ither hand, while the galvanist grinds away
at the machine.

When a hundred or more eyes are levelled upon you he suddenly
increases the motion in a manner that leaves no doubt in your mind
that that man has magnetism about him, whether he be a "professor" or
not. Of course your rheumatism at once disappears: it would do the
same had you fallen from the roof of a house.

Tommy had a strong inclination to be "cured" by the "professor of
galvanism," but he conscientiously recalled Master Lewis's advice
about the purse.

A man with a wonderfully bedecked performing monkey was leaving the
square, and, as a sort of testimony to the attraction of his
exhibition, a crowd of boys and girls were following him. Tommy wished
to see a performance that had evidently excited so much interest, and
he allowed himself to be borne along after the man in the juvenile
tide. After passing through several streets, the performer stopped in
an open court, but for some reason was ordered away. Tommy found
himself left almost alone in an antique-looking place, where there
were in sight neither omnibuses nor cabs.

"Which is the way to Regent Street?" asked Tommy of a sad-looking
little girl.

"Dunno," said Sad Eyes; "'ave ye got a penny?"

"What for?"

"For tellin' ye."

Tommy made other inquiries, but received about as definite information
as at first, and each person followed the unsatisfactory answer with,
"'Ave ye a penny?" as though it was worth that trifling amount to open
one's mouth.

An honest-looking house-wife, without bonnet or shawl, came marching
along the street with an air of friendly interest.

"Will you direct me to a street where I can find a hack?" asked Tommy.

"A what?"

"A cab."

"I guess yer lost, ar'n't ye?"

"If you will be so kind as to direct me to Regent Street or Oxford
Street, or Pall Mall, I will pay you."

[Illustration: "'AVE YOU GOT A PENNY?"]

Tommy felt in his pocket for his purse. It was _not_ there.

"Give me yer hand, little boy," said the benevolent-looking dame.

The two walked on through several streets, when the woman said,--

"This street will take you to Oxford Street. 'Ave you got a penny?"

"No," said Tommy; "I have lost it."

"Oh, you blackguard--"

Tommy did not stop to hear any figurative language, but found his way
to Oxford Street as quickly as possible, and took with him to the
hotel so deep a sense of humiliation that he did not relate the
misadventure and loss