be night-watchmen, one of whom was concocting the brew, the other cutting large slices of bread and butter. The third man—short, stubbly, and of an expression wholly dull and vicious—was not in their uniform. He had the appearance of a man whose profession was very vague, and seemed to be lounging there for no better purpose than cadging a cup from pals. He was remarkable for nothing but a Broken Nose.
The Professor smelt the delicious steam. He came in through the doorway and all three men looked up.
It is a beautiful trait in our national character that the poor will ever welcome the wealthier classes, particularly when these betray upon their features that sort of imbecile ignorance of reality and childish trust in rogues which is common to all the liberal professions save that of the law, which is rare in merchants, which is universal in dons.
If the mass of our people love a guileless simplicity in their superiors, when it is accompanied by debauch they positively adore it; and the excellent reception the Professor met with upon his entry was due more than anything else to the conviction of his three inferiors that an elderly man in tattered
