substitute for food. At half-past ten Bozo arrived, tired out and haggard, for his mangled leg made walking an agony. He had not earned a penny at screeving, all the pitches under shelter being taken, and for several hours he had begged outright, with one eye on the policemen. He had amassed eightpence -- a penny short of his kip. It was long past the hour for paying, and he had only managed to slip indoors when the deputy was not looking; at any moment he might be caught and turned out, to sleep on the Embankment. Bozo took the things out of his pockets and looked them over, debating what to sell. He decided on his razor, took it round the kitchen, and in a few minutes he had sold it for threepence -- enough to pay his kip, buy a basin of tea, and leave a half-penny over. Bozo got his basin of tea and sat down by the fire to dry his clothes. As he drank the tea I saw that he was laughing to himself, as though at some good joke. Surprised, I asked him what he had to laugh at. 'It's bloody funny!' he said. 'It's funny enough for Punch . What do you think I been and done?' 'What?' 'Sold my razor without having a shave first: Of all the -- fools!' He had not eaten since the morning, had walked several miles with a twisted leg, his clothes were drenched, and he had