Wood in their favour. ‘You are really not helping matters, my friend. 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’ve plenty of pals,” he said, “who, when they’ve been doing Paris on the Q. " "May be not," replied the old sailor, drily; "but you'll find it too stiff for you tonight, anyhow. You do not need my compliments.
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