was a penny-a-liner.

"I will go see with my own I's," he said, "that infimus hiland of which
the innabitants are shopkeepers, gorged with roast beef and treason.
I will go and see the murderers of the Hirish, the pisoners of the
Chynese, the villians who put the Hemperor to death in Saintyleany, the
artful dodges who wish to smother Europe with their cotton, and can't
sleep or rest heasy for henvy and hatred of the great inwinsable French
nation. I will igsammin, face to face, these hotty insularies; I will
pennytrate into the secrets of their Jessywhittickle cabinet, and beard
Palmerston in his denn." When he jumpt on shor at Foaxton (after having
been tremenguously sick in the fourcabbing), he exclaimed, "Enfin je te
tiens, Ile maudite! je te crache a la figure, vieille Angleterre! Je te
foule a mes pieds an nom du monde outrage," and so proseaded to inwade
the metropulus.

As he wisht to micks with the very chicest sosiaty, and git the best of
infamation about this country, Munseer Jools of coarse went and lodgd in
Lester Square--Lester Squarr, as he calls it--which, as he was infommed
in the printed suckular presented to him by a very greasy but polite
comishner at the Custumus Stares, was in the scenter of the town,
contiggus to the Ouses of Parlyment, the prinsple theayters, the parx,
St. Jams Pallice, and the Corts of Lor. "I can surwhey them all at one
cut of the eye," Jools thought; "the Sovring, the infamus Ministers
plotting the destruction of my immortial country; the business and
pleasure of these pusprond Londoners and aristoxy; I can look round and
see all." So he took a three-pair back in a French hotel, the "Hotel
de l'Ail," kep by Monsieur Gigotot, Cranbourne Street, Lester Squarr,
London.