somethin' jawin' about it by the hour together without a check, why, it's not _good_ enough, I'm hanged if it is! Well, I'm afraid I can't stay any longer--my time's valuable now, don't you know. I daresay yours is, too. I'm awfully glad to have had a chat with you, and all that. I expect you could tell me a lot more interestin' things, only of course you've got to keep the best of 'em to put in your book--you _are_ writin' a book or somethin', ain't you? Such heaps of fellows are writin' books nowadays, the wonder is how any of 'em get read. I shall try and get a look at yours, though, if I come across it anywhere; hope you'll put some amusin' things in,--nigger stories and that, don't make it too bally scientific, you know. Directly I get back, I shall sit down, slick off, and write off all you've told me. I shan't want any notes, I can carry it all in my head, and of course I shan't put in anything you'd rather I didn't, don't you know. The L. L. (_solemnly_). Mr. Jermyn, I place implicit confidence in your discretion. I have no doubt whatever that your head, Sir, is more than capable of containing such remarks as I have found it necessary to make in the course of our interview. I like your system of extracting information, Sir, very much. Good morning. Mr. J. (_outside_). Nice pleasant-spoken fellow--trifle long-winded, though! Gad, I was so busy listenin' I forgot to notice what his rooms were like or anythin'! How would it do to go back? No, too much of a grind. Daresay I can manage to fox up somethin'. I shall tell the Chief what he said about my system. Chief don't quite know what I _can_ do yet--this will open his eyes a bit. [_And it does._ [Illustration] SATURDAY NIGHT IN THE EDGWARE ROAD. _For over half-a-mile the pavement on the East side of the road is thronged with promenaders, and the curbstone lined with stalls and barrows, and hawkers of various wares. Marketing housewives with covered baskets oscillate undecidedly from stalls to shops, and put off purchasing to the last possible moment. Maids-of-all-work perambulate arm-in-arm, exchanging airy badinage with youths of their acquaintance, though the latter seem to prefer the society of their own sex. A man with a switchback skittle-board plays gloomy games by himself to an unspeculative group of small boys. The tradesmen stand outside their shops and conduct their business with a happy blend of the methods of a travelling showman and a clown._ BURLESQUE BUTCHER. Now then, all o' _you_ there! Buy, buy, buy! Just give yer minds to spendin' yer money! (_In a tone of artless wonder._) Where _does_ the Butcher git this _luverly_ meat? What can I do fur _you_ now, Marm? (_Triumphantly, after selling the scrag-end of a neck of mutton._) _Now_ we're busy! FARCICAL FISHMONGER (_with two Comic Assistants_). Ahar! (_To crowd._) Come 'ere, you silly young snorkers! I've the quali_tee_! I've the quali_tay_! _Keep_ takin' money!