Mr. Sandboys, however, was not to be deterred; and, entering the establishment, he sought for some one whose face he might remember having seen on his previous visit. The head waiter no sooner entered the coffee-room in answer to his summons, than he recognised the face of the old attendant, and besought him to recommend him to _some_ place where he might obtain a bed for a night or two at the least. The only place that the waiter knew, as promising the remotest chance of accommodation, was at the residence of a lady who, he was informed, had been recently extending the conveniences of her establishment; and then, handing to Mr. Sandboys the lodging-housekeeper’s address, he whisked his napkin under his arm, and, pulling his front hair, departed with all the elegance of a head-waiter at an old-fashioned establishment. [Illustration: LONDON, in 1851. ] Arrived at the residence of the lady indicated by the gentleman who superintended the supply of provisions to the inmates of the Bull and Mouth, Mr. and Mrs. Sandboys were asked to step into the passage (the lady apologizing for the parlours being both full), and there Mrs. Fokesell, whose husband, she was happy to say, was at sea, informed them, to their great horror, that she had only one hammock left unoccupied; and if the lady and gentleman thought they could make shift in that until such time as they could meet with anything better, why it was at their service for five shillings a night. The young lady and the female servant Mrs. Fokesell might perhaps accommodate in her bed, and if the footman wouldn’t mind lying on the knife-board, and the young gentleman thought he could pass the night comfortably on the top of the grand piano, why she would do everything in her power to make them comfortable. [Illustration: MANCHESTER in 1851. ] Mr. and Mrs. Sandboys said that, under the circumstances, they must consent to avail themselves of whatever they could get; whereupon the landlady politely informed them, that if they would follow her down stairs, she would show them the only apartment she had to spare. But, as she was about to descend, a loud single knock was given at the street door, and, begging their indulgence for a minute, she returned to the passage to ascertain the business of the new-comer. On answering the knock, she found that it was merely the coal-merchant, who wished to be informed when she would like to have in “them there coals as she ordered.” Mrs. Fokesell hastily told the man, that if they weren’t delivered the first thing in the morning, there wouldn’t be a bit of fire to “bile the dozen pots of shaving-water as was wanted by eight o’clock for her lodgers.”