The Struggle and Adventures of Christopher Tadpole ... With 26 etchings by J. Leech, and a biographical sketch of the author

Front matter

CHRISTOPHER TADPOLE s/tn^tiy^y^y^ c^y^yy?A><zy7?^^/ty?^ THE STRUGGLES AND ADVENTURES OF CHRISTOPHER TADPOLE BY ALBERT SMITH WITH 26 ETCHINGS BY JOHN LEECH And a Biographical Sketch of the Author LONDON DOWNEY & CO. Limited \2 York Street, Covent Garden TO MR. SERGEANT TALFOURD, M.P. My dear Sir, The kind manner in Avhich you have, more than once, spoken to me of my literary productions has been, I can assure you, my greatest encouragement during their progress. Not only on this account, however, but as a small mark of respect and esteem I feel towards you and your amiable family — to whom I am in debt for so much that is agreeable —I beg to dedicate this volume to you. And that its author may long enjoy the pleasure of your friendship is the sincere wish of Yours most faithfully, ALBERT SMITH.

CONTENTS. PAGE AUTHOR-S PEEFACE xiii BIOGKAPHICAL SKETCH XV THE PRELUDE : WHICH MUST BE RECOLLECTED TOWARDS THE END OF THE STORT 1 CHAP. I. OF THE GREAT SOIREE GIVEN AT THE PARTHENON . 16 II. MR. GUDGE REAPPEARS IN THE PROUD POSITION OF BEING ABLE TO DO THE PROPER THING ... 27 III. THE SALT MINE 35 IV. OF MR. GUDGE'S HOME, HIS CHAMBERS, AND HIS CLERK 44 V. THE FETE AT SIR FREDERICK ARDEN's — ALL SORTS OF WHEELS 56 VI. CHRISTOPHER PROCEEDS ON HIS JOURNEY ... 70 VII. CHRISTOPHER MAKES HIS FIRST APPEARANCE IN PUBLIC 74 VIII. MRS. HAMPER RETURNS IN STATE TO TOWN ... 86 IX. SPROUTS HAS A HOLIDAY 100 X. THE "RING O" BELLS" AT BIDSTON 108 XI. CHRISTOPHER FALLS INTO BAD COMPANY .... 116 XII. WHICH PRINCIPALLY CONCERNS SPROUTS AND BESSY PAYNE 123 XIII. A ROOKERY IN LIVERPOOL 139 XIV. MR. GUDGE THINKS OF TAKING A JOURNEY . . . 147 XV.

WHICH REVERTS TO DR. ASTON, SCIENCE, AND POPULA- TION CONTENTS PAGE XVI. MR. GUDGE PROCEEDS ON HIS JOURNEY, WHICH SPROUTS TAKES ADVANTAGE OF 168 XVII. SPROUTS GIVES A SOIREE 177 XVIII. CHRISTOPHER IS PREPARED FOR HIS NEW PLACE . . 185 XIX. THE STEWARD — SPROUTS TURNS TO LITERATURE . 191 XX. THE GUDGES PLUNGE INTO SOCIETY, WHICH MRS. HAMPER PARTICIPATES IN 207 XXI. THE DINNER PARTY DOES NOT IMPROVE .... 218 XXII. SIR FREDERICK MAKES A RESOLVE 225 XXIII. CHRISTOPHER IS ONCE MORE CARRIED AWAY . . . 230 XXIV. THE LITTLE MILLINERS RECEIVE THEIR FRIENDS . . 241 XXV. SOME DISTINGUISHED TRAVELLERS ARRIVE AT VENICE . 255 XXVI. SKITTLER MEETS ONE OF CHRISTOPHER'S EARLY FRIENDS 263 XXVII. MR. GUDGE HAS AN INTERVIEW WITH CHRISTOPHER . 280 XXVIII. MRS. HAMPER BECOMES THE HEROINE OF A FEARFUL ADVENTURE 286 XXIX.

Preface

. After sixteen months' communing Avith my friends, I hope they AAdll believe me when I say that it is not without regret I lay down my pen at the conclusion of this story. I began it in fear and trembling— doubting my power to sustain a con tinuous tale unaided by other attractions ; since the preAdous serials I had written had all been brought out in periodicals, Avherein was to be found as well, a sufficiency of good and popular names to keep my own afloat, had it become too heavy to swim by itself. But as I proceeded, I gained courage : it was thought advisable to extend the story beyond the intended number of parts ; and some of my acquaintances Avho read my book, began to speak of the characters as facts, until I firmly believed in them myself, and took as much interest in guiding their destinies as I would now fain hope the best-disposed of my readers did in following them. 1 will not conceal the feeling of having been much pleased during the progress of "Christopher Tadpole" by the flatter ing notices of his adventures which appeared, from time to time, in the London and provincial papers.

Having ever studiously avoided linking myself with any literary clique, and possessing but little, if indeed any, influence over the book-reviewing portion of the press, I need scarcely say that the monthly notices of my story by the gentlemen of that department were the more gratifying to me. I must add, before we part, that the time occupied in writing this serial has been connected with many of my most agreeable associations. New scenes were visited in this period, AUTHOR'S

PREFACE.

and new connections formed ; and it gives me the greatest pleasure to express my acknowledgments for many kindnesses to my friends at Liverpool who received me with such hospitality— to a gentleman at Northwich, who was courteous enough to let me go down the Marston Mine after the men had left off their work, although he did not then know my object — to an esteemed friend AAdth whom, in the coffee-room of the hotel at Chester, the first plan of the story was sketched out — and to my brother, whose good fellowship often kept up my spirits, when I fancied myself jaded and worn by the thousand troubles which compose together the anxious, restless existence of the literary man of the present day. ALBERT SMITH. Albert Smith was born at Chertsey on the 24th May, 1816. His father AA'as a surgeon in good country practise, and intended to bring up his son to the medical profession.

With this end in vieAv the youth was sent to Merchant Taylors' School, and the account of his scholastic experiences, how he was bullied and homesick, and how he finally ran away and found his way to London— all this has been narrated by him in "The Scatter good Family." Even in the boy the ruling passion began to develop itself. At the age of eleven he Avas noticed by a county paper as having, at a public dinner given to the member for Surrey, sung two songs in the style of Mathews, and delighted and astonished everybody present by his genius and versatility. From Merchant Taylors' he went to Middlesex Hospital, where he gained several prizes, and he continued his studies at the H6tel Dieu, Paris. On his return to England he practised with his father as a surgeon at Chertsey and went through all the melancholy drudgery of a country doctor's life, some pictures of which will be found in " Christopher Tadpole."

In the intervals of his work he commenced a series of papers called "Sketches in Paris." These he forwarded to Mr. Timbs, the editor of the Mirror, who accepted them for his periodical. He also wrote the " Confessions of Jasper Buddie, a Dissecting-Room Porter," into Avhich much of the experience gained in his hospital days was skilfully inter woven. In the year 1841, Albert Smith settled in London, determined to practise his profession, and, as an auxiliary arm in fighting the great battle of life, to ply his pen. But the pen was destined to become his most remunerative weapon. In March of the same year, he published in Bentley's Miscellany an article called "A Rencontre AAdth the Brigands," the truthfulness and smartness of which at once introduced him into literary society. Punch was just then starting, and instead of keeping it a close borough, as at present, its proprietors eagerly sought for all available talent.

Albert Smith became a constant and valued con tributor: in it he first published the "Physiology of the London Medical Student" and the "History of Evening Parties," which, in the form of a shilling volume, has since had a great success. The cacoethes scribendi was now fully developed: he wrote a melodrama called "Blanche Heriot," produced at the Surrey ; and soon afterwards he commenced in Bentley his first novel, "The Adventures of Mr. Led bury." What "PickAAdck" was to Dickens, "Ledbury" was to Albert Smith. Every one read it, and every one liked it : the story gave the magazine a swing, and the author was so high in Mr. Bentley's good graces that he wrote two other serial tales in succession for him, "The Scattergood Family" and "The Marchioness of Brin villiers "—besides innumerable sketches and feuilletons.

At this time, also, he wrote several extravaganzas for the Lyceum Theatre — "Aladdin," "Valen tine and Orson," " Cinderella," " Whittington and his Cat,'' etc., Avhich, owing partly to their intrinsic merits and partly to the admirable manner in which they were acted by the Keeleys, Mr. Frank Mathews, and Mr. Wigan, were extra ordinarily successful. He also adapted several of Mr. Dickens' books for the Lyceum Theatre. All notions of surgery were by this time abandoned and he had regularly settled doAvn into that being, so sneered at and detested by certain bilious critics of a new school — a "literary man." The organ of these self-sufficient pedants was not then in existence ; but even if it had been, I doubt Avhether its most venomous depreciation would have had the slightest effect upon Albert Smith, so great was his honest pride in his deserved success, so kind, genial, and equable was his temperament.

He had now become one of the most popular and prolific writers of the day : he was a constant contributor to Bentley's Miscellany ; he was the dramatic critic of the Illustrated London News. Either by himself, or in collaboration with Mr. Tom Taylor or Mr. Charles Kenney, he constantly had some burlesques in preparation ; he wrote by far the greater number of those humorous ballads which the AAondrous musical powers of his friend John Parry made so popular; and he was busy with a new novel, "Christopher Tadpole," his first attempt at a self-supporting monthly serial, the struggles of which he himself says, in a preface to a later edition :— '" Christopher Tadpole ' was the first of my literary off spring that ran upon its own legs. Up to its birth, my serial bantlings had enjoyed the assistance of Bentley's Mis cellany, as a sort of go-cart, by the aid of which they toddled on, relying on extraneous support— or rather, as a baby-jumper, the elastic components of which kept Mr. Led bury, Maria de Brinvilliers, and Clara Scattergood, whether they Avere dull or no, in constant activity.

But Christopher had to scramble on alone ; and after a good many raps and tumbles and scuffles generally, such as aAvait unfriended urchins ; and in spite of terrible supremacy, in the same play-ground, of a clever little boy named Dombey (av1io Avas a month younger, but Avho had— and deservedly— a great many advantages), Christopher's parts, at a shilling each, at last enabled him to grow up a good stout book, and see a large family of editions about him." About this time, also, he wrote the " Pottleton Legacy," a novel originally commenced as the feuilleton of the London Telegraph, a newspaper Avhich had a very short career ; and the story was afterwards continued and published in a separate form. While this work was still in progress, he proposed to Mr. Bogue, the publisher of Fleet Street, to write a series of Social Natural Histories, to be published at a shilling each, after the style of the Parisian Physiologies, with which he was familiar ; and Mr. Bogue agreeing, they started the series Avith "The Natural History of the Gent."

The success of the brochure was very great. The edition of two thousand was sold in one day, and the demand was tremendous. "The Ballet Girl," "The Idler upon Town," "Stuck-up People," and "The Flirt," folloAved in rapid succession, and all sold well, but none so well as " The Gent," for which the author was paid ten pounds, receiving one hundred for " The Flirt." And now, in conjunction with poor Angus Reach, then in the zenith of his short-lived powers, Albert Smith became editor of a little sixpenny monthly periodical, called the Man in the Moon, to Avhich all the young and rising light litterateurs of the day contributed, and which received the earliest efforts of many men whose names are now cele brated. Messrs. Tom Taylor, Shirley Brooks, Oxenford, Bouci cault, Charles Kenney, and the two editors, formed the regular staff.

There were many brilliant "outsiders" too, the best known among them being the late Mr. Robert Brough and Mr. G. A. Sala. Mr. Brough had but recently come up from Liverpool to try his fortune in London, and a BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF ALBERT SMITH was at once welcomed by the editors as a congenial spirit. He contributed to the literary columns, Avhile the pictorial department Avas placed entirely under his control ; and in his oavii rough Avood-cuts, and his suggestions to the artists, he displayed a fund of genuine humour. Mr. Sala has recorded his recollections of these days, and the feelings of friendship Avhich his connection Avith his editors engendered, in the following passage : — "Nearly fourteen years since, a sparkling little periodical, conducted by tAvo brilliant, clever, successful men, existed in London.

Many of the original contributors to that little sixpenny magazine are noAv famous wits or scholars of re noAvn. The writer of these lines, then a raAv lad, Avas em ployed in the humblest of artistic capacities on the Man in the Moon. Thus was the periodical called. Frequently he had to go to and fro, betAveen the residences of the two editors. Hoav well he remembers them ! One, he used to find in a first floor near the Strand. This one was a frank, bold young man, pacing up and down his room, casting the tangled locks off that broad forehead of his, laughing, chatting about last night's Parliament, and last night's opera, and last night's farce, and last night's supper : he had been to all — but working, working, working, for ever working from morning to night. " And the other ! He Avas visible in a parlour in Percy Street — a parlour literally crammed with books and papers and pictures and quaint nicknacks.

He had just ten or fifteen or twenty minutes to gossip with you — that Avas all. Then he must resume his copy for the News or for the ' Vir Luna,' or for BentUy, or his burlesque, or his farce, or his shilling ' Physiologie ' for Bogue, or his ballad, or his joke. He, too, was working, and always at work. . . . The first of these men was Angus Bethune Reach. The second was Albert Smith." Albert Smith's '"connection Avith the Man in the Moon continued until the autumn of 1849, Avhen he gave it up, to proceed on a long-hoped-for tour to Constantinople and the East, comprising an ascent of the Nile as far as Cairo, and on his return he published his " Month in Constanti nople," the first of his Avorks in which he proved himself possessed of much greater poAvers than were needed for mere comic writing.

Shortly afterwards he made his first appear ance before the public, at Willis's Rooms, in an entertainment Avritten by himself, called "The Overland Mail," descriptive of the overland route to India, relieved by sketches of character and "patter" songs, and illustrated by Mr. Beverley, Avhose fame Avas then daAvning. With all his literary popularity, Mr. Smith was comparatively unknoAvn to the bulk of the British public ; and his entertainment, though allowed by all judges to be very good, was not particularly successful in London ; but in the provinces it was specially A\*ell received, and commanded excellent audi ences. In the autumn of 1851, Albert Smith made the "ascent of Mont Blanc," which he has so graphically and Avith so much feeling described; and on the 15th March, 1852, he produced, at the Egyptian Hall, an entertainment descriptive of the ascent, and of Anglo-Continental life generally, which, as every one knows, took the world by storm, and became the most popular exhibition of the kind ever knoAvn.

From that time until the summer of 1858, Avith the exception of a six-weeks' holiday every autumn (invariably devoted to a visit to Chamounix), he continued his career of success, altering his route of approach every year, giving his sketches of character, and the illustrations by Mr. Beverley, but ahvays keeping Mont Blanc as the central point of attraction. Throughout all this period, all the care of management Avas entrusted by him to his brother, Mr. Arthur Smith, whose skill and energy in such matters was only to be exceeded by his fraternal devotion. At length, although his hall was still excellently filled, he felt some change of subject was necessary both for his audience and himself, and he cast about for some topic for verbal and pictorial illustration. At one time he thought of the Alhambra, and we had projected a tour thither to gether ; but finally he determined on visiting China, and accordingly started for Hong Kong in July, 1858.

A rough sketch of his adventures Avas published in his " Diary to China and Back." He returned in the following November, full of health and spirits, and apparently none the worse for his trip ; and very shortly afterwards he commenced a neAv entertainment under the title " China," the popularity of which, though never rivalling its predecessor, was far beyond any thing of a similar kind. This entertainment continued until the end of the following July, when Albert Smith was married to Miss Mary Keeley, eldest daughter of Mr. Robert Keeley, the celebrated comedian, between whom and himself a long attachment had existed. After two months' holiday he returned to London and renewed the "China" entertainment ; his success was repeated, and he Avas in the height of a XX fame and happiness, when, on the day before last Christmas Eve [1859], he was seized with a fit, a curious combination of epilepsy and apoplexy, and prostrated for some three weeks.

He recovered and resumed his Avork ; but there is no doubt that from that period to the day of his death he Mras a perfectly changed man. Friends blamed his too-speedy resumption of his vocation, but those who kneAv him inti mately felt that Avork with him was life, and that he Avould perhaps even more speedily have fretted out his existence in passive quietude. His constitution, however, was ob\*iously undermined : he lost that tremendous flow of animal spirits which had always characterized him ; and he Avas unable to cope Avith an attack Avhich in bygone years he would probably have triumphantly repelled. Still, not even his most intimate friends imagined that they would have so speedily to deplore his loss, nor, in all probability, would they have had to do so, had it not been for that fatal disregard of his own health, to which an iron constitution and a life perfectly free from illness had accustomed him.

On Saturday, 12th May, though suffering from cold, he walked from the Egyptian Hall, after giving his entertainment, through a pouring rain, to the Garrick Club. On arriving there he was wet to the skin ; but, instead of returning home, he sat down before a fire and dried his clothes, without removing them. An attack of bronchitis immediately set in, and increased in violence as the week progressed ; he was compelled to omit the songs in his enter tainment, and he would not abandon his work to call in medical aid. On Monday, the 21st, he Avas so prostrated that his doctor positively forbade his attempting to lecture, and with great reluctance he suffered an apologetic note to be issued. The congestion of the lungs had increased in violence, and on the next day Dr. Burroughes was called in ; but it was too late.

On Tuesday the poor patient became insensible. He continued in that state throughout the night ; and at half -past eight on Wednesday evening, the 23rd May,1 Avhile all London was making busy preparation for the great national holiday, the " Derby Day," Albert Smith, all peace fully and calmly, breathed his last, in the presence of his wife, his brother, and an intimate medical friend. He Avas buried on the following Saturday in Brompton Cemetery, in the grave Avhere, three years before, his father had been interred. The mourners were his brother Mr. Arthur Smith, his father-in-law, Mr. Keeley, and his 1 1860. executor, Mr. Arthur Pratt Barlow ; while the only other friends present were Mr. R. T. Lane, A.R.A., and myself. It was our poor friend's constantly-expressed wish that his funeral should be of the simplest and most private character ; and it was strictly attended to.

Albert Smith was essentially a man of the time : his loss has created a gap in Society Avhich Avill probably never be filled up, because previously Society never knew the A*oid, and has had no one groAving up to fill it. With our writers, with our painters, with our actors, this is different. In every line, where someone in particular is pre-eminent, a disciple or an imitator is following in his footsteps, and eventually suc ceeds to the first position ; but in the present case this is impossible, for no person possessing one tithe of Albert Smith's literary ability, knowledge of the world, or social status. is now before the public. What has been often said of our best actors was perfectly true of him : that his public repre sentations Avere not acting, but merely a reproduction of his OAvn priA'ate sentiments and opinion.

This was essentially the case Avith Albert Smith, the charm of Avhose entertainments lay in the novel and candid exposition of patent but hitherto unproclaimed shams, and who, throughout his public career, knew no reticence when petty abuses could be un veiled, and miserable humbug made a butt of. No man truckled so little to the whims aud fancies of his audience. He liA-ed to please, certainly ; but if he pleased to liA*e, it was entirely by his own talents, and not by any bending to the will of his patrons. The rules of his little kingdom were those of the Medes and Persians. He was the servant of the public and not of any particular class ; or rather, he was the servant of nobody. His entertainment was based on the strictest rules of demand and supply as understood by Ricardo and Stuart Mill : his audience wanted amusement, and he gave it to them — he wanted money, and they paid him : at the end of two hours there was no obligation on either side.

Thus, in its utmost rigour he understood it, and carried it out. Punctuality Avas, he imagined, especially due from him and the public. As the clock struck eight he appeared upon his little platform ; and the arrival of any stall-holder, no matter how aristocratic, after the entertainment had begun, produced a noticeable silence on the part of the entertainer, even if it escaped a more public rebuke. No man eA'er more strongly ridiculed the ultra-Radiealisni of certain of his friends who could not find virtue in clean linen, or honesty out of fustian trousers : but none have ever borne BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF ALBERT SMITH themselves more uprightly without giving heed to patronage or pandering to "sAvelldom." It Avas in private life and in the intimate relations of private friendship that he showed to the greatest advantage.

Very few men have had so many Avarm acquaintances. The openness of his disposition and the freedom of his manner often misled people as to their real position in his regard ; and some were consequently much surprised when circumstances would bring them to their level, they found requests— which only the strictest intimacy Avould have justified— Avere not responded to. He was himself so punctiliously honourable in all money matters— he had such a horror of debt and its accompanying exigencies (at his outset in London he lived upon 21. a week, and throughout his life never oAved a single farthing), — that the blunt manner in AA'hich he invariably refused any attempt upon his purse Avhich he thought savoured of humbug, frequently caused him to be misrepre sented, and his character painted in anything but a true light.

But those who really knew him bear a widely different testimony. He Avas essentially kind-hearted, fulfilling his duty to his relatives with more than ordinary care and affection, and exercising a generous hospitality to his friends. There was perhaps never a man more thoroughly equable in his temperament — less influenced by either applause or abuse. His success always drew upon him the malevolence of those petty spirits who cannot bear to see others making progress in the race Avhile their oavu impotence or indolence keeps them back, and some few years since he Avas the constant mark for the unsavoury missiles of a few silly, self sufficient young men who mistook reckless blackguardism for British pluck, and coarse Billingsgate for expression of honest opinion. Some of Albert Smith's friends Avere very indignant at these bitter personal attacks, but upon the subject of them they made not the smallest effect, beyond occasionally creating a laugh at some preposterous mis-statement or exaggeration.

His death occurred in the prime of life, at a time when the sun of his fame and fortune had reached its meridian— at a time when he had begun to find the joys of a new existence in home and domesticity. Not ten days before his death, he was expressing to the writer of these lines his perfect happi ness in the tranquillity and repose of his home, his constant anxiety to get back to it, and his wonder that he had been able for so long to live a celibate and aimless life. Through out the entire Avinter he was engaged in adding to and ornamenting his house and grounds, building a conservatory, vinery, etc., and arranging the gardens according to his OAvn taste. The last Avords he spoke to the Avriter were : Avhen bidding him farewell iu a little arbour on his lawn, he said, *" When you come down next Aveek this place Avill'be lovely, for the pink may Avill then all be out," — and curiously enough, that pink may first showed its blossom on the day of his death.

What he sowed it was not permitted to him to reap : all that is mortal of him now " rests beneath the clover sod That drinks the sunshine and the rains.' Those avIio have been admitted to his inmost regard, knew him to be possessed of rarest qualities, such as Avill keep his memory green in their minds until they themselves are called aAA'ay. Edmund Yates. OF CHRISTOPHER TADPOLE THE PRELUDE: WHICH MUST BE RECOLLECTED TOWARDS THE END OF THE STORY. Rare old city of Chester! Even in these days of rocket-like travelling a man might fly all over Great Britain and Ireland, Avith an extra day ticket for BerAvick-upon-Tweed, before he saw anything half so fine as the mouldering old red sand-stones which form the walls and towers of that venerable place ; or looked upon anything half so fair as the prospect of vale and mountain, wooded headland and spire pointed plain, that surrounds it.

It is, in veriest sooth, a glorious relic of the early times, when the British Lion was a mere awkward cub, and the lady whom he protects — whose most authentic portraits we are now only acquainted with from the half-penny of infantile reward — had not even arrived at the fatal period of a certain age. You might almost conceive that it had stood the attacks of Time so long, as at last to disgust him altogether Avith the uselessness of his endeavours to destroy it, and that he had consequently gone away at some epoch far back in the darkness of the days of old, and never cared to come back again to the neighbourhood. For there are its old black beams and carved uneven gables — its quaint supports and discoloured panes of glass, quivering and blinking in the Avide rickety casements — its overhanging floors and rude, uneven steps and pavement, B just as they were when the History of England would scarcely have made a tract long enough to last the lounge round upon the city Avails, along Avhose Avhole extent the city huntsman once rode in ten minutes.

And there is its Cathedral, whose tower of corroded, ruddy masonry, appears, even in dull weather, to be glowing in a perpetual sunset, in the enjoyment of a calm old age. And the cloisters, whilst they teach a lesson on decay, have the same tranquil look, communicating their repose to the loiterer — harassed and heart-weary as he may be — in their still seclusion ; engendering hope and peace, and calling forth all the better feelings. The hum of the peopled city does not break the reigning quietude. The grass is fresh and green in the enclosure, and a few fragile climbing flowers wind their delicate stems about the worn fretwork, and nestle in the indentations of the tracery as the shadows of their leaves tremble in the patches of light that fall pleasantly upon the gravestones and pavement below.

A marvellous city too is commercial, every-day, common place Chester ; the passenger's footway lies right through the first floor fronts of the houses, and great is the puzzle of the stranger as to whether the road-Avay is doAvn in the cellar, or he is upstairs on the landing, or the house has turned itself out of window, affording a literal proof of that curious state of domestic affairs so often spoken of. And first he fancies the "Row"— as it is termed — is like the Quadrant, with the road excavated a floor lower, and shops made under the pavement; and then it reminds him of a Thames-side tavern, with all the shutter wainscots, that divides the large convivial room into so many little philandering ones, drawn away, and the windows knocked out. And, finally, he arrives at the conclusion that there is nothing else in the world at all like it.