two
sovereigns for him; I won't pay him nothin' for the kickin', for that
I give him out of contempt, for not defendin' of himself. Here's three
sovereigns for the bar-maid; she don't ought to have nothin', for she
never got so innocent a kiss afore, in all her born days I know, for
I didn't mean no harm, and she never got so good a one afore nother,
that's a fact; but then _I_ ought to pay, I do suppose, because I hadn't
ought to treat a lady that way; it was onhansum', that's fact; and
besides, it tante right to give the galls a taste for such things. They
come fast enough in the nateral way, do kisses, without inokilatin'
folks for 'em. And here's a sovereign for the scoldin' and siscerarin'
you gave the maid, that spilt the coals and that's an eend of the
matter, and I don't want no receipt.'

"Well, he bowed and walked off, without sayin' of a word."

Here Mr. Hopewell joined us, and we descended to the street, to commence
our perambulation of the city; but it had begun to rain, and we were
compelled to defer it until the next day.

"Well, it ain't much matter, Squire," said Mr. Slick: "ain't that
Liverpool, I see out of the winder? Well, then I've been to Liverpool.
Book me for London. So I have seen Liverpool at last, eh! or, as Rufus
said, I have felt it too, for this wet day reminds me of the rest of his
story.

"In about a half hour arter Rufus raced off to the Falls, back he
comes as hard as he could tear, a-puffing and a blowin' like a sizeable
grampus. You never seed such a figure as he was, he was wet through and
through, and the dry dust stickin' to his clothes, made him look like a
dog, that had jumped into the water, and then took a roll in the road to
dry hisself; he was a caution to look at, that's a fact.

"'Well,' sais I, 'Stranger, did you see the Falls?'

"'Yes,' sais he, 'I have see'd 'em and felt 'em too; them's very wet
Falls, that's a fact. I hante a dry rag on me; if it hadn't a been for
that ere Britisher, I wouldn't have see'd 'em at all, and yet a thought
I had been there all the time. It's a pity too, that that winder don't
bear on it, for then you could see it without the trouble of goin'
there, or gettin' ducked, or gettin' skeered so. I got an awful fright
there--I shall never forget it, if I live as long as Merusalem. You know
I hadn't much time left, when. I found out I hadn't been there arter
all, so I ran all the way, right down as hard as I could clip; and,
seein' some folk