so as that the owner himself would not recognize his property again. There are two or more who live in and about Spitalfields, and others beyond the Tower: of the latter I hear from oft-repeated report; the former came to my knowledge in this way. Coming from roost one morning, the winter before last, I met old acquaintance, Be, in Barbican. "Where going so early?" I enquired. "To Bethnal Green," was the re-ply. I wanted very much to know whereabout there; but he was extremely costive of commucation, which only served to raise my curiosity still higher. He went off at his usual pace: I could not follow personally [it would look so ish]; so I sent my eyes after him, counting the steps he took: they were thirty-eight per minute by my watch; and I resolved to wait until he came back, which I knew must be by that route, as it turned out, being the nearest way to Drury lane. Multiplying the minutes of his absence by thirty-eight, allowing two minutes for taking a glass of gin, and two more to speak to the Fence. I found it brought me so far as Fashion Street on the right, and on the left it might extend to Bacon Street; for I afterwards paced the same number of steps on the
