sixpence）；　condescend　a　little；　as　they　drowsily　bide　or　recall
  their　turn　for　chasing　the　ebbing　Neptune　on　the　ribbed　sea…sand。
  From　Messrs。　Hunt　and　Roskell's；　the　jewellers；　all　things　are
  absent　but　the　precious　stones；　and　the　gold　and　silver；　and　the
  soldierly　pensioner　at　the　door　with　his　decorated　breast。　　I　might
  stand　night　and　day　for　a　month　to　come；　in　Saville…row；　with　my
  tongue　out；　yet　not　find　a　doctor　to　look　at　it　for　love　or　money。
  The　dentists'　instruments　are　rusting　in　their　drawers；　and　their
  horrible　cool　parlours；　where　people　pretend　to　read　the　Every…Day
  Book　and　not　to　be　afraid；　are　doing　penance　for　their　grimness　in
  white　sheets。　　The　light…weight　of　shrewd　appearance；　with　one　eye
  always　shut　up；　as　if　he　were　eating　a　sharp　gooseberry　in　all
  seasons；　who　usually　stands　at　the　gateway　of　the　livery…stables　on
  very　little　legs　under　a　very　large　waistcoat；　has　gone　to
  Doncaster。　　Of　such　undesigning　aspect　is　his　guileless　yard　now；
  with　its　gravel　and　scarlet　beans；　and　the　yellow　Break　housed
  under　a　glass　roof　in　a　corner；　that　I　almost　believe　I　could　not
  be　taken　in　there；　if　I　tried。　　In　the　places　of　business　of　the
  great　tailors；　the　cheval…glasses　are　dim　and　dusty　for　lack　of
  being　looked　into。　　Ranges　of　brown　paper　coat　and　waistcoat　bodies
  look　as　funereal　as　if　they　were　the　hatchments　of　the　customers
  with　whose　names　they　are　inscribed；　the　measuring　tapes　hang　idle
  on　the　wall；　the　order…taker；　left　on　the　hopeless　chance　of　some
  one　looking　in；　yawns　in　the　last　extremity　over　the　book　of
  patterns；　as　if　he　were　trying　to　read　that　entertaining　library。
  The　hotels　in　Brook…street　have　no　one　in　them；　and　the　staffs　of
  servants　stare　disconsolately　for　next　season　out　of　all　the
  windows。　　The　very　man　who　goes　about　like　an　erect　Turtle；　between
  two　boards　recommendatory　of　the　Sixteen　Shilling　Trousers；　is
  aware　of　himself　as　a　hollow　mockery；　and　eats　filberts　while　he
  leans　his　hinder　shell　against　a　wall。
  Among　these　tranquillising　objects；　it　is　my　delight　to　walk　and
  meditate。　　Soothed　by　the　repose　around　me；　I　wander　insensibly　to
  considerable　distances；　and　guide　myself　back　by　the　stars。　　Thus；
  I　enjoy　the　contrast　of　a　few　still　partially　inhabited　and　busy
  spots　where　all　the　lights　are　not　fled；　where　all　the　garlands　are
  not　dead；　whence　all　but　I　have　not　departed。　　Then；　does　it　appear
  to　me　that　in　this　age　three　things　are　clamorously　required　of　Man
  in　the　miscellaneous　thoroughfares　of　the　metropolis。　　Firstly；
  that　he　have　his　boots　cleaned。　　Secondly；　that　he　eat　a　penny　ice。
  Thirdly；　that　he　get　himself　photographed。　　Then　do　I　speculate；
  What　have　those　seam…worn　artists　been　who　stand　at　the　photograph
  doors　in　Greek　caps；　sample　in　hand；　and　mysteriously　salute　the
  public　…　the　female　public　with　a　pressing　tenderness　…　to　come　in
  and　be　'took'？　　What　did　they　do　with　their　greasy　blandishments；
  before　the　era　of　cheap　photography？　　Of　what　class　were　their
  previous　victims；　and　how　victimised？　　And　how　did　they　get；　and
  how　did　they　pay　for；　that　large　collection　of　likenesses；　all
  purporting　to　have　been　taken　inside；　with　the　taking　of　none　of
  which　had　that　establishment　any　more　to　do　than　with　the　taking　of
  Delhi？
  But；　these　are　small　oases；　and　I　am　soon　back　again　in
  metropolitan　Arcadia。　　It　is　my　impression　that　much　of　its　serene
  and　peaceful　character　is　attributable　to　the　absence　of　customary
  Talk。　　How　do　I　know　but　there　may　be　subtle　influences　in　Talk；　to
  vex　the　souls　of　men　who　don't　hear　it？　　How　do　I　know　but　that
  Talk；　five；　ten；　twenty　miles　off；　may　get　into　the　air　and
  disagree　with　me？　　If　I　rise　from　my　bed；　vaguely　troubled　and
  wearied　and　sick　of　my　life；　in　the　session　of　Parliament；　who
  shall　say　that　my　noble　friend；　my　right　reverend　friend；　my　right
  honourable　friend；　my　honourable　friend；　my　honourable　and　learned
  friend；　or　my　honourable　and　gallant　friend；　may　not　be　responsible
  for　that　effect　upon　my　nervous　system？　　Too　much　Ozone　in　the　air；
  I　am　informed　and　fully　believe　（though　I　have　no　idea　what　it　is）；
  would　affect　me　in　a　marvellously　disagreeable　way；　why　may　not　too
  much　Talk？　　I　don't　see　or　hear　the　Ozone；　I　don't　see　or　hear　the
  Talk。　　And　there　is　so　much　Talk；　so　much　too　much；　such　loud　cry；
  and　such　scant　supply　of　wool；　such　a　deal　of　fleecing；　and　so
  little　fleece！　　Hence；　in　the　Arcadian　season；　I　find　it　a
  delicious　triumph　to　walk　down　to　deserted　Westminster；　and　see　the
  Courts　shut　up；　to　walk　a　little　further　and　see　the　Two　Houses
  shut　up；　to　stand　in　the　Abbey　Yard；　like　the　New　Zealander　of　the
  grand　English　History　（concerning　which　unfortunate　man；　a　whole
  rookery　of　mares'　nests　is　generally　being　discovered）；　and　gloat
  upon　the　ruins　of　Talk。　　Returning　to　my　primitive　solitude　and
  lying　down　to　sleep；　my　grateful　heart　expands　with　the
  consciousness　that　there　is　no　adjourned　Debate；　no　ministerial
  explanation；　nobody　to　give　notice　of　intention　to　ask　the　noble
  Lord　at　the　head　of　her　Majesty's　Government　five…and…twenty
  bootless　questions　in　one；　no　term　time　with　legal　argument；　no
  Nisi　Prius　with　eloquent　appeal　to　British　Jury；　that　the　air　will
  to…morrow；　and　to…morrow；　and　to…morrow；　remain　untroubled　by　this
  superabundant　generating　of　Talk。　　In　a　minor　degree　it　is　a
  delicious　triumph　to　me　to　go　into　the　club；　and　see　the　carpets
  up；　and　the　Bores　and　the　other　dust　dispersed　to　the　four　winds。
  Again；　New　Zealander…like；　I　stand　on　the　cold　hearth；　and　say　in
  the　solitude；　'Here　I　watched　Bore　A　1；　with　voice　always
  mysteriously　low　and　head　always　mysteriously　drooped；　whispering
  political　secrets　into　the　ears　of　Adam's　confiding　children。
  Accursed　be　his　memory　for　ever　and　a　day！'
  But；　I　have　all　this　time　been　coming　to　the　point；　that　the　happy
  nature　of　my　retirement　is　most　sweetly　expressed　in　its　being　the
  abode　of　Love。　　It　is；　as　it　were；　an　inexpensive　Agapemone：
  nobody's　speculation：　　everybody's　profit。　　The　one　great　result　of
  the　resumption　of　primitive　habits；　and　（convertible　terms）　the　not
  having　much　to　do；　is；　the　abounding　of　Love。
  The　Klem　species　are　incapable　of　the　softer　emotions；　probably；　in
  that　low　nomadic　race；　the　softer　emotions　have　all　degenerated
  into　flue。　　But；　with　this　exception；　all　the　sharers　of　my　retreat
  make　love。
  I　have　mentioned　Saville…row。　　We　all　know　the　Doctor's　servant。
  We　all　know　what　a　respectable　man　he　is；　what　a　hard　dry　man；　what
  a　firm　man；　what　a　confidential　man：　　how　he　lets　us　into　the
  waiting…room；　like　a　man　who　knows　minutely　what　is　the　matter　with
  us；　but　from　whom　the　rack　should　not　wring　the　secret。　　In　the
  prosaic　〃season；〃　he　has　distinctly　the　appearance　of　a　man
  conscious　of　money　in　the　savings　bank；　and　taking　his　stand　on　his
  respectability　with　both　feet。　　At　that　time　it　is　as　impossible　to
  associate　him　with　relaxation；　or　any　human　weakness；　as　it　is　to
  meet　his　eye　without　feeling　guilty　of　indisposition。　　In　the　blest
  Arcadian　time；　how　changed！　　I　have　seen　him；　in　a　pepper…and…salt
  jacket　…　jacket　…　and　drab　trousers；　with　his　arm　round　the　waist
  of　a　bootmaker's　housemaid；　smiling　in　open　day。　　I　have　seen　him
  at　the　pump　by　the　Albany；　unsolicitedly　pumping　for　two　fair　young
  creatures；　whose　figures　as　they　bent　over　their　cans；　were　…　if　I
  may　be　allowed　an　original　expression　…　a　model　for　the　sculptor。
  I　have　seen　him　trying　the　piano　in　the　Doctor's　drawing…room　with
  his　forefinger；　and　have　heard　him　humming　tunes　in　praise　of
  lovely　woman。　　I　have　seen　him　seated　on　a　fire…engine；　and　going
  （obviously　in　search　of　excitement）　to　a　fire。　　I　saw　him；　one
  moonlight　evening　when　the　peace　and　purity　of　our　Arcadian　west
  were　at　their　height；　polk　with　the　lovely　daughter　of　a　cleaner　of
  gloves；　from　the　door…steps　of　his　own　residence；　across　Saville…
  row；　round　by　Clifford…street　and　Old　Burlington…street；　back　to
  Burlington…gardens。　　Is　this　the　Golden　Age　revived；　or　Iron
  London？
  The　Dentist's　servant。　　Is　that　man　no　mystery　to　us；　no　type　of
  invisible　power？　　The　tremendous　individual　knows　（who　else　does？）
  what　is　done　with　the　extracted　teeth；　he　knows　what　goes　on　in　the
  little　room　where　something　is　always　being　washed　or　filed；　he
  knows　what　warm　spicy　infusion　is　put　into　the　comfortable　tumbler
  from　which　we　rinse　our　wounded　mouth；　with　a　gap　in　it　that　feels
  a　foot　wide；　he　knows　whether　the　thing　we　spit　into　is　a　fixture
  communicating　with　the　Thames；　or　could　be　cleared　away　for　a
  dance；　he　sees　the　horrible　parlour　where　there　are　no　patients　in
  it；　and　he　could　reveal；　if　he　would；　what　becomes　of　the　Every…Day
  Book　then。　　The　conviction　of　my　coward　conscience　when　I　see　that
  man　in　a　professional　light；　is；　that　he　knows　all　the　statistics
  of　my　teeth　and　gums；　my　double　teeth；　my　single　teeth；　my　stopped
  teeth；　and　my　sound。　　In