TRIPT. Wheugh! I've done it! I don't know how, but done it I have. Talk of exploring the interior of Africa! pooh! that's a joke to the inside of a chimney! (_wiping his face with his handkerchief--shaking his coat, &c._) Well, if this is the hospitality that the Metropolis offers to a youthful and inoffensive chemist and druggist, I shan't avail myself of it again in a hurry. I left Cambridge for London this morning, in consequence of a telegraphic message I received from my uncle, Cockletop, grocer and cheesemonger--to catch the train, I lost my breakfast; the only available refreshment was a cigar and box of lozenges; under the influence of these exhilirating sweetmeats, I soon found myself at the abode of my aforesaid uncle Cockletop, who, on my taking a chair on a Cheshire cheese, at once informed me that his motive in telegraphing for me, was to unite me in the bonds of wedlock with a certain Miss Caroline Bunny; his words literally transfixed me to my chair--my cheese I mean. I was about to tell him that the object of my unalterable affection was Phoebe Furbelow, when he cut me short by directing me to betake myself and carpet bag to No. 17, Compton-street, Soho--there it is-- (_pointing out of the window_) where he had secured me a small but airy back room, immediately under the tiles; telling me to make myself as smart as possible, in order that he might take me with him to a ball, which, it seems, the father of my _intended intended_ is to give this evening. I promised implicit obedience, and proved it, by starting off in the opposite direction for Cranbourne-alley, where Phoebe told me she pursued the art of bonnet-making. I found the shop, and was endeavouring to catch a glimpse of her beloved profile, when I suddenly received a terrific blow--from a foot--behind--which almost sent me head-first through the shop window. I turned round and found myself face to face with a ferocious looking individual, almost as tall as the lamp-post, and considerably stouter. (_mechanically wiping his face with the linen he takes out of the clothes basket, and blackening it_) Well, my first impulse was to come Tom Sayers over him, but it suddenly occurred to me that the brawny ruffian before me might be a husband and a father, I therefore spared him, and walked slowly away--as fast as my legs could carry me! but he overtook me at the door of my lodgings. How I got up three flights of stairs, I don't know; but I'd no sooner precipitated myself into my attic, and bolted the door, then a voice demanded instant admission. Instinctively I seized the poker, the poker reminded me of the fireplace, the fireplace of the chimney--away I flew--up the flue, and I was saved! (_wiping his face again with the clean linen, and blackening it_) I wonder if the bulky miscreant is still there? (_looking out at window_) I do declare he's actually lighted the fire! I see the smoke coming out of the chimney! Ecod!