I now found out the use of the great can of milk which Sambo had brought from the abbey field. In every window stood a little brown jug, which the blackamoor proceeded to fill from the vessel he carried. The good fellow seemed to enjoy his work of charity, to judge by the grins and nods he bestowed on the old folks. Most thanked him heartily, but one old woman turned away her head, and when my aunt rather mischievously asked her if she did not want any milk, she muttered that it turned her against it to see that heathen pour it out. "Never mind her," said my uncle to Sambo, who looked greatly affronted, as well he might. "She is a poor childish creature you know," and, taking the can from the black man's hand, he filled the jug himself, and passed on smiling, while Sambo muttered that Massa was a heap too good. The last cottage was the neatest in the row, and a hale-looking old man was training a honeysuckle round the door. I wondered why he was there, till I looked in at the window and espied a wasted old woman propped up in the bed, looking more like death than life. My uncle stopped and entered into conversation with the old man, while we young ones made acquaintance with a white cat and two kittens which were basking in the sun. "With all my heart—with all my heart!" we heard the old man say, presently. "There is plenty of room up stairs and the little lass can wait on Mary at odd times. Poor soul, poor soul! But will not your worship come in and have a word with my poor dame? It does her so much good. And meantime the young ladies can look at the garden and the birds." We went round to the back of the house accordingly, where we found a neat little garden-plot in which was a tame sea-gull running about in company with a hedge-pig, a lame goose, and a queer little dog, which always seemed to go on three legs. We amused ourselves with the animals, which came to us at once, as if quite used to being noticed, till my uncle called us. On the way home, he told my aunt that he had arranged with the old man to let Cicely Higgins's mother live in the upper room of his cottage for the present. It seems each of the old people were entitled to an attendant, but John being a hale man for his great age, did not avail himself of the privilege, but cared for his wife himself. My uncle had some control over these houses by virtue of his relationship to the founder, I believe, and, therefore, could put in whom he pleased. There were many such small charitable foundations about London in those days, but they were mostly swept away in the great storm which destroyed all the religious houses in the land. It was a storm which cleared the air, no doubt, but it left some sad wrecks behind it, as is the way of tempests. When we reached home we had supper, at which two or three of my uncle's friends joined us—elderly, sober men like himself. We young ones went to bed directly after, and thus ended my first day of London. [Illustration] CHAPTER III.