"_arbiters elegantiarum_," Of my
"_compagnons de voyage_," some were in gin, some in fumes and some in
glee, and the journey passed off without an incident.

On arriving at the Paddington terminus, an unlooked-for difficulty
presented itself. My costume attracted universal attention. It was, in
fact, _outre_ even in comparison with the most outlandish; for every
article had been carefully selected for its singularity. My "caubeen"
especially excited the risibility of the merry boys who thronged the
streets. I was soon followed by an uproarious crowd of most
incorrigible young rascals, who made lunges at my unfortunate head-gear.
They peered at me round lamp-posts, and occasionally, "Teigue," and
"Phelim," pronounced in a broad English accent, grated on my ear.
Although not indisposed to be merry, I grasped one of my tormentors and
handed him over to a policeman. The sentinel of city morals dismissed
him with a harsh rebuke, and threatened to "haul up" whoever gave me
further annoyance. We were then near Oxford street. I told him I wanted
to go to Tottenham Court road; but after making several fruitless
attempts to pronounce the name, his own fertile genius had to supply my
deficiency. He walked with me until the last unruly boy had disappeared,
and then he sent me on my way rejoicing, after having spent some minutes
in teaching me to articulate distinctly "Tottenham Court Road." It was
already nightfall. I felt as if all danger were passed. I could not
anticipate the check I was about to receive.

I knew a man named Parker, who resided in Museum Street. I thought his
house that to which I could easiest find access without exciting notice.
I made my way to it unobserved, rapped, and to my great relief the door
was opened by the man himself. He did not recognise me for some time,
but as soon as he did, he fell into a paroxysm half hysterical, half
frantic. I had completed his ruin, he exclaimed, and his unhappy family
would have to curse me as the cause of his destruction. He was ready to
sink on the floor in sheer terror, and with difficulty could he utter a
request that I should instantly leave his house. This was a command,
however harsh and heartless, which I dared not resist, for I was forced
to admit to myself that under his terrified exterior might lurk a
sentiment baser than fear.

I left the place in utter dismay. I could not venture into a house such
as I had lodged in at Bristol, the night before, because my