He is a good man."
"His coat is of a good cloth," answered her customer, a young man with
a melancholy dark eye and a racial appreciation of the material things
of this world.
Some say that it is not wise to pass through St. Jacob Straat or Bezem
Straat alone and after nightfall, for there are lurking forms within
the doorways, and shuffling feet may be heard in the many passages.
During the daytime the passer-by will, if he looks up quickly enough,
see furtive faces at the windows, of men, and more especially of women,
who never seem to come abroad, but pass their lives behind those
unwashed curtains, with carefully closed windows, and in an atmosphere
which may be faintly imagined by a glance at the wares in the shop
below. The pavement of St. Jacob Straat is also pressed into the
service of that commerce in old metal and damaged domestic utensils
which seems to enable thousands of the accursed people to live and
thrive according to their lights. It will be observed that the vendors,
with a knowledge of human nature doubtless bred of experience, only
expose upon the pavement articles such as bedsteads, stoves, and other
heavy ware which may not be snatched up by the fleet of foot. Within
the shops are crowded clothes and books and a thousand miscellaneous
effects of small value. A hush seems to hang over this street. Even the
children, white-faced and melancholy, with deep expressionless eyes and
drooping noses, seem to have realized too soon the gravity of life, and
rarely indulge in games.
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