grateful villain, 'what's the use of this to me? You might as well give me a pair of iron spectacles'—'Very good,' says our overseer, taking 'em away again, 'you won't get any thing else here.'—'Then I'll die in the streets!' says the vagrant.—'Oh no, you won't,' says our overseer.
"Ha! ha!—that was very good!—so like Mr. Grannet, wasn't it?" interposed the matron. "Well, Mr. Bumble?"
"Well, ma'am," rejoined the beadle, "he went away and did die in the streets. There's a obstinate pauper for you!"
"It beats any thing I could have believed," observed the matron emphatically. "But don't you think out-of-door relief a very bad thing any way, Mr. Bumble? You're a gentleman of experience, and ought to know. Come."
"Mrs. Corney," said the beadle, smiling as men smile who are conscious of superior information, "out-of-door relief, properly managed,—properly managed, ma'am,—is the porochial safeguard. The great principle of out-of-door relief is to give the paupers ex-