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Updated: May 21, 2025
He had not quite made up his mind which of the tawdry, half-drunken creatures around him he would address, when a middle-aged man of respectable appearance, dressed in black, issued from one of the surrounding dens. "A city missionary," thought George Aspel, as he approached, and asked for direction to the abode of a man named Abel Bones.
George Aspel passed the front of the General Post-Office on his way to visit Tottie Bones, and, observing a considerable bustle going on there, he stopped to gaze, for George had an inquiring mind. Being fresh from the country, his progress through the streets of London, as may be well understood, was slow.
"Georgie," he whispered for he had reverted to the old original name of his wife, which, with his proper name of Blackadder, he had changed on coming to London "Georgie, I wish I might live for your sake and His, but it'll be better to go. We're on the same road at last, Georgie, and shall meet again." Aspel marked the change and marvelled. He could not understand it at all.
She stopped abruptly, flushed slightly, and hesitated a moment, then, advancing with the hearty air of an old playmate, she frankly held out her hand. This was enough for Aspel. He had been depressed before; he was in the depths of despair now.
"There's certainly fire somewhere, Pax; run, call the engines out," said Aspel, descending three steps at a time. Pax took the last six steps at a bound, and rushed along the street, overturning in his flight two boys bigger than himself, and a wheelbarrow. The owner of the cellars was absent and his door locked. Where was the key?
Turning from this point George Aspel observed that the box for letters closing, as we have said, half an hour later than that for books and papers was beginning to show symptoms of activity. At a quarter to six the long metal slit suddenly opened up like a gaping mouth, into which a harlequin could have leaped easily.
"You see, mother," he said that night, after Aspel had left the cottage and May had gone to her room, "it will never do to let her kill herself over the telegraph instrument. She's too delicately formed for such work. We must find something better suited to her." "Yes, Phil, we must find something better suited to her. Good-night," replied Mrs Maylands.
"Yes, sir, it's at the corner of the street, Miss Lillycrop says." "Which direction?" "That one, I think." "Here, I'm going the other way: will you post this letter for me?" "Yes, sir," said Tottie. "That's a good girl; here's a penny for you." "Please, sir, that's not a penny," said the child, holding out the half-crown which Aspel had put in her hand. "Never mind; keep it."
"No, sir," he said firmly; "I am willing to aid you in your difficulties, but I am not willing to become a mere shop-boy at least not while there is man's work to be had." Mr Blurt looked perplexed. "What are we to do?" he asked. "Hire a little boy," said Aspel.
A great cry of anxiety arose at this, but Mr Bright had anticipated it, and the first mate was ready to aid him. Leaping into the sea with a rope round his waist, Mr Bright caught Aspel as he struggled past. The mate's powerful hands held them both fast. Some of the crew lent a ready hand, and in a few seconds George Aspel was hauled on board.
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