hed citizens on it. That convention was worth to me a good
hundred dollars."

With every respect for the precedent established by Podhammer and
associates, Marcus Wilkeson preferred to sleep alone, as he had done for
twenty years. He privately expressed to the landlord a desire for one of
the mattresses which had done duty during the convention.

The landlord smiled, evidently regarding the request as eccentric and
unreasonable, but nodded "All right." As for Tiffles and Patching,
having shared the same couch several nights during the incubation of the
panorama, the problem of how to distribute three men among two beds
gave them no concern. Pigworth then retired.

Marcus Wilkeson's first act was to open the windows, and mix some fresh
air with the damp and mouldy atmosphere of the apartment. Patching's
first act was to light his pipe, and throw himself on the nearest bed
for a smoke. Tiffles's first act was to inspect the rent which the
impertinent small boy had discovered, and make temporary repairs with a
pin. Having done these things, and arranged their toilets hastily in a
mirror with a crack running through it like a streak of lightning, the
three adventurers sallied forth, and crossed the street to
Washington Hall.

CHAPTER IV.

STOOP.

Washington Hall was the only place of public congregation, excepting the
churches, in the village. It was used on Sunday by a small but clamorous
religious sect; on Monday by a lodge of Free Masons; on Tuesday by a
lodge of Odd Fellows; on Wednesday by the Sons of Temperance; and for
the balance of the week was open to any description of exhibition that
came along. It was originally built for a loft, and its reconstruction
into a public hall was an afterthought. It was situated over a drug
store, and was owned by the druggist, Mr. Boolpin, who was universally
regarded as the meanest man in the village.

As the three drew near the door, Mr. Boolpin, strongly smelling of
aloes, and carrying a pestle in his hand, came out to greet them. He, in
common with all the inhabitants, knew that the "pannyrarmer folks" were
in town. The small boys had borne the glad intelligence all abroad. A
number of citizens, who had been lying in wait, issued forth with Mr.
Boolpin, and looked hard at the three.

"The proprietor of the hall," said Mr. Boolpin, introducing himself.

"My name is Wesley," responded Tiffles. He then introduced Patching as
Signor Ceccarini, and Wilkeson as Mr. Wil