hether, with all his moral drawing, he was acquiring
quite as much solid information as he had set out to gain. This idea grew
upon him, till one morning, after gazing for some time at the English
newspaper he always made a point of reading, he suddenly exclaimed,
"Bonker, I haf a doubt!"

"I have many," replied Mr Bunker; "in fact, I have few positive ideas
left."

"Bot mine is a particulair doubt. Do I lairn enoff?"

"My own conception of enough learning, Baron, is a thing like a
threepenny-bit--the smallest coin one can do one's marketing with."

"And yet," said the Baron, solemnly, "for my own share, I am not
satisfied. I vould lairn more of ze British institutions; so far I haf
lairned of ze pleasures only."

"My dear Baron, they are the British institutions."

The Baron shook his head and fell to his paper again, while Mr Bunker
stretched himself on the sofa and gazed through his cigar-smoke at the
ceiling. Suddenly the Baron gave an exclamation of horror.

"My dear Baron, what is the matter?"

"Yet anozer outrage!" cried the Baron. "Zese anarchists, zey are too
scandalous. At all ze stations zere are detectives, and all ze ships are
being vatched. Ach, it is terrible!"

Mr Bunker seemed struck with an idea, for he stared at the ceiling without
making any reply, and his eyes, had the Baron seen them, twinkled
curiously.

At last the Baron laid down his paper.

"Vell, vat shall ve do?" he asked.

"Let us come first to Liverpool Street Station, if you don't mind, Baron,"
his friend suggested. "I have something in the cloak-room there I want to
pick up."

"My dear Bonker, I shall go vere you vill; bot remember I vant to-day more
instrogtion and less entertainment."

"You wish to see the practical side of English life?"

"Yah--zat is, yes."

Mr Bunker smiled.

"Then I must entertain myself."

As they drove down he was in his wittiest humour, and the Baron, in spite
of his desire for instruction, was more charmed with his friend than ever.

"Vat fonny zing vill you do next, eh?" he asked, as they walked arm-in-arm
into the station.

"I am no more the humourist, my dear Baron,--I shall endeavour to edify
you."

They had arrived at a busy hour, when the platforms were crowded with
passengers and luggage. A train had just come in, and around it the bustle
was at its height, and the confusion most bewildering.

"Wait for me here," said Mr Bunker; "I shall be back in a minute."

He started in