"Nor is it shammy leather." "Covered with sealskin outside." "Nor is it covered with sealskin outside." "Just you take and let me have a look at it. I'll soon tell you if it's mine." "Before the purse is shown to any claimant he must satisfactorily describe it." "Very well; that's all about it. If it ain't mine, it ain't mine. You needn't be nasty." "I have no intention of being nasty." "Then don't be. Because a pore feller loses his purse he don't need to be trampled on. You can be pore but honest." With the utterance of this trite and, possibly, admirable observation the man strolled off, with his hands in his pockets. My clerical friend, who had lingered in the hall, endeavoured to take me by the button-hole. He addressed me in a confidential whisper. "Pardon me, sir, but circumstances over which I have no control have temporarily crippled my resources. Since, from motives which I understand, and which I honour, sir, you prefer to continue to be the custodian of my family property, might I with confidence ask you to oblige me with a small loan till I am able to place myself in communication with my daughter?" "You might not." "I fear that I am already late for my appointment. The only way to reach it in time will be to take a cab. May I, at least, ask you to enable me to pay the fare?" "You may not." He sighed. "I believe you said you had not breakfasted? Neither, sir, have I. You will hardly believe it, but it is a positive fact that I, a clergyman, a master of arts of my university, have not tasted food for more than four-and-twenty hours. If, sir, you will suffer me, a humble stranger, to join you at your morning meal----" "Good-day, sir." He sighed again. Then, putting his hand up to his mouth, he asked, in a sepulchral whisper: "Will you lend me sixpence?" "I won't--not one farthing." Then he went, shaking his head as he passed down the steps, as if the burden of this world pressed on him more weightily than ever. He was still descending the steps when a cab dashed up, from the interior of which an elderly gentleman flourished an umbrella. II. "Hi! Is this 25, Bangley Gardens, where they advertise that a purse was found?" I admitted that it was. "Was it found in Regent Street on Wednesday afternoon--silver monogram 'E. L. T.'--containing between nine and ten pounds in silver and gold?" I said that it was not. "Sorry to have troubled you. Throgmorton Street, driver. Push along." I was closing the door when I was hailed by a woman, who remained standing at the foot of the steps. She was a young woman, evidently of the artisan class. She wore an air of depression, and carried a baby in her arms. "Was the purse which was found mine, sir?" "What was yours like?"