glasses, bundle and stick, looking for
Bridlington on the road to Southgate.

I do not know whether the poor fellow ever arrived at Bridlington, but
this I do know, that he has found his way northwards, and that he is now
groping and inquiring for Dawlish in Devonshire.

The Manchester Guardian tells us that one silent evening hour poor
Angus was discovered in several different places in the vicinity of
Manchester. The same paper of the next day's date stated that eleven out
of the twelve who met poor Angus were so overcome by the poignancy
of his narrative and the stupendous character of his task, that they
promptly gave him financial assistance. I am strongly of the opinion
that the twelfth man was entirely without money at the time he met
Angus, or I feel that he would have proved no exception to the rule. In
my heart I was glad to find that the hard-headed citizens of Manchester
are just as kind-hearted and likely to be imposed upon as we are in
London.

But Angus has been playing his fame for six years at least, for one
gentleman who gave him explicit directions more than five years ago
writes to the Manchester Guardian saying, "I am afraid he took a wrong
turning."

It is evident that Angus has done fairly well at his business, and yet
it would appear that he never asked for a single penny since he first
started on his endless search. He always accepts money reluctantly,
and I much question whether the police have right to arrest him, or the
gulled public any ground to complain.

But if Angus should ever get to his kind uncle at Bridlington, and that
respected gentleman should return the five shillings we gave to help his
unfortunate nephew, I will promise to be more careful in pressing money
upon strangers in future. But whether the money comes to hand or not I
have made myself a promise, and it is this: never more to get out of a
warm bed on a cold night to open the house and entertain a half-blind
man that speaks with a rich Scotch accent.

But how clever it all is! Why, its very audacity ensures its success,
and Angus, for aught I know, has many fellow-craftsmen. Certainly if he
is alone he must be almost ubiquitous. But Angus and such-like are not
to be wondered at, for Nature herself endows all living things with
the powers to adapt themselves to circumstances and obtain the means
of defence and offence from their conditions. So Nature deals with
the human family, in whom the struggle for existence de