At the station, all was confusion and bustle, and noise and scrambling, and bewilderment. Porters in green velveteen jackets, with the shoulders worn white with repeated loads, were hurrying to and fro—some with carpet-bags in their hands—others with boxes on small-wheeled trucks, rattling over the flooring through the office. Impatient groups were gathered close round the pay-clerk—steam-engines, eager to start, were fizzing violently, as if a thousand knives were being ground at once—and large bells were ringing quickly to announce the arrival of some train which presently came bumping heavily alongside the station. Mrs. Sandboys had pursued some porter who, much to her astonishment and indignation, had, without a word, walked away with the united luggage of the family, immediately on its being deposited outside the station door; while Mr. Sandboys himself had gone to learn how he and his party were to proceed. “Where are you going to?” rapidly inquired the good-tempered and bustling station-master, as he squinted at the clock. “T’ Bull and Mouth, Holborn Hill, London,” answered Mr. Cursty Sandboys, giving the whole address of his proposed resting-place in the metropolis. “Don’t know any Bull and Mouth at Holborn Hill,” replied the busy official, who, called off by the guard, had not caught the last word of Mr. Sandboys’ answer. “Dustea say tha dunnet ken t’ Bull an’ Mouth,” exclaimed the anxious Cursty, lifting up his bushy eyebrows with evident astonishment. “I thowt aw t’ warl was kenning t’ Bull an’ Mouth, Holborn Hill.” Mr. Sandboys having, during his first and only visit to London (whither he had been summoned on a trial concerning the soundness of some cattle that he had sold to one of the dealers who yearly visited Buttermere), resided with the rest of the witnesses for some ten days at the Bull and Mouth Inn, and knowing that it was a place of considerable reputation, could not help expressing his surprise that a person filling a situation which brought him into almost daily communication with the metropolis, should be unacquainted with one of the most celebrated of its public inns.