due. They save their pence and lose hundreds.
It is not bribery; it is not the money that does
it. It is the favour begotten by a good heart.
My only regret is, that the mediumship of
friendliness should be so largely monopolised
by "something to drink."

But I have been standing all this time on my
new doorstep. "Well, it is pleasant to stand
on a door-step that you can call your own. No
one else can come here with dirty feet except
on sufferance, and by kind permission of the
lessee. The sticks showed well when they
were dispersed—thinly I will confess—over the
various rooms, and the deal-top table hiding its
Norwegian ruggedness under a velvet-pile cover,
looked quite splendid. I was never tired of
wandering from room to room to admire my household
gods. Yes, they were mine, and the Temple
also was mine—at least while I paid my rent.

And then I had a garden. It was, perhaps,
a stretch of courtesy to call it so, for it was not
much bigger than a good-sized room, but it had
a full-grown lime-tree at the end of it. And
fancy being the sole lessee of a full-grown tree!
It was such a tall, wide-spreading, umbrageous
tree, that if I had sent it to an anatomist of
means, he would have pronounced this opinion:
"Judging from the tree, the proprietor is a person
possessed of a mansion and an extensive
domain." I may tell you, however, that it was
well the tree grew upwards, for if it had been
in its nature to lie down, the garden would not
have contained it. So much tree to so little
garden I never knew before nor since. I took
a vast deal of pride in that tree. I used to
ascend Primrose Hill to gaze on its top from
afar, and say to myself, "Yonder is my tree,
and close by is my roof." One may indeed think
himself somebody when he has a tree that can be
seen two miles off.

On the first night of possession I remained
up until long past midnight admiring my rooms.
I sat down in them all, one after the other,
gazing at their proportions—though not noble
—and at my sticks, which looked so domestic
in their new sphere. I caught myself saying,
"They are mine! they are mine!" like a demon
in a drama, only in beneficent tones. I could
not rest in my bed in the morning. I was up
with the dawn to see how my house looked—
my house, mark. Sparrows were twittering in
my tree—I almost felt that I had game on my
estate. New brooms sweep clean. As a new
householder, I swept very clean in attending to
all a householder's duties. Every night I went
round to see that all the doors were locked.
"What pride to think that I had doors—not
merely one door, but four; front, back, garden
and kitchen, and an outer gate! And all my
property, sole and undivided! I neglected no
part of my duty. I had the sweeps in to sweep
all the chimneys, though I was not aware that
they wanted sweeping particularly; I employed
men to examine the drains and the water supply;
I was quite delighted when I found that my
roof had a tile off, and one of my chimneys
smoked and wanted a cowl. I called in plumbers
and tin-smiths to put them to rights, and
in the pride of being a householder, paid the
charges out of my own pocket, when I might
have sent my bill to my landlord. I was eager
to pay taxes, and was quite impatient until they
were applied for. When the Queen's taxes
came in I thought the amount very inconsiderable.
I had heard old householders groan under
the burden of taxation; but really this was
nothing to groan about—only a pound or two.

The rates for the maintenance of the poor,
the police, the gas-lamps, the highways, the
pavements, and the main drainage, were better.
The total amount was something that I could
give a cheque for. And I gave a cheque for it on
the first application. I remember that the
collector looked at me quite aghast. (I have come to
understand his emotion on that occasion, and do
not now give him cause to be similarly affected.)
I dare say he said to himself, as he closed the
gate, that it wouldn't last. If he did, he was
quite right. It didn't last. About that cheque:
It was the first one I had ever drawn. I had had
a virgin cheque-book in my pocket for nearly
four-and-twenty hours, and was dying to fill
up one of the little slips and sign my name at
the bottom of it. I am sure I must have
spoiled a whole quire of letter-paper practising
my signature. Should I sign myself Sam: or
Samuel at full length? Should I have a flourish
or no flourish? Which was the easier to forge,
a signature with a flourish, or a signature without
a flourish? I decided upon a flourish, but
in the flurry of signing for the taxes, I forgot
the flourish, and, as the flourish did not
correspond with the signature which I had
previously given at the bank, there were inquiries
—naturally, it being the first cheque—and I
had to give explanations. It was a noble thing,
was it not, to draw my first cheque for taxes?
When I am a barrister of seven years' standing
I shall, on this score, apply for a Commissionership
of Inland Revenue. It was—for some
weeks, not many—a source of much pride to
me to think that the street-lamp opposite was
partly my property; that I helped to pay for
it; that I helped to pay for the sewers which
they were always taking up to look at and put
down again; that I helped to pay for the pavement,
and the water-cart, and the fire-escape.
(I subscribed to everything; a man had only
to come to the door with a paper, and he got
the money on the instant.) When a policeman
passed, I said to myself, "That officer of the
peace is partly my property; how much of
him I don't know, possibly only the buckle of
his stock, but I pay for a portion of him at any
rate." So when I saw a soldier I calculated
that perhaps a button belonged to me. It was
in that week that I caught myself telling a
beggar to begone, that I paid poor's-rates
enough, and that there was tlhe workhouse for
him—the workhouse which I helped to support.

Yes; the collector was quite right. It didn't
last. After a week or two I let the doors take their
chance. I was getting used to doors, and going
round every night to see that they were bolted