When I have traversed the streets a houseless wanderer, driven with curses from every door where I have solicited alms, and with blows from every gateway where I have sought shelter,—when I have crept into some deserted building, and stretched my wearied limbs upon a bulk, in the vain hope of repose,—or, worse than all, when, frenzied with want, I have yielded to horrible temptation, and earned a meal in the only way I could earn one,—when I have felt, at times like these, my heart sink within me, I have drank of this drink, and have at once forgotten my cares, my poverty, my guilt. I hate myself!” She collapsed to the floor, sobbing. "That's well," replied Wild, entering the house, and fastening the door. "I will administer it. Wood fancied he recognised. Wasting no time, he crossed straight to the shutters and opened them. My poor brain is so mixed, dear, I hardly know what I am saying. "There's an old proverb," continued Wood, rising and walking towards the fire, "which says,—'Put another man's child in your bosom, and he'll creep out at your elbow.
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