id not see why he should do it at the top of his voice. I
had an inexplicable feeling that it was the duty of every one to know
something about London, and although I should not have recognized
Piccadilly Circus when I saw it, I was quite prepared to put that down
to the fog; for if Dennison had not taken so much for granted, I should
never willingly have given myself away to him.

When we reached the Parma I was very thirsty, but there were so many
people in the place that it was impossible to get near the bar. We
were jolted about by men who, having nothing else to say, shouted "Good
old Cambridge!" and "Now then, Oxford!" The pandemonium was deafening,
and Jack said to me that the whole thing wasn't good enough, and unless
you happened to feel like shoving into people and then pretending that
you were very sorry he was quite right.

A man standing on the steps at the top of the room began to make a
speech until somebody shoved him down, and his top-hat, having been
knocked off, was kicked about by everybody who could get near it. Men
whom I never remembered having seen before, shook me warmly by the hand
and treated me as if I was their greatest friend, but none of them
could get me anything to drink. This scene was subsequently described
as disgraceful, but it was really very dull, and after a few more
minutes spent in trying to make my voice heard in the noise, the lights
were turned out. The word "Johnnys" ran round the place, and there was
a big rush for the door leading into Piccadilly Circus. Fortunately I
got out at once, and I found myself marching clown Piccadilly in the
second row of a procession. Foster was next to me, though how he got
there I cannot conceive, and Ward and Dennison were in the front row.
We sang as we walked, and people cleared out of our way. I heard one
man who met us say "Poor fools!" and the fellow who was with him
answered "We did that kind of thing years ago, didn't we?" Outside The
St. John's we came to a dead stop, and the men in front of me began
arguing with an enormous man who stood at the entrance.

"No one else is to be admitted to-night," I heard the giant say.

"But it is not closing time," some one answered.

"These are my orders, gentlemen," he said, and it was really rather
nice of him to address us as he did.

Ward did not say a word, but tried quite amicably to get past the
giant. It was a kind of Goliath and David business anyhow, but
whatever chance