Produced by Joel Erickson, Tom Harris, Dave Morgan, Mary Meehan and
the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.
Alone in London
By Hesba Stretton
Author of "Jessica's First Prayer," "Little Meg's Children," etc.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER
I. NOT ALONE
II. WAIFS AND STRAYS
III. A LITTLE PEACEMAKER
IV. OLD OLIVER'S MASTER
V. FORSAKEN AGAIN
VI. THE GRASSHOPPER A BURDEN
VII. THE PRINCE OF LIFE
VIII. NO PIPE FOR OLD OLIVER
IX. A NEW BROOM AND A CROSSING
X. HIGHLY RESPECTABLE
XI. AMONG THIEVES
XII. TONY'S WELCOME
XIII. NEW BOOTS
XIV. IN HOSPITAL
XV. TONY'S FUTURE PROSPECTS
XVI. A BUD FADING
XVII. A VERY DARK SHADOW
XVIII. NO ROOM FOR DOLLY
XIX. THE GOLDEN CITY
XX. A FRESH DAY DAWNS
XXI. POLLY
CHAPTER I.
NOT ALONE.
It had been a close and sultry day—one of the hottest of thedog-days—even out in the open country, where the dusky green leaves hadnever stirred upon their stems since the sunrise, and where the birds hadfound themselves too languid for any songs beyond a faint chirp now andthen. All day long the sun had shone down steadily upon the streets ofLondon, with a fierce glare and glowing heat, until the barefootedchildren had felt the dusty pavement burn under their tread almost aspainfully as the icy pavement had frozen their naked feet in the winter.In the parks, and in every open space, especially about the cool splashof the fountains at Charing Cross, the people, who had escaped from thecrowded and unventilated back streets, basked in the sunshine, or soughtevery corner where a shadow could be found. But in the alleys and slumsthe air was heavy with heat and dust, and thick vapours floated up anddown, charged with sickening smells from the refuse of fish andvegetables decaying in the gutters. Overhead the small, straight strip ofsky was almost white, and the light, as it fell, seemed to quiver withthe burden of its own burning heat.
Out of one of the smaller thoroughfares lying between Holborn and theStrand, there opens a narrow alley, not more than six or seven feetacross, with high buildings on each side. In the most part the groundfloors consist of small shops; for the alley is not a blind one, butleads from the thoroughfare to another street, and forms, indeed, a shortcut to it, pretty often used. These shops are not of any size orimportance—a greengrocer's, with a somewhat scanty choice of vegetablesand fruit, a broker's, displaying queer odds and ends of household goods,two or three others, and at the end farthest from the chief thoroughfare,but nearest to the quiet and respectable street beyond, a verymodest-looking little shop-window, containing a few newspapers, somerather yellow packets of stationery, and two or three books of ballads.Above the door was painted, in very small, dingy letters, the words,"James Oliver, News Agent."
The shop was even smaller, in proportion, than its window. After twocustomers had e