About this time (1862) the matron informed me that on the previous day a very aged woman had been admitted, and that she had sent her to the infirm ward across the yard. On looking at the order I found it was stated that she was 104. I went to see her. She was undeniably of great age, but she still retained her faculties and conversed with me for some time. She told me that she had lived in Chancery Lane between fifty and sixty years, and was forty-five years old when she went there to live. She also told me that she went down the Lane to see Nelson's funeral procession go by, that her children and her grandchildren were dead, and that she had been looked after lately by her great grandchildren, who had grown tired of waiting on her, and that was why she had come into the House. Her eyes were blue and complexion fair. She did not live long after her admission, the change from her own airy room to the close and at times fetid atmosphere of this overcrowded ward was too much for her aged frame. She passed away quietly, and I remember filling up a death certificate for 105 years. One day, I was informed that a very distressing case had been passed from Canterbury. It was a young woman about twenty-four. She had one child, and was about to be confined again. It would appear that she had married a coach-builder, who was born in St. Paul's, Covent Garden. She told me that he was a very good, quiet man, when sober, and had been very kind and good to her, but that when he took anything to drink he became as one insane, and in one of his drunken fits he had knocked a man down and killed him; that he had been tried and found guilty of murder, and was then lying under sentence of death. I also learned that the Guardians of Canterbury had passed her on to us, away from all her friends. The poor creature was simply broken-hearted. She had a very bad confinement, and remained long sick and ill. When she got better she made an application to the Strand Board for outdoor relief. She was told to come before the Board at the next meeting in Bow Street. It was unfortunately a very wet night, and being thinly clad, she got wet through, and sat in her wet clothes two hours. She also got wet on her return journey. That night she was seized with inflammation of the lungs, and remained for many weeks in the greatest jeopardy. Ultimately, she got better, when I sent her to a Convalescent Home in Hertfordshire. She was so patient and grateful that I wrote an account of her sad story, which was published in _The Morning Star_. It evoked donations amounting to £25. After buying her some additional clothing, I paid her journey for self and child to Canterbury (the baby had died), handing her as she went away some £20. The Board, at my request, allowed her outdoor relief for a twelvemonth. Some years after, I happened to be in Canterbury, when I found her out. She had been in the same situation some seven years. She had supported herself and child, and had no