only came to loaf on her when he was out of gaol; of the second son, who had feathered his nest in another city, and had no use for her any longer; of the next―poor delicate little Arvie―struggling manfully to help, and wearing his young life out at Grinder Bros. when he should be at school; of the five helpless younger children asleep in the next room: of her hard life―scrubbing floors from half-past five till eight, and then starting her day's work―washing!―of having to rear her children in the atmosphere of brothels, because she could not afford to move and pay a higher rent; and of the rent.
Arvie commenced to mutter in his sleep.
'Can't you get to sleep, Arvie?' she asked. 'Is your throat sore? Can I get anything for you?'
'I'd like to sleep,' he muttered, dreamily, 'but it won't seem more'n a moment before―before'
'Before what, Arvie?' she asked, quickly, fearing that he was becoming delirious.
'Before the alarm goes off!'
He was talking in his sleep.
She rose gently and put the alarm on two hours. 'He can rest now,' she whispered to herself.
Presently Arvie sat bolt upright, and said quickly, 'Mother! I thought the alarm went off!' Then, without waiting for an answer, he lay down as suddenly and slept.
The rain had cleared away, and a bright, starry dome was over sea and city, over slum and villa alike; but little of it could be seen from the hovel in Jones's Alley, save a glimpse of the Southern Cross and a few stars round it. It was what ladies call a 'lovely
