This reverie and dream business is all very well for awhile, but it cannot last, and the awakening is not pleasant. The good old town of Portsmouth, with its historical memories, the beautiful harbor filled with so much that is interesting, must be left for others to enjoy while we go back to London and resume the routine of sight seeing--that is, to draw it mildly, becoming just a trifle tiresome. One can have too much of even London. * * * * * On our return to London we met our old steamer friend, Tibbitts's Lemuel, of Oshkosh. He had been traveling in the North of England, and tiring of the smaller cities and the country, had returned to London to "do it." He was rather puffy in the cheeks and rather bleary about the eyes, which showed a season of not altogether strict adherence to the precepts of Father Matthew. He was overjoyed at seeing us, as men always are at seeing anybody of whom they want something. He was in trouble. "Look here," said Lemuel, "you are a good fellow, now, and I know you will help me out. You see I came over for improvement and experience, and to enlarge my mind, and all that sort of thing, and the old gentleman insisted that I should keep a diary, and note down _my_ impressions of scenery, and industries, and modes of living, and all that, and send it to him regularly, and I _must_ do it, or he will cut off the supplies, and bring me home." "Well, that is easy enough. You have done it? You have kept a diary?" "Yes, a sort of a diary. You see there were four of us in the party, devilish good fellows, one from Chicago, and two from New York, and we went to a lot of places, and saw a great deal, and I wrote in my memorandum book every day, but it was certainly the last thing I did before going to bed, about four o'clock in the morning, or a little later. What the old gentleman wanted was not only an account of all this rot, but _my_ impression of the places, to develop me. You understand?" [Illustration: THE UNFINISHED ENTRIES IN THE DIARY.] "Yes; and a good idea it is. Did you write down your impressions of the places you visited?" "Well, yes; but I am afraid they won't satisfy father. He is mighty particular, and awful sharp." "Will you let me see your memorandum book?" [Sidenote: TIBBITTS' DIARY.] He handed it to me, and these are some of the entries, which were, no doubt, written at four in the morning, the last thing before getting into bed; and they were, unquestionably, _his_ impressions. I select a few at random, these few being excellent samples of the whole lot:-- _Leeds_--Manufacturing city--Beer very bad--Scotch whisky tolerable, though I never liked it cold. _Birmingham_--Manufacturing city--Beer bad--Not equal to our lager--No good beer in England--Stout rather better--Went in on stout. _Manchester_--Good bottle beer--Draft beer bad--All draft--(This sentence was not finished, probably for reasons. He explained that that night he slept in his boots.)