that some degree of force is necessary on the
trooper's part to effect a separation. It is accomplished at last, and he
proceeds alone in quest of his adviser.
    By the cloisterly Temple, and by Whitefriars (there, not without a glance at
Hanging-Sword Alley, which would seem to be something in his way), and by
Blackfriars Bridge, and Blackfriars Road, Mr. George sedately marches to a
street of little shops lying somewhere in that ganglion of roads from Kent and
Surrey, and of streets from the bridges of London, centring in the far-famed
Elephant who has lost his castle formed of a thousand four-horse coaches, to a
stronger iron monster than he, ready to chop him into mince-meat any day he
dares. To one of the little shops in this street, which is a musician's shop,
having a few fiddles in the window, and some Pan's pipes and a tambourine, and a
triangle, and certain elongated scraps of music, Mr. George directs his massive
tread. And halting at a few paces from it, as he sees a soldierly-looking woman,
with her outer skirts tucked up, come forth with a small wooden tub, and in that
tub commence a whisking and a splashing on the margin of the pavement, Mr.
George says to himself, »She's as usual, washing greens. I never saw her, except
upon a baggage-waggon, when she wasn't washing greens!«
    The subject of this reflection is at all events so occupied in washing
greens at present, that she remains unsuspicious of Mr. George's approach;
until, lifting up herself and her tub together, when she has poured the water
off into the gutter, she finds him standing near her. Her reception of him is
not flattering.
    »George, I never see you but I wish you was a hundred mile away!«
    The trooper, without remarking on this welcome, follows into the musical
instrument shop, where the lady places her tub of greens upon the counter, and
having shaken hands with him, rests her arms upon it.
    »I never,« she says, »George, consider Matthew Bagnet safe a minute when
you're near him. You are that restless and that roving -«
    »Yes! I know I am, Mrs. Bagnet. I know I am.«
    »You know you are!« says Mrs. Bagnet. »What's the use of that? Why are you?«
    »The nature of the animal,