worn them for some years—and dip my pen
in the ink ready for instant service. My
deputy follows my example in every
particular; and, although he doesn't wear spectacles,
I often catch him wiping an imaginary pair
with all the industry in the world. Well,
before the parish clock has finished echoing
the sound of our little Dutchman against the
wall, a little weazen-faced, sharp-eyed, brisk
sort of woman almost rushes in, as though
afraid of being too late. She is always first
is this number two hundred and forty, and
has been for the last five years; never coming
in as other people do, but making a sort of
rush at us as though she hoped to find us off
our guard, which she never has done. She
used to make me rather nervous at first, and
one year I altered her number to nine
hundred and ninety-nine, which I fancied might
quiet her down a little; but it did not—I
think it made her rather worse; and I put her
back again to her old number. Since then
I've grown quite easy about her. She has a
threepenny card, and has two penny tickets
for her children. These she flings down on
our counter; my deputy calls the number.
though he need not, for I always keep my
book open at two hundred and forty: he
calls out threepence, and as I score that
amount against her name in my ledger, he
does the same in one of the squares on her
card, flings her money into our humble cashbox,
and returns her the card, and she makes
way for the next depositor. This operation
is repeated for generally about five hundred
entries each Monday evening, all of which we
usually contrive to get through by seven
o'clock.

Nearly all the names on my list are those
of women and children, and I generally find
that the sums thus paid in are the little
savings of the wife out of their humble
house-keeping account, with frequently
allowances from the father to one or two of his
children. By this means, whether the amounts
be rescued from the beer-shop, or from
more legitimate outlay, the totals at the end
of the year prove most acceptable to the poor
women and their children; and there is very
little doubt but that most of them, without
this timely precaution, would fail to secure
many little comforts which are very desirable
in the winter months.

At the conclusion of our year—that is, one
week previous to Christmas—our book is
closed, the cards are called in, and orders are
then issued to their respective holders, for
goods to the amounts they appear entitled to,
which are procurable from tradesmen at
prices below what they could be purchased
for elsewhere.

This day is a busy one for us, and we
generally receive the aid of our respected
curate and his sister in the distribution of our
tickets, and the donation of a small loaf of
bread to each member. On more than one
occasion, I have had the curiosity to visit the
shops on this day at which the goods are
purchased, to satisfy myself as to the nature
of the articles taken. The result of my
inquiries has been most satisfactory, for in no
case have I ever found that anything but the
most absolute necessaries are sought for. Not
an article of finery, not one superfluity has
been inquired for by those humble economists,
who are only too glad to obtain warm and
comfortable apparel or bed furniture.

Some families contain as many as half a
score of subscribers, and those will not
unfrequently be entitled to several pounds at
the end of the year. One very cheering
circumstance in the history of this establishment,
is the fact that most of our members
have continued with us for years; the numbers
of those who leave are very few. And again, I
find that the longer our members are with us,
the more they desire to place their children on
the list; very many who began as penny
members, have long since become subscribers
of threepence each, and would doubtless go
still higher did our rules admit of it.

On the whole, then, I think I have fair
grounds for being perfectly satisfied with the
working of this our Penny Society. My hope
and desire is now to hear of scores of similar
institutions springing up wherever there are
neighbourhoods of poor, hard-working people
—in other words, everywhere. I believe
there are some few others scattered about the
metropolis, though not conducted on precisely
similar principles. Let Manchester, Leeds,
Birmingham, and Sheffield, each have one or
two of these societies. No large effort is
needed, no heavy subscription list is required
to set them going. One right-minded man,
having the confidence of the poor in his
vicinity, may, single-handed, if he wills it, do
all that is necessary in the good cause. Happy
shall I be, indeed, if these few passages prove
all-powerful in distant places, to rouse some
of my fellows to action, and call forth much
of that usefulness and neighbourly aid, which
all have it in their power to render to those
less favoured than themselves.

THE TWO STATUES.

IN an old city's market-place of yore,
   Fronting the mansion of a feudal lord,
Stood Justice blindfold, and aloft she bore
   The well-poised balance, and uplifted sword,
In all men's sight; yet vain her warning gesture,
   There, wrong and violence held rule severe;
And, 'mid the foldings of her ample vesture,
   Birds built, and reared their broods from year to year.

The mansion grim one inmate passing sweet,
   One Blanche, an orphan handmaid did retain,
Content the bread of servitude to eat,
   In daily tendance on the chatelaine.
Back came the lady's son from warfare knightly,
   From struggles of ihe Ghibeline and Guelph—
Trained in all courtly lore, and tutored rightly
   To guide and govern all men—save himself.