kull of the
good man you are addressing. And yet we are far more clever there than
in any parish for fifteen miles.

But what moved me most, when I saw again the noble oil and tallow of the
London lights, and the dripping torches at almost every corner, and
the handsome signboards, was the thought that here my Lorna lived, and
walked, and took the air, and perhaps thought now and then of the old
days in the good farm-house. Although I would make no approach to her,
any more than she had done to me (upon which grief I have not dwelt, for
fear of seeming selfish), yet there must be some large chance, or the
little chance might be enlarged, of falling in with the maiden somehow,
and learning how her mind was set. If against me, all should be over. I
was not the man to sigh and cry for love, like a Romeo: none should even
guess my grief, except my sister Annie.

But if Lorna loved me still--as in my heart of hearts I hoped--then
would I for no one care, except her own delicious self. Rank and title,
wealth and grandeur, all should go to the winds, before they scared me
from my own true love.

Thinking thus, I went to bed in the centre of London town, and was
bitten so grievously by creatures whose name is "legion," mad with the
delight of getting a wholesome farmer among them, that verily I was
ashamed to walk in the courtly parts of the town next day, having lumps
upon my face of the size of a pickling walnut. The landlord said that
this was nothing; and that he expected, in two days at the utmost,
a very fresh young Irishman, for whom they would all forsake me.
Nevertheless, I declined to wait, unless he could find me a hayrick to
sleep in; for the insects of grass only tickle. He assured me that no
hayrick could now be found in London; upon which I was forced to leave
him, and with mutual esteem we parted.

The next night I had better luck, being introduced to a decent widow, of
very high Scotch origin. That house was swept and garnished so, that
not a bit was left to eat, for either man or insect. The change of air
having made me hungry, I wanted something after supper; being quite
ready to pay for it, and showing my purse as a symptom. But the face of
Widow MacAlister, when I proposed to have some more food, was a thing to
be drawn (if it could be drawn further) by our new caricaturist.

Therefore I left her also; for liefer would I be eaten myself than have
nothing to eat; and so I came back to my old furrier; th