rable drop it was, and nearly fatal. On another occasion I
was carried in a small boat over the fall of a salmon weir, and hurried
along in the flood for almost three hundred yards. Each of these was a
situation of excitement and peril, and with considerable confusion as
the consequence; and yet I could deliberately recount you every
passing phase of my terror, from my first fright down to my complete
unconsciousness, with such small traits as would guarantee truthfulness;
while, of the scene upon which I now adventured, I preserve nothing
beyond the vaguest and most unconnected memory.

I remember my advance into the middle of the room. I have a recollection
of a large tea-urn, and beyond it a lady in a turban; another in long
ringlets there was. The urn made a noise like a small steamer, and there
was a confusion of voices--about what, I cannot tell--that increased the
uproar, and we were all standing up and all talking together; and there
was what seemed an angry discussion, and then the large turban and the
ringlets swept haughtily past me. The turban said, "This is too much,
sir!" and ringlets added, "Far too much, sir!" and as they reached the
door, there was Vaterchen on his head, with a branch of candles between
his feet to light them out, and Tintefleck, screaming with laughter,
threw herself into an arm-chair, and clapped a most riotous applause.

I stood a moment almost transfixed, then dashed out of the room, hurried
upstairs to my chamber, bolted the door, drew a great clothes-press
against it for further security, and then threw myself upon my bed
in one of those paroxysms of mad confusion, in which a man cannot say
whether he is on the verge of inevitable ruin, or has just been rescued
from a dreadful fate. I would not, if even I could, recount all that
I suffered that night There was not a scene of open shame and disgrace
that I did not picture to myself as incurring. I was everywhere in the
stocks or the pillory. I wore a wooden placard on my breast, inscribed,
"Potts the Impostor." I was running at top speed before hooting and
yelling crowds. I was standing with a circle of protecting policemen
amidst a mob eager to tear me to pieces. I was sitting on a hard stool
while my hair was being cropped _a la_ Pentonville, and a gray suit lay
ready for me when it was done. But enough of such a dreary record. I
believe I cried myself to sleep at last, and so soundly, too, that it
was very late in the afternoon