But the "parish" looked suspiciously at and walked warily round the box of explosives wherewith Jonathan had the means of "blowing up the blooming show." This was carefully deposited in a cistern of water before it was carried off. But the fiery dragon at the dust-destructor refused the "Milkmaid" milk-tins, and, alone in their glory, sole representatives of Jonathan's power, they remained in Jonathan's room, for even the dust-collector fought shy of them. Like pyramids they stood as silent witnesses of the past. How they missed Jonathan! Their lustre was tarnished; there was no friendly hand to polish them now; neither was there any subtle brain to devise new styles of architecture for them. Well had it been for the "Milkmaids" if they had suffered the fiery fate of their many companions, for a far worse fate awaited them; for when the nights were dark, and fogs deadened sound, Jonathan's old landlady would steal craftily with an apron full of "Milkmaids," and drop one in the gutter, throw others over the garden-walls, dispose of some on pieces of unoccupied ground, till all were gone. The painter and paperhanger were afterwards required in Jonathan's room. CHAPTER XIV PEOPLE WHO HAVE "COME DOWN" London's abyss contains a very mixed population. Naturally the "born poor" predominate, of whom the larger portion are helpless and hopeless, for environment and temperament are against them. Amongst these, but not of these, exists a strange medley of people who have "come down" in life. Drunkenness, fast living, gambling, and general rascality have hurried many educated men into the abyss; and such fellows descend to depths of wickedness and uncleanliness that the gross and ignorant poor cannot emulate, for nothing I have met in life is quite so disgusting and appalling as the demoralized educated men living in Inferno. Misfortune, sorrow, ill-health, loss of friends, position or money, and ill-advised speculations, are often prime causes of "descent," producing pitiful lives and strange characters; while others--sometimes women, sometimes men--have been cursed by very small annuities, not sufficient for living purposes, but quite sufficient to prevent them attempting any honest labour. Often these are ashamed to work, but by no means ashamed to beg. Clinging to the rags of their gentility, they exhibit open contempt for the ignorant poor, who treat them with awesome respect, because "they have come down in life." The postman brings them numerous letters--replies to their systematic begging appeals--and not before a detective calls to make inquiries do the poor question the _bona fides_ of, or lose their respect for, "the poor lady upstairs."