The little pale-faced girl expressed herself with emphasis, coughing and gasping between each adjective. There was a great deal of fringe upon her forehead and a great deal of feather on her head, and some broken teeth within her mouth. She dug at her companion with a bony elbow, as they stood there, being supported in an upright attitude by means of other people’s knees and also by means of a rack provided for light articles only. "You clumsy tyke, you!" shrilled the girl, by way of concluding her address. "Hee-haw!" responded the youth, with satire. It was made evident by certain signs, such as the cheerfulness of his conversation and a sort of _négligé_ as to his fringe, that he had spent his evening amid congenial surroundings. ’"Old the kid yeself, then," he added. And his companion took the child. "What you done with them suckers?" she then demanded; upon which the young man brought forth bull’s-eyes from his trouser pocket. With one of these the little girl essayed to comfort Baby, holding the evil thing between his toothless gums. But Baby continued, as before, to moan and writhe.... "I fink that beetroot ain’t agreein’ wiv ’im," said the girl. The little rickety boy made no reply. He was busy, having a handful of cigarette-ends to strip and bind anew with paper. "Why don’t you stop ’is noise?" he at length demanded, applying his tongue to the completed "fag." "Call yeself a mother?" The fact as to Baby’s authorship I had, of course, suspected. I perceived, however, that our fellow-passengers did not mind. The girl did not allow the young man’s question to remain unanswered. "Never trouble," she said, "what I call myself. What do you call yeself? A man, I suppose. Funny sort of man, ain’t you? More like a ape. More like a crab. Fine ’usband for a person, ain’t you? ’Usband, eh?" An elderly man at my right hand removed his pipe and grinned. The gentleman opposite to him winked; and a woman in the corner giggled rustily. You might have supposed them to be tickled by a sense of the deeper irony which underlay this mother’s sarcasm. But, as a matter of fact, the reflections which moved them were not of this character. The elderly man at my right explained his sentiments publicly. "Puts me in mind," he said, "of my fust. ’E were jest sich a skinny one." And Rickets spoke again. "Why can’t you stop the beggar’s noise?" he demanded. "Worse nor a waggon-load o’ tomcats, that row is." "What," demanded the girl, "d’you expect me to do? Put a muzzle on ’im? Why don’t you take an’ stop ’im yeself? ’Andy enough wiv yere tongue, you are. S’pose you show us ’ow to do the business." "My way o’ stoppin’ ’im would be easy," said the boy, with a stupid grin. "I should lay a strap acrost ’is back."