Joey had a tragedy attached to him, which clouded a portion of his days. He was guilty of telling a “boomer” to his parents. He said that he had been moved out of the infant school into the boys’ school when he hadn’t. One day his mother accompanied him to the school gate because it was raining, and she was protecting him with the family umbrella. Then the horrid truth was discovered, as the entrance for boys is in a different street to that for infants. Joey urgently declared that he had only been “kidding” his parents, and that when they were so wildly delighted and took his news so seriously he had not had the courage to tell them it was “kidding.” The net result was gloom and disgrace, which floated round Joey’s miserable head for many days. In the middle of this awful time he _was_ moved, and the strained atmosphere was consequently relieved. He distinguished himself in his new class, however, by his answer to a question his teacher put to him as to the origin of Christmas Day. “You get a bigger bit of meat on yer plate than ever you seen before,” he replied, and after a pause he added, “and w’en ’E dies you gets a bun.” The teacher had called round to complain of this way of looking at things, and Joey was in deep disgrace again. He was a nice, chubby thing, with earnest ways and some imagination. His “boomer” preyed on him, and made him thin and anxious till the climax was over. The second offence worried him not at all. He was the pride and delight of two very simple and devoted parents. His two little sisters, both younger than himself, were extremely attached to him. Benny was twelve and very, very serious. He was the boy who, without telling a soul of his plan, offered himself to the milkman as a boy who would leave milk on doorsteps. He earned 2s. 6d. a week for the job, and faithfully performed the duties for some weeks, till a man who kept a vegetable shop offered him the same money for hours which suited him better, and he changed his trade. He was a very small boy for his age, and had a grave, thin face with inflamed eyes. An overcoat, presented because the visitor could not bear to think of his doing his round in the rain and sitting all day at school afterwards in his wet clothes gave him the keenest flash of pleasure he had ever felt. He turned scarlet and then went white. He had a resolute mouth and a quiet voice and no constitution.