A young sot; a premature wreck; physical inability to do a stoker's work; the gutter or the workhouse; and the end,- he saw it all, as clearly as I, but it held no terrors for him.From the moment of his birth, all the forces of his environment had tended to harden him, and he viewed his wretched, inevitable future with a callousness and unconcern I could not shake.
And yet he was not a bad man.He was not inherently vicious and brutal.He had normal mentality, and a more than average physique.His eyes were blue and round, shaded by long lashes, and wide apart.And there was a laugh in them, and a fund of humor behind.The brow and general features were good, the mouth and lips sweet, though already developing a harsh twist.The chin was weak, but not too weak; Ihave seen men sitting in the high places with weaker.