This made Marcus try to laugh genially at the boys. But
in vain.
"Say, Bill, isn't that little feller's shirt out o' jail?"
Tiffles made a personal application of this remark. It was his constant
misfortune to suffer rents in portions of his garments where their
existence was least likely to be discovered by himself. As he could not
publicly verify the suggestion of the impertinent small boy, he buttoned
his coat tightly about him.
How their identity with the panorama of Africa had been established, was
a mystery. Small boys divine secrets by instinct, as birds find food
and water.
The two taverns were the National House and the United States Hotel.
Although the signs were large and clean, the taverns were small and
dirty. There was no choice between them, except in the fact that the
United States Hotel was directly opposite Washington Hall. Therefore the
adherents of the panorama cast their fortunes with that place of
entertainment for man and beast--particularly beast.
Mr. Thomas Pigworth, the landlord, was seated on the stoop of his
hostelry, discoursing of national politics to a small group of his
fellow citizens, who were performing acrobatic feats with chairs in a
circle about him.
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