12 A SUBURBAN PARLOUR. 



ceremony, but stepping over the door-sill, found ourselves, at 

 once, in a snug little front parlonir. The charity of our good 

 Samaritan did not stop here, for taking down from a con- 

 venient peg a long grey threadbare coat, he insisted on our 

 exchanging for it our dripping garment which he carried, 

 himself, to dry at his kitchen fire. 



When, in pursuance of this hospitable purpose, the old gen- 

 tleman had unsuspiciously shut the door upon us, we took 

 not the old-fashioned silver watch which hung over the mln- 

 tle-piece, but an honest survey of the room ; in a strange 

 apartment no uncommon procedure, often affording at a glance 

 some considerable insight into its occupant's pursuits and 

 character. The very name of a small suburban parlour com- 

 prehends a kidderminster carpet, four or six heavy horse-hair 

 chairs which have once stood in a patrician dining-room, a 

 glazed corner-cupboard set out in glittering array, a sorry 

 looking-glass, a table whose quality is hidden by a checquered 

 cloth, red stuff curtains, a gre&n fender, brass-footed, with stove 

 of narrow capacity, veiled (in summer) by a gaudy efflorescence 

 of cut paper. All these are general characters belonging to 

 the genus of parlours such as that into which the storm had 

 introduced us; but amidst these, what we were looking for 

 was some distinctive mark of our new friend's individuality. 



Something like this was apparent in a small but well-filled 

 book-case ; and a much used copy of Thomson's Seasons which 

 lay upon the. table, bespoke him, half cockney as he was, not 



