lliers was placed in contact with a Chinese outlaw.
What gave me the most trouble and annoyance was the publisher's
remembering some life or trial, foreign or domestic, which he wished to
be inserted, and which I was forthwith to go in quest of and purchase at
my own expense: some of those lives and trials were by no means easy to
find. 'Where is Brandt and Struensee?' cries the publisher; 'I am sure I
don't know,' I replied; whereupon the publisher falls to squealing like
one of Joey's rats. 'Find me up Brandt and Struensee by next morning,
or--' 'Have you found Brandt and Struensee?' cried the publisher, on my
appearing before him next morning. 'No,' I reply, 'I can hear nothing
about them'; whereupon the publisher falls to bellowing like Joey's bull.
By dint of incredible diligence, I at length discover the dingy volume
containing the lives and trials of the celebrated two who had brooded
treason dangerous to the state of Denmark. I purchase the dingy volume,
and bring it in triumph to the publisher, the perspiration running down
my brow. The publisher takes the dingy volume in his hand, he examines
it attentively, then puts it down; his countenance is calm for a moment,
almost benign. Another moment and there is a gleam in the publisher's
sinister eye; he snatches up the paper containing the names of the
worthies which I have intended shall figure in the forthcoming
volumes--he glances rapidly over it, and his countenance once more
assumes a terrific expression. 'How is this?' he exclaims; 'I can
scarcely believe my eyes--the most important life and trial omitted to be
found in the whole criminal record--what gross, what utter negligence!
Where's the life of Farmer Patch? where's the trial of Yeoman Patch?'

'What a life! what a dog's life!' I would frequently exclaim, after
escaping from the presence of the publisher.

One day, after a scene with the publisher similar to that which I have
described above, I found myself about noon at the bottom of Oxford
Street, where it forms a right angle with the road which leads or did
lead to Tottenham Court. Happening to cast my eyes around, it suddenly
occurred to me that something uncommon was expected; people were standing
in groups on the pavement--the upstair windows of the houses were
thronged with faces, especially those of women, and many of the shops
were partly, and not a few entirely, closed. What could be the reason of
all this? All at once I bethought