etimes think I am not like a Pole; and if she
should discover me"--

"No fear of that in the world; your costume is perfect, your beard
unexceptionable. I could, perhaps, have desired a little less paunch;
but then"--

"That comes of fretting, as Falstaff says; and you must not forget that
I am banished from my country."

"Now, as to your conversation, I should advise you saying very little
--not one word in English. You may, if you like, call in the assistance
of Irish when hard pressed?

"I have my fears on that score. There is no knowing where that might
lead to discovery. You know the story of the Knight of Kerry and Billy
McCabe?"

"I fear I must confess my ignorance--I have never heard of it."

"Then may be you never knew Giles Daxon?"

"I have not had that pleasure either."

"Lord bless me, how strange that is! I thought he was better known than
the Duke of Wellington or the travelling piper. Well, I must tell you
the story, for it has a moral, too--indeed several morals; but you'll
find that out for yourself. Well, it seems that one day the Knight of
Kerry was walking along the Strand in London, killing an hour's time,
till the house was done prayers, and Hume tired of hearing himself
speaking; his eye was caught by an enormous picture displayed upon the
wall of a house, representing a human figure covered with long dark hair,
with huge nails upon his hands, and a most fearful expression of face.
At first the Knight thought it was Dr. Bowring; but on coming nearer he
heard a man with a scarlet livery and a cocked hat, call out, 'Walk in,
ladies and gentlemen--the most vonderful curiosity ever exhibited--only
one shilling--the vild man from Chippoowango, in Africay--eats raw
wittles without being cooked, and many other surprising and pleasing
performances.'

"The knight paid his money, and was admitted. At first the crowd
prevented his seeing any thing--for the place was full to suffocation,
and the noise awful--for, besides the exclamations and applause of the
audience, there were three barrel-organs, playing 'Home, sweet Home!' and
'Cherry Ripe,' and the wild man himself contributed his share to the
uproar. At last, the Knight obtained, by dint of squeezing, and some
pushing a place in the front, when, to his very great horror, he beheld a
figure that far eclipsed the portrait without doors.

"It was a man nearly naked, covered with long, shaggy hair, that grew
even over his nose and cheek