fellow that gets out of work; of course if he can't get it he can't pay; she can't get blood out of a stone; she couldn't turn them out in the street. 'I've got sons of my own, Mr. Careless, I've got sons of my own.'…She is sure she always does her best to make her boarders comfortable, and if they want anything they've only got to ask for it. The kettle is always on the stove if you want a cup of tea, and if you come home late at night and want a bit of supper you've only got to go to the safe (which of us would dare?) She never locks it, she never did.…And then she begins about her wonderful kids, and it goes on hour after hour. Lord! it's enough to drive a man mad.
We were recommended to this place on the day of our arrival by a young dealer in the furniture line, whose name was Moses―and he looked like it, but we didn't think of that at the time. He had Mrs. Jones's card in his window, and he left the shop in charge of his missus and came round with us at once. He assured us that we couldn't do better than stay with her. He said she was a most respectable lady, and all her boarders were decent young fellows―gentlemen; she kept everything scrupulously clean, and kept the best table in town, and she'd do for us (washing included) for eighteen shillings per week; she generally took the first week in advance. We asked him to have a beer―for the want of somebody else to ask―and after that he said that Mrs. Jones was a kind, motherly body, and understood young fellows; and that we'd be even more comfortable than
