‘But what am I to do?’ 

 ‘Why, give ’em another rouser—let ’em know as you won’t be kidded!’ 

 I hesitated; then, acting on his suggestion, for the second time I rang the bell. The door was flung wide open, and the grizzled pauper, who had previously responded to my summons, stood in the open doorway. Had he been the Chairman of the Board of Guardians himself he could not have addressed me with greater scorn. 

 ‘What, here again! What’s your little game? Think I’ve nothing better to do than to wait upon the likes of you?’ 

 ‘I want to be admitted.’ 

 ‘Then you won’t be admitted!’ 

 ‘I want to see someone in authority.’ 

 ‘Ain’t yer seein’ someone in authority?’ 

 ‘I want to see someone besides you,—I want to see the master.’ 

 ‘Then you won’t see the master!’ 

 He moved the door swiftly to; but, prepared for such a manoeuvre, I thrust my foot sufficiently inside to prevent his shutting it. I continued to address him. 

 ‘Are you sure that the ward is full?’ 

 ‘Full two hours ago!’ 

 ‘But what am I to do?’ 

 ‘I don’t know what you’re to do!’ 

 ‘Which is the next nearest workhouse?’ 

 ‘Kensington.’ 

 Suddenly opening the door, as he answered me, putting out his arm he thrust me backwards. Before I could recover the door was closed. The man in rags had continued a grim spectator of the scene. Now he spoke. 

 ‘Nice bloke, ain’t he?’ 

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