marching up, in little bands, who are only busy with their mouths.

There were ringing bells that rang alternately; and then came the

little drummers that beat their tattoo in the family circle; and

acquaintance was made with those who write without putting their

names, which here means as much as using grease instead of patent

blacking; and then there was the beadle with his boy, and the boy

was worst off, for in general he gets no notice taken of him; then,

too, there was the good street sweeper with his cart, who turns over