gest of the Romans, according to strict interpretation
signifieth a little child.

So I left the bridge, retracing my steps for a considerable way, as I
thought I had seen enough in the direction in which I had hitherto been
wandering; I should say that I scarcely walked less than thirty miles
about the big city on the day of my first arrival. Night came on, but
still I was walking about, my eyes wide open, and admiring everything
that presented itself to them. Everything was new to me, for everything
is different in London from what it is elsewhere--the people, their
language, the horses, the _tout ensemble_--even the stones of London are
different from others--at least it appeared to me that I had never walked
with the same ease and facility on the flagstones of a country town as on
those of London; so I continued roving about till night came on, and then
the splendour of some of the shops particularly struck me. 'A regular
Arabian Nights entertainment!' said I, as I looked into one on Cornhill,
gorgeous with precious merchandise, and lighted up with lustres, the rays
of which were reflected from a hundred mirrors.

But, notwithstanding the excellence of the London pavement, I began about
nine o'clock to feel myself thoroughly tired; painfully and slowly did I
drag my feet along. I also felt very much in want of some refreshment,
and I remembered that since breakfast I had taken nothing. I was now in
the Strand, and, glancing about, I perceived that I was close by an
hotel, which bore over the door the somewhat remarkable name of Holy
Lands. Without a moment's hesitation I entered a well-lighted passage,
and, turning to the left, I found myself in a well-lighted coffee-room,
with a well-dressed and frizzled waiter before me. 'Bring me some
claret,' said I, for I was rather faint than hungry, and I felt ashamed
to give a humbler order to so well-dressed an individual. The waiter
looked at me for a moment; then, making a low bow, he bustled off, and I
sat myself down in the box nearest to the window. Presently the waiter
returned, bearing beneath his left arm a long bottle, and between the
fingers of his right hand two large purple glasses; placing the latter on
the table, he produced a corkscrew, drew the cork in a twinkling, set the
bottle down before me with a bang, and then, standing still, appeared to
watch my movements. You think I don't know how to drink a glass of
claret, thought I to myself. I'll soo