My father remonstrated in vain-the passion had already taken too deep a hold; and one day he was suddenly summoned from his work with the startling information, that 'Mother Mullins'--(so the kind neighbour phrased it) was sitting on the step of a public house, in the suburbs, completely 'tosticated.' He rushed out, and found the tale too true. A bricklayer in the neighbourhood proposed the loan of his barrow, for the poor senseless creature could not walk a step. Placing her in the one-wheel-carriage, he made the best of his way home, amid the jeers of the multitude. Moorfields was then only partially covered with houses; and as he passed a deep hollow, on the side of which was placed a notice, intimating that "RUBBISH MAY BE SHOT HERE!" his eyes caught the words, and in the bitterness of his heart he exclaimed-- "I wou'dn't like to shoot her exactly; but I've a blessed mind to turn her out!" CHAPTER IV.--A Situation. "I say, Jim, what birds are we most like now?" "Why swallows, to be sure," In the vicinity of our alley were numerous horse-rides, and my chief delight was being entrusted with a horse, and galloping up and down the straw-littered avenue.--I was about twelve years of age, and what was termed a sharp lad, and I soon became a great favourite with the ostlers, who admired the aptness with which I acquired the language of the stables. There were many stock-brokers who put up at the ride; among others was Mr. Timmis--familiarly called long Jim Timmis. He was a bold, dashing, good-humoured, vulgar man, who was quite at home with the ostlers, generally conversing with them in their favourite lingo. I had frequent opportunities of shewing him civilities, handing him his whip, and holding his stirrup, etc. One day he came to the ride in a most amiable and condescending humour, and for the first time deigned to address me--"Whose kid are you?" demanded he. "Father's, sir," I replied. "Do you know your father, then?" "Yes, sir." "A wise child this;" and he winked at the ostler, who, of course, laughed incontinently. "I want a-lad," continued he; "what do you say--would you like to serve me?" "If I could get any thing by it." "D-me, if that a'int blunt." "Yes, sir; that's what I mean." "Mean! mean what?" "If I could get any blunt, sir." Hereupon he laughed outright, at what he considered my readiness, although I merely used the cant term for "money," to which I was most accustomed, from my education among the schoolmasters of the ride. "Here, take my card," said he; "and tell the old codger, your father, to bring you to my office to-morrow morning, at eleven."