I recognised in this last name a term inseparably connected with burglary; and, not waiting longer, I flung open the door, and with a shout, as much to keep up my own courage as to alarm the enemy, I hurled first my poker, then my water-bottle, then myself in the direction of the voices, and felt that at last I was a hero indeed.
I retain but a dim idea of what followed.

I recollect a sooty sack being drawn over my head, just as a general rush of servants and male members of the family, alarmed by the hideous noise of the water-bottle and fire-irons, rushed into the room.

Then there was a pause, then a babel of voice, and then, with a cuff on the outside of the sack next to where my head was, the first burglar made a speech:--"I'm bust if I sweeps yer chimbleys any more! This 'ere lunertick was handy the death of Jemmy with his missals.

Bust me! I'll summons the lot of yer, see if I don't." I will not pursue this melancholy episode, and as a veil was drawn over me at the time, I will also draw a veil over what immediately ensued.
My visit to my uncle's terminated that day, and a few weeks later I saw in the paper that he had been fined L5--for an assault committed by one of his household on two sweeps.
After this I had not the heart to proceed to the last desperate expedient for acquiring immortal fame.

As long as my endeavours had hurt only myself, it was not so bad, but when they recoiled on the heads of my most important relatives I felt it time to draw the line.