text:  I assure thee my reader; believe me my pensive public! I never was transported--never held up hand at the Old Bailey or elsewhere; am not conscious of any sinister sort of projections about my skull that phrenologists might draw ugly conclusions on; yet I confess that after an eloquent burst of Conservative wrath against this strange triumph of anarchy--after looking down on these works of mob law unreversed tamely endured--after fancying I saw the prostrate genius of social order there lying helpless--the dethroned majesty of British law there grovelling among the black ruins insulted unrestored--left to be trampled over with insolent laughter by refractory boors ignorant as savages of that law's inestimable blessing--I say after all these hurried thoughts and feelings--let me whisper thee my reader that a certain scandalous pleasure _did_ creep up from these finger-ends instinctively groping the pocket for the pre-doomed "thrippence " yea quite up to this lofty reasoning and right loyal sensorium on leaving the said sum in good and lawful money snug and safe in my own pocket instead of handing it over to a toll collector