* A CHAPTER OF ACCIDENTS ' 219 



rubbish-heap from time to time. Old maids gnaw 

 their bones very clean, and do not seem to leave 

 many scraps, but they evidently draw the line at 

 bacon-rind and herrings' heads, of which I am 

 particularly fond, as I think that I have mentioned 

 already. Still, I was driven to play the burglar 

 pretty frequently, and my method of entrance was 

 to climb up the pile of rubbish out of the window 

 of the shed, which did not boast of any glass, 

 because the old ladies were too poor to spend 

 money on useless luxuries, along the side of an 

 iron tank full of rain-water, which was used on 

 washing-day, and through the window of the boot- 

 hole, where one pane of glass was also missing. 

 From there I had an easy jump on to a dirty shelf, 

 where there was always an old saucer with the 

 remains of blacking still clinging to it. I generally 

 had a lick at this on my way, as blacking tastes 

 sweet and sugary. Another small jump took me 

 on to a block of wood, and a third landed me 

 on the floor. The door of the boothole had dis- 

 appeared, and that of the larder had lost a hinge, 

 so that it was difficult to shut it quite close. I 

 nearly always found room to squeeze through, and 

 when I was once fairly inside I helped myself to 

 the best that I could find, without leaving too 



