. The book of months . life!:;-. ■- V \v FEBRUARY for all the starving, homeless creatures of thestreet. The bloke does not pray—he toldme so—but if he did, he would say with Brown-ing, Gtods in His Heaven; alls right with the world. Exit the bloke. P. S.—No, not exit just then. Yesterdayonly, I was coming round the corner from Da-vies Street, and caught sight of the bloke dancing excitedly in mid-street with his sheafof papers, shouting the verdict of the Tun-bridge murder. Next moment he had beenknocked down by an omnibus, and the wheelshad gone over him. With many others I ranout into the r
. The book of months . life!:;-. ■- V \v FEBRUARY for all the starving, homeless creatures of thestreet. The bloke does not pray—he toldme so—but if he did, he would say with Brown-ing, Gtods in His Heaven; alls right with the world. Exit the bloke. P. S.—No, not exit just then. Yesterdayonly, I was coming round the corner from Da-vies Street, and caught sight of the bloke dancing excitedly in mid-street with his sheafof papers, shouting the verdict of the Tun-bridge murder. Next moment he had beenknocked down by an omnibus, and the wheelshad gone over him. With many others I ranout into the roadway, and it so happened I wasthere first, and I picked the bloke up andcarried him to the pavement. His head bentinward from my elbow to my chest, and twowet pennies fell into the crook of my arm fromhis mouth. His sheaf of papers had fallen from37 e^\i
Size: 1051px × 2376px
Photo credit: © Reading Room 2020 / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No
Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, bookidcu3192401358, bookyear1903
