"It's moving-day to day," he said; "streets and houses are like

a dust-bin- a large dust-bin; but I'm content with a cartload. I may

get something good out of that, and I really did get something good

out of it once. Shortly after Christmas I was going up the street;

it was rough weather, wet and dirty- the right kind of weather to

catch cold in. The dustman was there with his cart, which was full,

and looked like a sample of streets on moving-day. At the back of

the cart stood a fir tree, quite green still, and with tinsel on its