* * * * * THEORY AND PRACTICE. _Brief Tragi-Comedy for the Times._ ACT I.--_A West End Club Smoking Room. Philosophic Philanthropists discovered disposing of question of the hour._ _First Philosophic Philanthropist (putting down Times)._ Well, I'm sure nothing could be more satisfactory, and it's all clearly set down here. Not a single soul in the Metropolis need pass the night in the streets. Here's the whole thing set out, chapter and verse. It seems the Police take the matter in hand, and there's a decent night's lodging provided for every single tramp who's in want of it. _Second Philosophic Philanthropist._ Just so. Of course one knows there's no end of exaggerated clap-trap talked about the matter. The thing's as simple as can be. They're drafted off to the Casual Wards, where there is clean, wholesome, and comparatively comfortable accommodation; and the system works perfectly, and is capitally organised. _First Philosophic Philanthropist (warmly)._ Capitally! [_Are left mutually congratulating each other on the ample provision made by the Authorities for the nightly shelter of the homeless Metropolitan poor as the scene closes in._ ACT II.--_Exterior of a Casual Ward. Time_ 9 P.M. _Thirty Shivering Creatures in charge of Practical Policeman, discovered waiting outside in the wind and rain._ _First Shivering Creature._ I say, Bobby, d'you think we shall git in 'ere? I'm almost froze, and am that drippin' there ain't a bloomin' dry rag upon me. _Practical Policeman (who has already been to three other Casual Wards with his "charges" but has found them all full)._ You wait a minute; perhaps we shall have luck here. (_The Master appears._) Well, Mister Master, have you got any room? _Master._ No; full as we can hold. (_Surveying the shivering crowd._) How many are you? Twenty or thirty! Hum--well, I might squeeze in five. Pick 'em out. [First Shivering Creature _and four others are passed into a damp close, stone-paved room, crowded with human beings, some of which are lying on a few wooden benches, the majority being huddled in heaps upon the floor_. _First Shivering Creature._ Wot! Call this a night's lodging? Why, quod's a pallis to it! [_Sinks down in a corner, and huddles himself to sleep with the rest._ _Master (concluding his address to Policeman)._ Well, good-night to you. Your best game would be Wapping, I should say--not, though, that I think they'll be able to help you. [_Shuts door on Policeman and his "charges," who try Wapping, from which place, being "full," they are directed in turns to several other Wards in different parts of the Metropolis, but after trudging about for hours and finding no room anywhere, they eventually draw up outside a Casual Ward in the Bermondsey district at_ 1 A.M.