THE UNCOMMERCIAL TRAVELLER

TWENTY-SIX ILLUSTRATIONS BY E. G. DALZIEL

Saw from the ladder's elevation, as he looked down by chance towards the shore, some dark, troubled object close in with the land—The Shipwreck

A cheap theatre, Sunday night—Two Views of a Cheap Theatre

Stood a creature remotely in the likeness of a young man, with puffed, sallow face, and a figure all dirty and shiny and slimy, who may have been the youngest son of his filthy old father, Thames—Wapping Workhouse

Mr. Grazinglands looked into a pastrycook's window, hesitating as to the expediency of lunching at that establishment—Refreshments for Travellers

"Bags to hold your money," says the witch, shaking her head and setting her teeth; "you as has got it"—Poor Mercantile Jack

The tall glazed head-dress of his warrior Straudenheim instantly knocked off—Travelling Abroad

He was taken into custody by the police—Shy Neighbourhoods

"Drop of something to drink," interposed the stranger. "I am agreeable"—Chambers

"'Then you're a tramp,' he ses. 'I'd rather be that than a beadle,' I ses"—Tramps

"Am I red to-night?" "You are," he uncompromisingly answered—Night Walks

"A lemon has pips, and a yard has ships, and I'll have chips!"—Nurses' Stories

The wind blows stiffly from the nor'-east . . . and the shapeless passengers lie about in melancholy bundles—The Calais Night Mail

Then dropped upon her knees before us, with protestations that we were right—Some Recollections of Mortality

On the starboard side of the ship a grizzled man dictated a long letter to another grizzled man in an immense fur cap—Bound for the Great Salt Lake

Blinking old men who are let out of the workhouse by the hour have a tendency to sit on bits of coping stone in these churchyards . . . the more depressed class of beggars too bring hither broken meals, and munch—The City of the Absent

Mr. J. Mellows, of the "Dolphin's Head"—An old Stage-coaching House

Building h.m.s. Achilles—Chatham Dockyard

At the station they had been sitting about in their threadbare homespun garments . . . sad enough at heart, most of them—In the French-Flemish Country

It was agreed that Mr. Battens "ought to take it up," and Mr. Battens was communicated with on the subject—Titbull's Almshouses

At the upper end of this dungeon . . . the Englishman first beheld him, sitting on an iron bedstead, to which he was chained by a heavy chain—The Italian Prisoner

Trotting about among the beds, on familiar terms with all the patients, was a comical mongrel dog called Poodles—A Small Star in the East

Over the grog, mixed in a bucket, presides the boatswain's mate—Aboard Ship

This engaging figure approached the fatal lamps—Mr. Barlow

Look at this group at a street corner—The Ruffian

And White Riding Hood was fined ten shillings—The Ruffian