How went on Honey Fair? Better and worse, better and worse, according to custom; the worse over the better.  
Of all its inhabitants, none had advanced so well as Robert East. Honestly to confess it, that is not saying much; since the greater portion, instead of advancing in the world's social scale, had retrograded. Robert had left the manufactory he had worked for and was now second foreman at Mr. Ashley's. He was also becoming through an excellent scholar in a plain way. He had had one friend to help him; and that was William Halliburton.
 
The Easts had removed to a better house; one of those which had a garden in front of it. No garden was more than theirs; and it was kept in order by Robert and Thomas East. The house was larger than they required, and part of it was occupied by Stephen and his daughter. It was known that the Easts were putting by money: and Honey Fair wondered: for none lived more comfortably, more respectably. Honey Fair—taking it as a whole—lived neither comfortably nor respectably. The Fishers had never come out of the workhouse, and Joe was dead. The Crosses, turned from their home, their furniture sold, had found ; two rooms. as ever, were they. They did not attempt to rise even to their former condition; but on, living from hand to mouth. The Masons, man and wife, passed their time agreeably in quarrels. At least, that it was agreeable may be assumed, for the quarrels never ceased. Now and then they were by a fight. The children were growing up without training; and Caroline—ah! I don't know that it will do much good to ask after her. Caroline, years ago, had taken a false step; and, try as she would, she could not her footing. She lived in a garret alone. She had so lived a long while; and she worked her fingers to the bone to keep body and soul together, and went about with her head down. Honey Fair looked askance at her, and gathered up its petticoats when they saw her coming, as you saw Eliza Tyrrett gather up hers, lest they should come into contact with those contaminations. The Carters thrived; the Brumms, also, were better off than they used to be; and the Buffles did so excellently that a joke went about that they would be retiring on their fortune: but the greater portion of Honey Fair was full of trouble and .
 
William Halliburton frequently found himself in Honey Fair. It was the most direct road from his house to that of Monsieur Colin, the French master. William, inclined by nature, had sometimes dropped in at one or other of the houses. He would find Robert East labouring at his books much more than he need have laboured had some little assistance been given him in his progress. William good-naturedly undertook to supply it. It became quite a common thing for him to go round and pass an hour with the Easts and Stephen Crouch.
 
The unpleasant social features of Honey Fair thus themselves on William Halliburton's notice; it was impossible that any one passing much through Honey Fair should not be struck with them. Could nothing be done to rescue the people from this degraded condition?—and a degraded one it was, compared with what it might have been. Young and inexperienced as he was, it was a question that sometimes arose to William's mind. Dirty homes, scolding mothers, and pining children, rough and swearing husbands! Waste, , evil. The women laid the blame on the men: reproached them with wasting their evenings and their money at the public-house. The men retorted upon the women, and said they had not a home "fit for a pig to come into." Meanwhile the money, whether earned by husband or wife, went. It went somehow, bringing nothing to show for it, and the least possible return of good. Thus they struggled and squabbled on, their lives little better than one continued scene of , discomfort, and . At a year's end they were not in the least bettered, not in the least raised, socially, morally, or , from their condition at the year's commencement. Nothing had been achieved; except that they were one year nearer to the great barrier which separates time from .
 
Ask them what they were and struggling for. They did not know. What was their end, their aim? They had none. If they could only rub on, and keep body and soul together (as poor Caroline Mason was trying to do in her garret), it appeared to be all they cared for. They did not endeavour to lift up their hopes or their above that; they were willing so to go on until death should come. What a life! what an end!
 
A feeling would now and then come over William that he might in some way help them to attempt better things. To do so was a duty which seemed to be lying across his path, that he might take it up and make it his. How to set about it, he knew no more than the Man in the Moon. Now and then disheartening moments would come upon him. To attempt to sweep away the evils of Honey Fair appeared a far more formidable task than to the Augean Stables could ever have appeared to Hercules. He knew that any endeavour, whether on his part or on that of others, who might be far more experienced and capable than he, would be fruitless unless the to , to strive to do better, should be first born within themselves. Ah, my friends! the aid of others may be looked upon as a great thing; but without self-struggle and self-help little good will be effected.
 
One evening in passing the house occupied by the Crosses the door was flung violently open, a girl of fifteen flew out and a saucer of wet tea-leaves came flying after her. The tea-leaves alighted on the girl's neck, just escaping William's arm. It was the youngest girl of the family, Patty. The tea-leaves had come from Mrs. Cross. Her face was red with passion, her voice loud; the girl, on her part, was insulting and abusive. Mrs. Cross had her hands stretched out, to scratch, or tear, or pull hair, and a personal skirmish would have ensued but for the chance of William's being there. He received the hands upon his arm and to detain them.
 
"What's the matter, Mrs. Cross?"
 
"Matter!" Mrs. Cross. "She's a idle, impedent wicked huzzy—that's what's the matter. She knows I've my gloving to get in for Saturday, and not a stroke'll she help. There's the dishes lying dirty from dinner, the tea-cups lying from tea, and touch 'em she won't. She expects me to do it, and me with my gloving to find 'em in food! I took hold of her arm to make her do it, and she turned and struck at me, the good-for-nothing faggot! I hope none on it didn't go on you, sir," added Mrs. Cross, somewhat modifying her voice, and pausing to recover breath.
 
"Better that it had gone on my coat than on Patty's neck," replied he, in a good-natured, half-joking tone; though, indeed, the girl, with her evil look at her mother, her air, stood there scarcely worth his defence. "If my mother asked me to wash tea-things or do anything else, Patty, I should do it, and think it a pleasure to help her," he added, to the girl.
 
Patty pushed her hair behind her ears, and turned a look upon her mother. Hidden as she had thought it from William, he saw it.
 
"You just wait," nodded Mrs. Cross, in answer as defiant. "I'll make your back smart by-and-by."
 
Which of the two was the more in fault? It was hard to say. The girl had never been brought up to know her duty, or to do it. The mother from her earliest childhood had given abuse and blows; no , words; no training. Little wonder, now Patty was growing up, that she turned again. It was the usual sort of government throughout Honey Fair. In these, and similar cases, where could interference or counsel avail, unless the spirit of the mothers and daughters could be changed?
 
William walked on, after the little episode of the tea-leaves. He could not help contrasting these homes with his home; their life with his life. He was given to reflection beyond his years, and he wished these people could be aroused to improvement both of mind and body. They were living for no end; toiling only to satisfy the wants of the day—nay, to arrest the wants, rather than to satisfy them. How many of them were so much as thinking of another world? Their toil and in this was too great to enable them to cast a thought to the next.
 
"I wonder," William, as he stepped towards M. Colin's, "whether some of the better-conducted of the men might not be induced to come round to East's in an evening? It might be a beginning, at any rate. Once wean the men from the public-houses, and there's no knowing what reform might be effected. I would willingly give up an hour or two of my evenings to them!"
 
His visit to M. Colin over, he his steps to Honey Fair and turned into Robert East's. It was past eight o'clock then. Robert and Stephen Crouch were home from work, and were getting out their books. Charlotte sat by, at work as usual, and Tom East was drawing Charlotte's head towards him, to whisper something to her.
 
"Robert," said William, speaking , the moment he entered, "I wonder whether you could induce a few of your neighbours to come here of an evening?"
 
"What for, sir?" asked Robert turning round from the book-shelves where he stood, searching for some volume.
 
"It might be so much better for them. It might end in being so. I wish," he added with sudden warmth, "we could get all Honey Fair here!"
 
"All Honey Fair!" echoed Stephen Crouch in .
 
"I mean what I say, Crouch."
 
"Why, sir, the room wouldn't hold a quarter or a tenth part, or a hundredth part of them."
 
William laughed. "No, that it would not, practically. There is so much discomfort around us, and—and ill-doing—I must call it so, for want of a better name—that I sometimes wish we could mend it a little."
 
"Who mend it, sir?"
 
"Any one who would try. You two might help towards it. If you could a few round here, and get them to be interested in your own evening occupation—books and rational conversation—and so wean them from the public-houses, it would be a great thing."
 
"There'd never be any ............