So the heroism of the slums is of the passive more than the active kind, of the "to be and to suffer" sort rather than of the "to do and dare." And it must needs be so, for opportunities of developing and exhibiting the courage that needs promptitude, dash, and daring have very largely been denied the people who live in our narrow streets. But their whole lives, circumstances, and environments have been such that patience under suffering, fortitude in poverty, and perseverance to the end could not fail to be developed. In these qualities, despite all their vices and coarseness, poor people, and especially poor women, set a splendid example to the more favoured portions of the community. CHAPTER XI A PENNYWORTH OF COAL It was winter-time, and the cold damp fog had fallen like a heavy cloud on East London. The pavements were grimy and greasy; travelling, either on foot or by conveyance, was slow and dangerous. The voices of children were not heard in the streets, but ever and again the hoarse voice of some bewildered driver was heard asking his way, or expostulating with his horse. Occasionally a tell-tale cough came from some foot-passenger of whose proximity I had been unaware, but who, like myself, was slowly groping his way to a desired haven. I found my objective at last, and I entered a queer room possessing two doors--one the ordinary street door; the other, of which the upper part was glass, opened into an outhouse at a right angle with the house door. This annexe had once been a greengrocer's shop, and fronted a side-street; now it was used as a coal and coke depot, and to it resorted the poor for their winter's supply of coal and coke.