6/15 A lonely toiler, his lot is increasingly hard, and almost worthless. He often comes in to us to do little jobs--mend a table leg, re-seat a chair, replace a tile. Then he says, "There's summat I must tell you----" So he retails the gossip of the district, for it is against his conscience, as he frankly avows, to conceal what he knows. And Heaven knows, there is gossip enough in our quarter!--a complete network, above and below, of quarrels, intrigues and deceptions, woven around man, woman and the public in general. One says, "It _can't_ be true!" and then thinks about something else. |