Losh! mon, I was verra disappointed with London when I stepped out into yon street. It was quieter than the ruined wee village I'd left in France. Well, I looked at the Abbey from the outside, but no' feeling dressed for the kirk, I went across to the Houses of Parliament, thinking maybe the politicians would have had their breakfast interval and be starting again soon, as it was by then getting on for eight o'clock.
But the big gates were shut and there seemed no one about but a policeman. A nice mon he was—and he knew me, too.
"Halloa, Jock!" says he, quite friendly. "What are ye wanting?"
"Mon," says I, "I'm having a day in London, and I want to see the Members of Parliament and the great lords at work. Maybe the day-shift's having breakfast and not started yet?"
The policeman laughed as though I'd made a joke. He said the members weren't working that day, and anyway they didn't start till the afternoon.
"Mon," I said, "they must make good money, or they'd never be able to live with so much standing-off time."
"They don't do so bad," says the policeman, with another laugh; and I walked up a road called Whitehall, though I couldn't see anything white about it, unless it was the faces of the wee lassies hurrying to work. Then I went into a park and sat down and had a rest and a smoke. Maybe I dozed for awhile, for when I got out into that same Whitehall again something wonderful seemed to have happened. It was all noise and rush, and I was saluting officers until my arm ached. Then I crossed the road a bit, and after having been nearly run over twice, turned down a side-street and lost myself.
III—ON THE WAY TO PICCADILLY
Presently I saw what looked like a kindly old gentleman, and I asked him the way to Piccadilly.