was
open, I found my way to the street door. _There_ I could certainly not
complain of being dull. If London had seemed bustling the night before,
what was it now by broad daylight, with the full sun shining on the
countless passengers! I could scarcely keep still myself, with the
excitement of watching such incessant movement.

To my great disappointment, before long, John called me in, fearing that
I might stray from the house and be lost or stolen. Of course, I obeyed
him directly; but he perceived my vexation, and good-naturedly showed me
a locker under the hall-window, where I might sit and study the humours
of London at my pleasure. I thought I should never be tired of looking
out of that window. The scene was so new and charming, that it
reconciled me at once to my present situation, and even to the hours
which might necessarily be passed in my ugly kennel. I really preferred
it to the Manor.

There, even while my master and Lily were living with me, we were a good
deal left to ourselves. A few foot passengers and carts might come by
in the course of the day, carriages and horses perhaps once in a week.
Visitors, if they came, stayed for hours, so that I had ample time to
make myself master of their characters, as well as those of their horses
and dogs. Every body whom I knew at all, I knew intimately; and
notwithstanding Pussy's hints about rash judgments, I doubt whether I
was ever really in danger of mistaking an honest man for a thief. But if
my old home was more favourable to tranquil reflection, certainly this
place had the advantage of amusement and variety. Here there was no time
for studying character, nor doing anything else _leisurely_. I scarcely
caught a glimpse of any one, before he was out of sight. A quiet nap was
out of the question; if I so much as winked, I lost the view of
something. The stream of comers and goers was ever flowing. Nobody stood
still, nobody turned back; nobody walked up and down, as my master and
his visitors used on the terrace, while I observed their manners; here,
as soon as one had passed, his place was taken by another. I watched for
hours, expecting that some time or other they would all have gone by,
and the street be left to silence and to me. But nothing of the sort
happened; they were still going on and on, crossing each other in every
direction; and for as many as went by, there seemed always twice as many
yet to come.

In time I grew less confused, and I went