After a long and stormy passage of nineteen days, during which Barnum entertained the passengers with choice samples of practical jokes, the packet _Yorkshire_ arrived at Liverpool. A crowd was waiting on the docks to look at General Tom Thumb, for it had been announced that he would arrive on the _Yorkshire_, and the fame of his popularity in America had spread to England even before Barnum had decided on the venture abroad. But Mrs. Stratton managed to smuggle her little treasure ashore without attracting notice. For the first time in his life as a showman, except in the early days of his struggle for opportunities, Barnum was deeply depressed at his prospects. After he had been in Liverpool only a few days, disheartening and panicky sensations overcame his natural exuberance. He was among strangers, and he was homesick; everything appeared different, and the foreign atmosphere took on the shape of a ghostly hostility in Barnum’s mind. He tells us that as the boat was leaving the dock in New York, he was in “the melting mood,” and soon after his arrival in Liverpool this thirty-three-year-old showman, whose reputation for bold enterprise had already spread throughout a large part of the United States, sat down in his dismal hotel room and had a good cry. The cause of this dejection was doubt of his ability to succeed in different surroundings, and regret that he had so hastily made the attempt. These in turn were caused by several encounters and predictions of his first days in England. The proprietor of a Liverpool waxworks called at the hotel; he had heard of the arrival of General Tom Thumb, and he was anxious to add this unique curiosity to his collection of waxworks at ten dollars per week for both the curiosity and the manager. Soon afterwards Madame Céleste, who was performing at the Theater Royal in Williamson Square, presented her compliments to Mr. Barnum and invited him to use her private box. In the box adjoining were a dignified lady and gentleman, who looked with approval at General Tom Thumb, partly hidden from the audience by his tutor’s cloak. They became interested in the General as soon as they learned who he was and urged Barnum to exhibit him in Manchester, where they lived. Barnum asked how much they thought he could charge for admission in Manchester, and the lady answered that since the General was such a decided curiosity, she thought twopence for each person would not be too much. But her husband cried nonsense, remarked that women knew nothing of such things, and assured Barnum that one penny was the usual price for seeing giants and dwarfs in England, and that the public would never pay more. It was this conversation more than anything else that caused Barnum to wish he were in New York, where admission was twenty-five cents, children half-price, and he swore solemnly to himself that General Tom Thumb should never be seen for less than a shilling a head.