what the spies had said, I'd jist up and
say, 'Minister,' I'd say, 'it is a cussed oninglish, onmanly, niggerly
business, is this of pumpin', and spyin', and tattlin'. I don't like it
a bit. I'll have neither art nor part in it; I wash my hands clear of
it. It will jist break the spirit of my people. So, minister look here.
The next report that is brought to me of a spy, I'll whip his tongue out
and whop your ear off, or my name ain't Queen. So jist mind what I say;
first spy pokes his nose into your office, chop it off and clap it up
over Temple Bar, where they puts the heads of traitors and write these
words over, with your own fist, that they may know the handwritin', and
not mistake the meanin', _This is the nose of a Spy_."

CHAPTER II. THE PATRON; OR, THE COW'S TAIL.

Nothing is so fatiguing as sight-seeing. The number and variety of
objects to which your attention is called, and the rapid succession in
which they pass in review, at once wearies and perplexes the mind; and
unless you take notes to refresh your memory, you are apt to find you
carry away with you but an imperfect and indistinct recollection.

Yesterday was devoted to an inspection of the Tunnel and an
examination of the Tower, two things that ought always to be viewed
in juxta-position; one being the greatest evidence of the science and
wealth of modern times; and the other of the power and pomp of our
forefathers.

It is a long time before a stranger can fully appreciate the extent
of population and wealth of this vast metropolis. At first, he is
astonished and confused; his vision is indistinct. By degrees he begins
to understand its localities, the ground plan becomes intelligible and
he can take it all in at a view. The map is a large one; it is a chart
of the world. He knows the capes and the bays; he has sailed round them,
and knows their relative distance, and at last becomes aware of the
magnitude of the whole. Object after object becomes more familiar. He
can estimate the population; he compares the amount of it with that
of countries that he is acquainted with, and finds that this one town
contains within it nearly as great a number of souls as all British
North America. He estimates the incomes of the inhabitants, and finds
figures almost inadequate to express the amount. He asks for the
sources from whence it is derived. He resorts to his maxims of political
economy, and they cannot inform him. He calculates the number of acres