Never till then had I heard the British national word; and when my father explained that "respectability" meant "une nature honorable," we boys looked out at the soot-garden and penitentiary, and marvelled why honour in London looked so dirty.
The next day was Sunday, and our landlady furnished us with the name of a "most respectable" church near Clerkenwell Prison.
But John expressed a suspiciously fervent and pious desire to attend service at St. Paul's Cathedral, and when my mother looked hard at him he blushed. That settled it. I was ordered to put on my new Sunday boots, and go with him.
When we got outside, John took the precaution, by way of a start, to box my ears for being an artful little mouchard, and then set off as fast as he could go, with a view to leaving me behind.
His legs were long, mine were short, and I wore my Sunday boots. Besides, I was hindered by rude insular boys, who stood in my way pointing to my Parisian headgear, and shouting barbarian phrases which I have since recognised as "Who's your 'atter?"
We ran, as I have since ascertained, through Euston Square, Tavistock Square, Bloomsbury Square, Bedford Square, twice round Russell Square, and then somehow got back to Euston. Then John stopped. The fact was he was lost. But he put a bold front on the matter, and said we would go and dance with the London 'prentice lads and fair-haired Saxon maids, first at Westminster and then at Tower Green. He told me he had seen pictures in which the youth of Britain, in gaily-coloured attire, were shown dancing round garlanded and festooned poles. He fancied the sports were held at Westminster. But was sure some were held on Tower Hill. Was I brave enough to join the venture and risk the after-part?
I was a nice, well-meaning boy, but before his dazzling array of temptations I fell at once.
John knew a little English—learnt at the Lycée St. Louis—but, as he confided to me after several interviews with the ignorant Londoners, these persons did not understand their own tongue; and it seemed to take a long time to teach it them.
So we trudged again through the dreadful, dreary, desolate squares, with their carefully railed regulation patches of soot-gardens, and indefinable, uniform air of hypochondriacal blight.