When I have traversed the streets a houseless wanderer, driven with curses from every door where I have solicited alms, and with blows from every gateway where I have sought shelter,—when I have crept into some deserted building, and stretched my wearied limbs upon a bulk, in the vain hope of repose,—or, worse than all, when, frenzied with want, I have yielded to horrible temptation, and earned a meal in the only way I could earn one,—when I have felt, at times like these, my heart sink within me, I have drank of this drink, and have at once forgotten my cares, my poverty, my guilt. I’ve seen Brewis Charvill, by the by. After all, life had still its pulsations. "Come away!" he cried, with the roar of a demon. , but its volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous locations. ” “But it’s on condition one doesn’t do anything. What with these converging roofs that shut out all but a hand's breadth of the sky, sunshine was rare at this point.
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