as the French Huguenot Chapel. Here also John Wesley had thundered forth his message from the wooden pulpit, and now it is hired on lease,' as a Jewish synagogue. On the winter afternoon on which I had strolled into it out of a mild curiosity to see its relics it had a dark and dreary aspect. Its only occupant was a venerable bearded gentleman who might have sat for a portrait of his Father Abraham. He looked up for a moment to cast a hawk-like eye upon the intruder, but seeing that I was only occupied with the mural tablets erected by pious Huguenots and Wesleyans he bent again over the Torah and continued to mumble out the law. Presently from under the seat of a high wooden pew in which I had established myself to rest for a few moments, I became aware of a gentle shuffling sound which was followed by a cautious tug at my skirts. Looking down in nervous expectation of what should follow, I saw a small head of light yellow curls emerge, and a minute and grimy hand confidently clutched my skirt. A dirty little face, adorned with a wide grin and a pair of twinkling blue eyes, was raised to mine for a moment, while a tiny finger was pointed at the venerable figure bent over the desk. Then from somewhere near my feet was emitted a sound such as all boys and a few girls of every age and nationality can produce with the aid of two fingers to their lips. In this case it was certainly subdued, but Abraham raised his nose for a moment from his book and scowled terribly in my direction.

Meantime a slight scuffle and the whisk of a ridiculous skirt, and the child, imp, or whatever it was, had reached the open doorway, and there was nothing to be seen but a pair of eyes dancing with mischief peering round the doorpost. Happily for me, since I felt myself left in an equivocal position, Abraham at that moment caught sight of the vanishing child in the doorway, and I left the building with what haste I could, and I trust with an unblemished character. It was a few days later that I saw Matty for the second time. Her friend the doll-parson' was strolling with me down Wentworth Street, when at a crowded corner we became aware of some obstruction to the traffic. A drayman with many sanguinary ejaculations had been forced to draw his powerful horses up short upon their haunches whilst in the middle of the roadway, under their very noses, was Matty-skipping. Indifferent alike to the epithets heaped upon her by the justly indignant drayman, and to the fact that those trampling iron hoofs were within a perilous distance of her bare toes, the child danced backwards and forwards over her rope with all the grace and dexterity which characterised her every movement. Up a by street a barrel-organ was playing a popular waltz tune, and she skipped in time to the music, executing all sorts of intricate figures the while, with extraordinary precision. Suddenly she caught sight of us, and flinging down her bit of rope to be trampled on by the horses, she flew across the street, and clasping her friend's hand with both her own

small ones she peered at me behind his back, jigging meantime up and down on her toes after the manner of young children. 'Yer the lady I 'ad larks with in the synagogue,' she announced with the wide grin which was already familiar to me. I meekly acquiesced, and my acceptance of the position seemed to create a bond of nefarious fellowship between Matty and myself which for its brief duration was inexplicably flattering.

'But you should see her dance,' said the 'doll-parson' to me later, when he had been explaining the difficulties over Matty's moral and mental education. He went on to tell me that he had already interested a theatrical friend in her. But meantime she must go through the mill, poor little Matty,' he added, and the mother's the difficulty. '

6

Yenci did not have to wait so very long for the occasion of 'being even' with her rival. After the unlucky incident of the sixpence, a determined effort was made to reclaim Matty more efficiently. There was even some talk of getting her into a home for Waifs and Strays in the country, but the wiser amongst those interested in her welfare. decided that the little girl could be best controlled through her affections. And there was no doubt that she clung with a curious but undeniable attachment to her comfortless home and to the foolish slovenly mother who varied in her maternal attitude between hysterical demonstrations of tenderness and apathetic indifference.

This attachment of Matty's was regarded as a sign that the mother, according to her lights, was not after all such a bad one. Mrs. Power, as she chose to be called, never ceased to thank heaven for having 'remembered' the four other children who had been born to her and thus restricted her responsibilities; but she was never unkind to the child and fed her out of her wages and the money supplied to her without stint if also without discretion or management. It was at all events agreed-and here the 'doll-parson' was probably listened tothat without responsibilities at all, Mrs. Power would be a less edifying member of society. Meantime Matty conceived the deepest distrust of those kind and active ladies who had already deprived her of her mother's society for the greater part of the day, and who now talked in their smooth gentle voices about the country. She did not know definitely what the country' might mean-her irregular attendance at classes had never earned her the right to spend the day there-but it haunted her childish dreams as a pitiless inexorable waste devoid of houses or barrel-organs, or Yencis, or even mothers. So she was left at home, but Mrs. Power was seriously talked to, and all the philanthropic and political batteries of Spitalfields were let loose upon the couple. As a consequence Matty, for a brief space, came to the Provided schools with amazing regularity, and her mother was even induced to take her to church on two consecutive Sundays.

In these days, when the condition of our infant population has become very properly one of the most important of economic questions

in England, and legislation is busy with the protection of the children of the poor, it is not to be supposed that their interests will escape the contamination of party feeling. In the opening months of this year of grace 1908, the needs of the underfed and necessitous schoolchildren and the desirability of the long-suffering ratepayer ministering to these needs without the investigation demanded by voluntary contributors, has become a popular warcry of the Progressive Socialists. Yenci's father owned a small newspaper shop and was something of a politician, so Yenci heard a good deal of the sufferings of the Gentile children, and of the activity of the Socialists on their behalf, as opposed to the voluntary fund inaugurated by the County Council. Therefore one Friday afternoon, when she was doing her mother's shopping in Middlesex Street, and caught sight of Matty dodging between the avenues of barrows, diving under stalls, and pausing in her swallow-like flight to gaze lovingly at a fine array of penny toys, she deliberately approached her. One of Yenci's arms was thrust through a ring of bread, and under the other she clasped a piece of cheese in a newspaper. Holding them both out invitingly to Matty, she said in her slow difficult English, Have a bite, you ne-cess-i-tous child.' The little Jewess had got her long word quite correctly, and it impressed Matty, who had certainly never heard it before, as quite the worst insult which had ever been addressed to her. Yenci had fled and · was lost in the crowd before she had recovered herself sufficiently to retaliate. So she went home and thought about it, and decided that she hated Jews and was very glad she had not allowed Yenci to be Florence's godmother; but, after the fashion of children, a certain shame held her from asking an explanation of the word of any older person.

It was on Monday morning, just as school was over, that a strange gentleman appeared in Matty's classroom. The children were just forming up into a double line to march out, and the visitor swept the little ranks with an eager and critical eye. Almost instantly he singled out Matty's drooping forlorn little figure, pale grubby face, and untidy head of hair. Who, indeed, who saw Matty in school could associate her with the child, instinct with life and gaiety, dancing joyously in the midst of a busy thoroughfare, dodging through the street solitary or with an army of adventurous spirits behind her, or conducting a religious ceremony upon the steps of the church? 'That child should be on the list,' he said severely; and Matty, filled with nameless apprehension, shivered and looked smaller than ever. Teacher appeared doubtful. 'Our Care Committee knows all about her,' she replied suavely; 'any member of it will tell you the little girl is small for her age, but she is not underfed.' But the visitor was not satisfied. If that child is not necessitous,' he said, 'I never saw one that was.' The children had begun to move now, and Matty was near enough to hear the

dreaded word. Her small frame shook with a very access of rage, and, her manners being still sadly primitive, she put out a pink tongue at the offender as she passed him. But this was an act of insubordination which could not be passed over, for the sake of teacher's pride, and a firm hand was laid on the skinny little shoulder and Matty was withdrawn from the ranks while her companions marched on to the open door and liberty. 'What did you have for breakfast, little girl? ' inquired the stranger, seizing his opportunity; and Matty, whose mother had overslept herself and who had consequently come to school on nothing better than a crust filched from the cupboard, answered unhesitatingly, ''Ot cross buns and treacle,' that being the most sumptuous fare which rose at the moment before her mental vision. Teacher smiled grimly, and Matty, with a determined wriggle, freed herself from the detaining hand and was gone like a streak of lightning. Outside the school gates she ran straight into her friend the doll-parson.' He was a kind, comforting sort of person who always seemed to be on hand when the child wanted him, and she clung round his knees, pouring out a torrent of inarticulate indignation in which 'black gentleman,' entreaties not to be taken away, and the portentous word 'cessitous' alone reached him. As it happened, he was an active member of the Care Committee, and was now on his way to interview the representative of the Underfed Children's SubCommittee of the London Education Committee, and Matty found a ready comforter.

'Necessitous? Why, of course you're not. Splendid feed this morning, hadn't you?'''Ot cross buns and treacle,' murmured a quavering little voice into his neck, whilst a damp face was pressed against his well-starched collar. Of course, of course,' said her protector soothingly, and when I've talked to that black gentleman, we'll go and have some dinner together.'

6

So the only result of political intervention in this instance was that Matty was thoroughly pauperised for that day, and given a dinner which might have compensated for several omitted breakfasts. When it was over, a confession had to be made, for Matty was developing a sense of honour. It wasn't 'ot cross buns and treacle,' came in a hoarse whisper, whilst the doll-parson' was aware that two bright eyes were peering at him through some grubby little fingers; but I thought as the black gentleman 'd tike me away.' 'All right, Matty,' he responded, but I think next time we'll call it a crust '—and Matty turned very pink and giggled with some decent discomfiture. When she recounted her adventures to her mother in the evening, she met with rather scant sympathy.

6

'Well, if they're goin' to give you a free breakfast,' she queried fretfully, for Mrs. Power had been listening to some discussion amongst her neighbours,' why should I git up early? And now the parson's give yer dinner, and soon it'll be supper, and there'll be gold plate

VOL. LXIII-No. 373

EE

p'raps, and everythin' else, an' wot I say is, wot's the use of us pore mothers frettin' ourselves?'

There was undeniably some truth in Mrs. Power's self-exculpation, but when a lady on the Care Committee interviewed her next morning on the subject of Matty's breakfast, which they knew to be amply provided for, she wept into a corner of her apron and said the child was that dainty there was no pleasin' 'er, and she was never 'ungry of a mornin'-never.' Here also she was not far from the truth, for a delicate child who lives and sleeps with her mother in a room eight feet square, the window of which is kept hermetically sealed all the twenty-four hours round, is not likely to be ''ungry of a mornin'.'

6

'I don't think the woman is altogether to blame,' said the same lady in relating the incident to me a little later. The child is really unmanageable. I am afraid she will come to no good.' 'You see, she's a genius,' said I, ' and we know that geniuses cannot submit to ordinary limitations.' The lady looked at me in pained bewilderment. You have never worked amongst the poor, have you?' she asked tolerantly, and I was forced to admit that I had not. . . .

It being understood that I was interested in the dramatic efforts of children in the East-end, I received, towards the end of February, a very kind invitation to an entertainment at the Jewish Night School. The mild weather had given place temporarily to a biting north-east wind which swept clean the drab streets of Spitalfields, effectually banishing the children from their most familiar playground. Some forty or fifty of them had found a cheerful refuge between the bluewashed walls of the Night School, which is conducted by two Christian ladies for the benefit of children of less orthodox Jewish parents. Like Yenci, they came out of the strange foreign settlement which lies so near to the heart of London, and they were chattering an almost incomprehensible mixture of Yiddish and broken English as fast as their little tongues could wag. Matty and Yenci had apparently decided to let bygones be bygones-at all events, the latter had brought Matty, possibly as a peace offering, to the entertainment. This was to be a 'show-off' night. A Band of Hope address was to be given by a curate, who, an enthusiastic member of the Temperance Society, found himself confronted with the difficulty that it is impossible for Jewish children to be total abstainers, since the offices of their religion demand the occasional use of wine. However, the Band of Hope is always a convenient peg on which to hang an entertainment for the young, and on this occasion it was to have the merit of originality since the children themselves were to provide the performance. It was a cheerful room, and well warmed and lighted; the walls were hung with coloured prints from the Graphic, from the Yiddish illustrated papers, andwhich was remarkable in a Jewish night school-one large illuminated text: 'Christ Jesus came into the World to Save Sinners.' The question of conversion with its heavy responsibilities naturally does