The canadian magazine of politics, science, art and literature, November 1910-April 1911 . ad realised with a look thecomplement of eloquence. I had thought that he would go backand rejom his young companion in thecorner, but now I seemed to see him,with the greed that belittles human-ity, hurrying away as if he feared theother would learn of his good I walked slowly after him. I hearda singularly low yet penetratingwhistle, and a moment later theyounger urchin from the corner scur-ried past. I was too far behind tohear anything that was said as theone overtook the other, but I saw
The canadian magazine of politics, science, art and literature, November 1910-April 1911 . ad realised with a look thecomplement of eloquence. I had thought that he would go backand rejom his young companion in thecorner, but now I seemed to see him,with the greed that belittles human-ity, hurrying away as if he feared theother would learn of his good I walked slowly after him. I hearda singularly low yet penetratingwhistle, and a moment later theyounger urchin from the corner scur-ried past. I was too far behind tohear anything that was said as theone overtook the other, but I saw thearm of the larger almost envelop thesmallers puny form, and then thetwo, half running, half dancing, has-tened away into the gathering gloom. I followed quickly. The pair turn-ed to the right, went over the bridge,up the incline, and down along Highstreet, where for the moment I lostsight of them in that kaleidoscopicmovement of submerged scene interested me, so I movedalong, and presently caught a lastglimpse of the two mediums of mybig idea turning, still with the arm. of one enfolding the other, into whatlooked like a hole in the wall; andas I hurried to the spot and stoodthere, at the entrance, I received myfirst impression of one of the rat-holes of Edinburgh. The entrance was a little higherand not much wader than an ordin-ary doorway, but its depths were ex-tensive and mysterious and cavern-ous. The time was not late, so Iventured a closer acquaintance, andhad it not been for the sea of child- ren that came at me like a swarmof bees I might have made at leasta fair survey of the coastline. Thesurging mass shouted almost as onemouth, Poor oot! Poor oot!which was intended as a mild intima-tion for me to pour out of my abun-dance upon their unoffending had started as one Avho acts thephilanthropist in a humble way, andthus far I had had some of the joysand exaltations of giving, withouthaving given much. Here, however,
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, booksubjectcanadia, bookyear1893
