hundred and seventy, so I contented myself with taking his measure. Poor, misshapen little man! His skin an unhealthy color, body gnarled and twisted out of all decency, contracted chest, shoulders bent prodigiously from long hours of toil, 
Frying-pan Alley.
and head hanging heavily forward and out of place! A "'earty man," 'e was!
"How tall are you?"
"Five foot two," he answered proudly; "an' the chaps at the shop . . ."
"Let me see that shop," I said.
The shop was idle just then, but I still desired to see it. Passing Leman Street, we cut off to the left into Spitalfields, and dived into Frying-pan Alley. A spawn of children cluttered the slimy pavement, for all the world like tadpoles just turned frogs on the bottom of a dry pond. In a narrow doorway, so narrow that perforce we stepped over her,
