the extracts which I reproduce here, I hope that I have not retained anything which comes under that category.
July 12th.—The Sultan and I arrived in London almost at the same time, but in different quarters—my point of entry being Paddington, and his Charing Cross. I must admit that the crowd was greatest at the latter place. . . .
Mr. Dodgson and Dr. Liddon met at Dover, and passed the night at one of the hotels there:—
July 13th. We breakfasted, as agreed, at eight, or at least we then sat down and nibbled bread and butter till such time as the chops should be done, which great event took place about half-past. We tried pathetic appeals to the wandering waiters, who told us, "They are coming, sir," in a soothing tone, and we tried stern remonstrance, and they then said, "They are coming, sir," in a more injured tone; and after all such appeals they retired into their dens, and hid themselves behind side-boards and dish-covers, and still the chops came not. We agreed that of all virtues a waiter can display, that of a retiring disposition is quite the least desirable. . . .
The pen refuses to describe the sufferings of some of the passengers during our smooth trip of ninety minutes: my own sensations were those of extreme surprise, and a little indignation, at there being no other sensations—it was not for that I paid my money. . . .
We landed at Calais in the usual swarm of friendly natives, offering services and advice of all kinds; to all such remarks I returned one simple answer, Non! It was probably not strictly applicable in all cases, but it answered the purpose of getting rid of them; one by one they left me, echoing the Non! in various tones, but all expressive of disgust.
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