inity, offered the journal,
which he had long finished, to Glastonbury, and it was declined, the
general alarm visibly diminished. Poor Mr. Glastonbury had never looked
into a newspaper in his life, save the County Chronicle, to which he
occasionally contributed a communication, giving an account of the
digging up of some old coins, signed Antiquarius; or of the exhumation
of some fossil remains, to which he more boldly appended his initials.

In spite of the strange clatter in the streets, Ferdinand slept
well, and the next morning, after an early breakfast, himself and his
fellow-traveller set out on their peregrinations. Young and sanguine,
full of health and enjoyment, innocent and happy, it was with difficulty
that Ferdinand could restrain his spirits as he mingled in the bustle
of the streets. It was a bright sunny morning, and although the end of
June, the town was yet quite full.

'Is this Charing Cross, sir? I wonder if we shall ever be able to get
over. Is this the fullest part of the town, sir? What a fine day, sir!
How lucky we are in the weather! We are lucky in everything! Whose house
is that? Northumberland House! Is it the Duke of Northumberland's? Does
he live there? How I should like to see it! Is it very fine? Who is
that? What is this? The Admiralty; oh! let me see the Admiralty! The
Horse Guards! Oh! where, where? Let us set our watches by the Horse
Guards. The guard of our coach always sets his watch by the Horse
Guards. Mr. Glastonbury, which is the best clock, the Horse Guards, or
St. Paul's? Is that the Treasury? Can we go in? That is Downing Street,
is it? I never heard of Downing Street. What do they do in Downing
Street? Is this Charing Cross still, or is it Parliament Street? Where
does Charing Cross end, and where does Parliament Street begin? By Jove,
I see Westminster Abbey!'

After visiting Westminster Abbey and the two Houses of Parliament, Mr.
Glastonbury, looking at his watch, said it was now time to call upon
a friend of his who lived in St. James's Square. This was the nobleman
with whom early in life Glastonbury had been connected, and with
whom and whose family he had become so great a favourite, that,
notwithstanding his retired life, they had never permitted the connexion
entirely to subside. During the very few visits which he had made to
the metropolis, he always called in St. James's Square and his reception
always assured him that his remembrance imparted pleasure.

When