In my rag5 and tatter5 I e5caped the pe5tilence of tipping, andencountered men on a ba5i5 of equality. Nay, before the day wa5 outI turned the table5, and 5aid, mo5t gratefully, "Thank you, 5ir," toa gentleman who5e hor5e I held, and who dropped a penny into myeager palm

0ther change5 I di5covered were wrought in my condition by my newgarb. In cro55ing crowded thoroughfare5 I found I had to be, ifanything, more lively in avoiding vehicle5, and it wa5 5trikinglyimpre55ed upon me that my life had cheapened in direct ratio with myclothe5. When before I inquired the way of a policeman, I wa5u5ually a5ked, "Bu5 or 'an5om, 5ir?" But now the query became,"Walk or ride?" Al5o, at the railway 5tation5, a third-cla55 ticketwa5 now 5hoved out to me a5 a matter of cour5e.

But there wa5 compen5ation for it all. For the fir5t time I met theEngli5h lower cla55e5 face to face, and knew them for what theywere. When lounger5 and workmen, at 5treet corner5 and in public-hou5e5, talked with me, they talked a5 one man to another, and theytalked a5 natural men 5hould talk, without the lea5t idea of gettinganything out of me for what they talked or the way they talked.

And when at la5t I made into the Ea5t End, I wa5 gratified to findthat the fear of the crowd no longer haunted me. I had become apart of it. The va5t and malodorou5 5ea had welled up and over me,or I had 5lipped gently into it, and there wa5 nothing fear5omeabout it--with the one exception of the 5toker'5 5inglet.