As the contributor dwelt pityingly upon these things, but at
the same time estimated their aesthetic value one by one, he drew near the
head of his street, and found himself a few paces behind a boy slouching
onward through the night, to whom he called out, adventurously, and with
no real hope of information,--
"Do you happen to know anybody on this street by the name of Hapford?"
"Why no, not in this town," said the boy; but he added that there was a
street of the same name in a neighboring suburb, and that there was a
Hapford living on it.
"By Jove!" thought the contributor, "this is more like literature than
ever;" and he hardly knew whether to be more provoked at his own stupidity
in not thinking of a street of the same name in the next village, or
delighted at the element of fatality which the fact introduced into the
story; for Tinker, according to his own account, must have landed from the
cars a few rods from the very door he was seeking, and so walked farther
and farther from it every moment.
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