We may here allude to his kindly feeling for children, whose romps so often employed his pen. Further down the shady groves the coco seller finds a customer in a militaire, whose tastes are simple, or whose means do not compass a more ambitious beverage.
Before he dines, Mr. Titmarsh returns to his lodgings (possibly the very ones he occupied during the tragedy of Attwood's violent end, described in the 'Gambler's Death'), to 'wash-in' a few croquis in Indian ink; and there, we may assume, he traces on a loose scrap of paper the whimsical outline of 'An Eastern Traveller.'
An Eastern Traveller
Anon Mr. Titmarsh plunges deeper into the art career; his aspirations lead him to Rome; there, amidst galleries, artists, authors, models, canvases, and easels, he pursues his lively though somewhat desultory course. Who could be more at home in the head-quarters of the fine arts? who more popular than this kind-hearted, keen-witted young satirist? a universal favourite, treasuring, perhaps unconsciously, every phase of the mixed life he met and led there. Again, as in Paris, a pure Bohemian through inclination, and yet fond of fine sights and society, with the entrée at his disposal to every circle, refined or vagabond, of the communism of a republic of art and letters.
A Neapolitan 'Snob'
Southern Italy