"Why, my jolly old brick of an uncle gave me five shillings when he heard I was coming here." "I wish he was _my_ uncle," sighed Walter, whose parents were very poor. "But I say, Chris, is this the way to the panorama?" "No, but I'm thirsty. I'm going into the palace to get a glass of beer. You can go on to the panorama if you're so anxious about it." But Walter was far too much afraid of getting lost among the crowds of people in the "thundering big garden" to part from his companion. He had never been more than ten miles from his native village until to-day, and he felt quite bewildered at all the strange sights and sounds. He followed Chris, who proceeded to a refreshment counter, and asked for beer. "We don't sell wine or beer, or anything of the sort, sir," was the answer. "It's against the rules of the palace, and we've no licence." Nothing made Chris so savage as to be thwarted in anything he wanted to do. "Then it's a stupid place, and it ought to be ashamed of itself," he said angrily; "but if I can't get it here, I'll go where I can." He turned on his heel and walked quickly away, followed by the much-vexed Walter. In vain did he ask Chris where he was going, and what he meant to do--not a word could he extract. The other lad stalked on, looking every now and then at the printed directions on the walls, telling whither each turning led. He reached a sort of entrance-place at last, where there were the same kind of turnstiles as those through which Mr. Richardson had brought his party in the morning. "Way out" was written above one. Without a word to his companion, Chris went through it. "But, Chris, that takes us outside. What _are_ you doing?" cried Walter. "I know what I'm about," answered the other. "Are you coming or not I? I can't wait all day. You'll never find your way back to the others alone. You'd a deal better stick to me that knows the way." Walter looked round despairingly. "What shall I do?" he said to himself. "I _wish_ I hadn't come with Chris. He's so cross and disagreeable, it's no fun to be with him; but I could no more find my way back through all those twists and turns than fly. I suppose I must keep with him now," and he went through the turnstile and caught up his friend, who had grown tired of waiting and had gone on some way. "Oh, you've come, have you?" said he, as Walter came running up. "I thought you liked best wandering about all proper and lonely inside that fine place you seem so fond of." Walter made no reply, but walked by the side of his companion, who marched along as if he knew very well what he wanted, and meant to have it. At length they came to a street corner, where they saw written up, "Crystal Palace Arms." "Now, here's just the place for me," cried Chris, pushing the door open and going in. Walter, though he felt more uncomfortable than ever, saw no choice but to follow.