Our "fagger," as a child of the night, was rarely seen by day. He was indeed quite a recluse, as he shrunk from the derision to which his unsightly appearance subjected him from the children and his ignorant neighbours. So they only saw him when he shuffled out at night, or trotted back early in the morning. He for months refused the Missionary admission to the room, and was angry when his landlord, the sweeper, insisted upon receiving the visits, and he used on these occasions to seat himself upon his stool in the corner with a sulky expression of face. After a time his confidence was obtained, and it was then discovered that the poor simple man was utterly ignorant of saving truth. He had entered upon life as a "City Arab," could not read, had never been into a place of worship, and had not even heard the name of the Saviour. Little did the sower think, as the seed of the kingdom fell so freely from his hand, that it was to find good ground in the heart of the poor "fagger." He became deeply interested in the readings from the Bible, and at the farewell visit he drew his stool nearer, and his eyes brightened as the sweeper and himself listened to St. John's narrative of the crucifixion. Nearly a year had passed after this visit when a group of eight or ten persons assembled in Oxford Circus. It was long after midnight, and bitterly cold. The Missionary who was passing, approached, and two policemen to whom he was known, informed him that the well-dressed man who lay upon the kerb, with a frightful gash upon the forehead, was in liquor, and had fallen against the lamp-post. As the man was stunned, if not seriously injured, the police were advised to take him to the hospital, and one of them left to get a stretcher for that purpose. By this time a number of depraved men and women had gathered round, some of whom uttered ribald jokes, one woman suggesting "that as the gent was dead, they had better search his pockets for money, with which to drink to his memory." "And if dead," exclaimed the Missionary in a voice so loud and solemn that the people were startled: "if dead, his eternal state is fixed; the day of mercy over; and there is a fearful meeting with the Judge of heaven and earth." For a few moments there was silence, when a man near the lamp said, "He knows nothing about it, as no one ever came back from the other world to tell us." Before a reply could be given, an odd-looking little man who had pressed into the circle, exclaimed, "He does know: he's got it in his Book. They nailed Jesus to the cross, they did; He got out of the grave, He did; He's alive a savin' us, He is; it's in the gent's Book, it is: he knows it;" and then the little "fagger," for it was he, trotted away, as if astonished at himself. "That poor man is right," said the Missionary, "The Lord Jesus is alive to save sinners." No more could be said, as the policeman arrived with the stretcher, and as they bore the injured man