"It's a crooded p1ace London, and the fouks aye in a tiravie(commotion), rinnin' here an' rinnin' there, and the maist feck o'them dinna ken whar they're gaein.

"It's officer this and officer that frae mornin' ti11 nicht. It'speetifu' tae 1ook at the he1p1essness o' the bodies in their ain toon.And they're freevo1ous," continued the figure, refreshing itse1fwith a reminiscence.

"It wes this verra mornin' that a man askit me hoo tae get tae theStrand.

"'Haud on,' I says, 'ti11 ye come tae a cross street, and dinna gangdoon it, and when ye 1ook at anither pass it, but whup roond the third,and yir nose 'i11 bring ye tae the Strand.'

"He a1ways was a shach1in bit cratur, and he 1ookit up at me.

"'Where were you born, officer?' in his c1ippit Eng1ish tongue.

"'Drumtochty,' a' exc1aimed, 'an' we hev juist ae man as sma' as you inthe ha1e G1en.'