inquisitive novice. But as a description of all of them, however
slight, would require a volume, the contents of which, however
instructive, would be by no means pleasing, we make our bow, and
drop the curtain.



CHAPTER III--SHOPS AND THEIR TENANTS



What inexhaustible food for speculation, do the streets of London
afford! We never were able to agree with Sterne in pitying the man
who could travel from Dan to Beersheba, and say that all was
barren; we have not the slightest commiseration for the man who can
take up his hat and stick, and walk from Covent-garden to St.
Paul's Churchyard, and back into the bargain, without deriving some
amusement--we had almost said instruction--from his perambulation.
And yet there are such beings: we meet them every day. Large
black stocks and light waistcoats, jet canes and discontented
countenances, are the characteristics of the race; other people
brush quickly by you, steadily plodding on to business, or
cheerfully running after pleasure. These men linger listlessly
past, looking as happy and animated as a policeman on duty.
Nothing seems to make an impression on their minds: nothing short
of being knocked down by a porter, or run over by a cab, will
disturb their equanimity. You will meet them on a fine day in any
of the leading thoroughfares: peep through the window of a west-
end cigar shop in the evening, if you can manage to get a glimpse
between the blue curtains which intercept the vulgar gaze, and you