The bobbies couldn't find us there." "No fear," he answered.

"There's the park guardians, and they'd run you in for six months." Times have changed, alas! When I was a youngster I used to read of homeless boys sleeping in doorways.

Already the thing has become a tradition.

As a stock situation it will doubtless linger in literature for a century to come, but as a cold fact it has ceased to be.

Here are the doorways, and here are the boys, but happy conjunctions are no longer effected.