present moment under a cloud, and that it would be inconvenient to him
to liquidate his score just then, though, of course, if Bowley insists,
&c. While Bowley is pausing to consider which will be the best way to
insist, Mr Nogoe carelessly leads the conversation to another topic, and
begins to descant upon the marvellous capabilities of the 'Mother
Bunch' for doing a first-rate trade; and hints mysteriously at the
splendid thing that might be made of it, only supposing that his friend
Bowley knew his own interest, and went the right way to work. The
landlord, who is now all ear, and who knows his own interest well
enough, pours out to his guest a glass of his favourite 'cold without,'
and seating himself opposite him at the little table, encourages him to
be more explicit. A long private and confidential conversation ensues,
the results of which are destined to change the aspect of affairs at the
'Mother Bunch.' We shall recount the process for the information of our
readers.

Next morning, Mr Bowley is altogether a new man; brisk, cheerful, and
active, he has a smile for everybody, and a joke and a 'good-morning'
even for the cobbler, who has the cure of soles in that very
questionable benefice, the Mews. He visits his tap-room guests, and
informs them of a plan which is in operation to improve the condition of
the labouring-classes, of which they will hear more by and by. He is
profoundly impressed with the sublime virtues of charity, benevolence,
brotherly love, and, as he terms it, all that sort of thing. Day after
day, he is seen in close confab with Mr Nogoe, who is now as busy as a
bee, buzzing about here, there, and everywhere, with rolls of paper in
his hand, a pen behind his ear, and another in his mouth, and who is
never absent an hour together from the 'Mother Bunch,' where he has a
private room much frequented by active, middle-aged persons of a rather
seedy cast, and where he takes all his meals at the landlord's table.