The children were collected and scrubbed till their faces shone with friction and yellow soap, and then the little procession started to the workhouse. Mr. Wells, returned from work, announced his intention of giving his arm up the hill to Mrs. Blake, and the young man of the second floor volunteered his services to help carry "H'albert," who was heavy and sleepy, and his contribution of a packet of peppermints cheered the journey greatly. When the cruel gates of the House closed on the weeping children the two men walked home silently. Once Wells swore quietly but forcibly under his breath. "You're right, mate," said the young man. "This job has put me off my tea. I'll just turn into the 'King of Bohemia,' and drink till I forget them children's sobs." _Note._--I understand that under a separation order the police have authority to search for the husband without forcing the family into the House. I called at the police-station to inquire why this was not done, and was informed that the woman's destitution was so great that they feared the children might die of starvation before the man was brought to book. THE SUICIDE In she plunged boldly, No matter how coldly The rough river ran; Over the brink of it-- Picture it--think of it, Dissolute man. She lay in bed, in the long, clean Sick Ward--a fine-grown and well-favoured young woman with masses of black hair tossed over the whiteness of the ratepayers' sheets. Such a sight is rare in a workhouse infirmary, where one needs the infinite compassion of Christian charity or the hardness of habit to bear the pitiful sights of disease and imbecility. "She looks as if she ought not to be here?" I observed interrogatively to the nurse. "Attempted suicide. Brought last night by the police, wrapped in a blanket and plastered in mud from head to foot. Magnificent hair?--yes, and a magnificent job I had washing of it, and my corridor and bathroom like a ploughed field. Usual thing--might have killed her?--oh, no; these bad girls take a deal of killing." I sat down beside the bed, and heard the usual story--too common to excite either interest or compassion in an official mind. She had been a nursemaid, but had left service for the bar; and there one of the gentlemen customers had been very kind to her and had walked out with her on Sundays and taken her to restaurants and the theatre. Then followed the usual promise of marriage and the long delay, till her work had become impossible, "and the governor had spoken his mind and given her the sack."