But it is impossible to give an adequate idea of the curiously mixed contents of the stores. Cumbersome articles such as mail-carts, rocking-horses, Bath-chairs, and water-beds will be found adjacent to billiard balls, pipes, samples of inlaid ebony work and other "small" goods; whilst near at hand will be found piles upon piles of articles of dress of all sorts and conditions. It is not surprising that a number of assistants are kept constantly employed in receiving, listing, sorting, and selling these miscellaneous gifts, which are sent by a grateful public as a small donation to the good and beneficent work which has for so many years been carried on by means of the Homes. A. PALFREY HOLLINGDALE. [Illustration: CLASSIFYING THE MISCELLANEOUS GIFTS. (_A View at Stepney Causeway._)] HIS STRANGE REPENTANCE. AN ADDRESS TO YOUNG MEN. By the Venerable Archdeacon Madden. [Illustration: (_Photo: Elliott and Fry, Baker Street, W._) ARCHDEACON MADDEN.] It was close upon midnight. I was alone in my study, busy clearing off a pile of letters that had been waiting all day for a "leisure moment." In the midst of my work a vigorous ring of the door-bell resounded through the house, followed by such a peremptory _ran-tan_ at the knocker that I jumped to my feet and rushed to the door to see what was the matter. There I found two rough-looking men, who lost no time in stating their business. "We want your reverence," they said, "to come and see a poor young fellow who is dying; the doctor has given him up, and he is crying out for a minister to come and pray with him." I could not refuse such an appeal, and off I started with the men. They led me to a narrow street in my parish and into one of the most dingy houses in the street. After groping my way, by the aid of lighted matches, up a dark flight of stairs, I found the dying man in a dirty back bedroom. He could not have been more than thirty years of age. He was propped up in bed, and the grey look of death was upon his face. As I entered he turned eagerly to me, and, holding out his hand, said, "I'm dying, and I am not ready--_not ready_!" Just as I was about to speak he suddenly gasped out, "John, John! hand me those things on the table." John came forward and laid upon the bed a sporting paper, a pack of cards, a set of dice, a bottle of whisky, and some race lists.