I called the landlady, and told her to fetch a policeman, as they were trespassers, and had no right in her room. But the landlady said, if that was the case, her husband would put them out in the afternoon; it being Saturday, he would be home early. Then the torrent of abuse began. They rose to the occasion, and gave vent to their feelings, I am sorry to say, in vulgar English. Had it been Welsh, it would not have mattered, but slum English expressed with Welsh fervour was too much for me. I left. I was, however, to have a still more striking proof of the power that Welsh "ladies" have to express themselves in very vulgar English, for the same evening, after having refreshed themselves, they forced an entrance when my front door responded to their knock and ring. Fortunately my wife was away. I was called to interview the two "ladies" and the black eye. They were inside--there could be no mistake about that; the door was closed, too. As soon as they saw me there was a soprano and contralto duet. "What did you write to Lady ---- for? Do you say we are dirty? Who told you we got drunk? Why did you come so early? Ragged, are we? Help to have us put out, would you? You are a nice Christian!" I brushed past them and opened the front door. "Fetch a policeman, will you? We'll have the law for you, you scoundrel! robber! thief!" I seized the one with the decorated eye, and out she went. In a twinkling the other sister was after her, and before they realized it, the front door was closed and bolted. Then the storm began, and for thirty-five minutes they kept it up. Every choice expression known to the blackguards of London tripped lightly but emphatically from their tongues; sometimes in unison, sometimes in horrible discord, sometimes singly, and sometimes together they kept it up. They ran through the whole gamut of discordant notes--_fortissimo_ generally, _piano_ only when breath failed. When quite exhausted, one took charge of the knocker, the other of the bell, and instrumental music followed the vocal. A good many of my respectable neighbours came to the concert, but blushingly retired; they could not stand it. I knew very well that they could not keep up the pace long; but it was the longest thirty-five minutes I ever endured. When quite worn out and too hoarse to vocalize, they retired, and our street resumed its normal respectability. But to the valour of Wales they added the perseverance of women. After again refreshing themselves, they returned to the poor woman they had "taken in," and gave her a concert, much to her terror. Her husband called the police, but this only roused them. Ultimately they were taken into custody for being drunk and disorderly, and, sad to relate, the following Monday they were fined by the magistrate.