he had written. Then he dismissed me, saying that,
though he never went to church, he spent much of every Sunday afternoon
alone, musing on the magnificence of Nature and the moral dignity of
man.

I compiled the "Chronicles of Newgate," reviewed books for the "Review,"
and occasionally tried my best to translate into German portions of the
publisher's philosophy. But the "Review" did not prove a successful
speculation, and with its decease its corps of writers broke up. I was
paid, not in cash, but in bills, one payable at twelve, the other at
eighteen months after date. It was a long time before I could turn these
bills to any account. At last I found a person willing to cash them at a
discount of only thirty per cent.

By the month of October I had accomplished about two-thirds of the
compilation of the Newgate lives, and had also made some progress with
the German translation. But about this time I had begun to see very
clearly that it was impossible that our connection would be of long
duration; yet, in the event of my leaving the big man, what had I to
offer another publisher? I returned to my labour, finished the German
translation, got paid in the usual style, and left that employer.

_III.--The Spirit of Stonehenge_

One morning I discovered that my whole worldly wealth was reduced to a
single half-crown, and throughout that day I walked about in
considerable distress of mind. By a most singular chance I again came
across my friend Petulengro in a fair into which I happened to wander
when walking by the side of the river beyond London. My gipsy friend was
seated with several men, carousing beside a small cask. He sprang up,
greeting me cordially, and we chatted in Romany as we walked about
together. Questioning me closely, he soon discovered that by that time I
had only eighteen pence in my pocket.

Said Jasper: "I, too, have been in the big city; but I have not been
writing books. I have fought in the ring. I have fifty pounds in my
pocket, and I have much more in the world. Brother, there is
considerable difference between us." But he could not prevail on me to
accept or to borrow money, for I said that if I could not earn, I would
starve. "Come and stay with us," said he. "Our tents and horses are on
the other side of yonder wooded hill. We shall all be glad of your
company, especially myself and my wife, Pakomovna."

I declined the kind invitation and walked on. Returning to the great
city, I su