One such put a
sudden end to the exhibition. A young ragamuffin drew near with a
handful of rich mud, and carefully cast it right into the singer's
inverted mouth. The man was on his feet in an instant, and pursuing
the assailant, who, however, succeeded in escaping down an alley
hard by. Returning, the man went from one to another in the crowd,
holding out his hand. Harriet passed on into the bar.
"Slimy's up to his larks to-night," exclaimed Mrs. Sprowl, with a
laugh, as she welcomed her visitor in the bar-parlour. "He'll be
losin' his sweet temper just now, see if he don't, an' then one o'
them chaps 'll get a bash i' the eye."
"I always like to see him singing on his head," said Harriet, who
seemed at once thoroughly at her ease in the atmosphere of beer and
pipes.
"It's funny, ain't it? And 'ow's the world been a-usin' you,
Harriet? Seen anything more o' that affectionate friend o' yourn?"
This was said with a grin, and a significant wink.
"Have you found out anything about her?" asked Harriet eagerly.
"Why yes, I have; somethin' as 'll amuse you. It's just as I
thought."
"How do you mean?"
"Why, Bella, was in 'ere th' other night, so I says to her, 'Bella,'
I says, 'didn't you never hear of a girl called Ida Starr?' I says.
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