A CHILD OF THE JAGO
"Nice sort o' thing, ain't it?" said Jerry Gullen, with indignant sarcasm, jerking his thumb toward the new church.
"The street 's clean ruined. Wot's the good o' livin' 'ere now? W'y, a man mustn't even do a click, blimy!"
"An' doncher?" asked Josh, with a grin. Hereat another grin broke wide on Jerry Gullen's face, and he went his way with a wink and a whistle.
"And so you 're back again. Josh Perrott!" said old Beveridge, seedier than ever, with the 'Hard Up' fresh chalked on the changeless hat. "Back again! Pity you couldn't stay there, isn't it? Pity we can't all stay there."
Josh looked after the gaunt old figure with much doubt and a vague indignation; for such a view was foreign to his understanding. And as he looked Father Sturt came out of the church, and laid his hand on Josh's shoulder.
"What!" exclaimed the vicar, "home
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