Perhaps they are beyond Mr. Herbert Spencer.
Our ragged regiment met in a wide, quiet field. Nearly all my costers
were about, and they cried "Wayo!" with cordiality. Half the company on
the field could not muster threepence in the world; many of them were
probably hungry; many were far gone in drink; but all were eager for
"sport." We shall have some talk presently about the bitter ennui of the
poor man's life. The existence of that deadly ennui never was brought
before me so vividly as it was when I saw that queer multitude,
forgetting hunger, cold, poverty, pain--and forgetting because they were
about to see some rabbits worried!
On a low stand stood a broad pair of scales and an immense hamper. The
stand was watched by a red-faced merryandrew, who gibbered and yelled in
a vigorous manner. A funny reprobate is that old person. Every hour of
his life is given over to the search for excitement; he is never dull;
he has a cheery word for all whom he meets; he will drink, fight, and
even make love, with all the ardour of youth.
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