“Here’s a rahm,” he said, at last, flinging back a cranky board on hinges. “It’s weel eneugh to ate a few porridge in. There’s a pack o’ corn i’ t’ corner, thear, meeterly clane; if ye’re feared o’ muckying yer grand silk cloes, spread yer hankerchir o’ t’ top on’t.”

The “rahm” was a kind of lumber-hole smelling strong of malt and grain; various sacks of which articles were piled around, leaving a wide, bare space in the middle.

“Why, man,” I exclaimed, facing him angrily, “this is not a place to sleep in. I wish to see my bedroom.”

“ Bed-rume! ” he repeated, in a tone of mockery. “Yah’s see all t’ bed-rumes thear is⁠—yon’s mine.”

He pointed into the second garret, only differing from the first in being more naked about the walls, and having a large, low, curtainless bed, with an indigo-coloured quilt, at one end.