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In the afternoon of ‘Boxing-day,’ 1865, I had to pass through Drury Lane, and some of the worst of the ‘slums’ which find vent therein. There was a general movement in the place, and the effect was not savoury. There was a going to-and-fro of groups of people, and there was nothing picturesque in them; assemblings of children, but alas! nothing lovable in them. It was a universal holiday, yet its aspect was hideous.