{"id":"01KG6G89R226ACKWRMBT1YQA05","cid":"bafkreiecklyakzd3k7yibfyonjhrs5bl7s6vee4gugw3xow7tdprhbf2oq","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":5768,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T03:48:16.150Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 2","source_file":"01KG6FXSCNX5F3D880P3YP3PKR","start_line":5707,"text":"through three millions of my own human kind. The fiendish gas-lights\r\nshooting their Tartarean rays across the muddy, sticky streets, lit up\r\nthe pitiless and pitiable scene.\r\n\r\nWell, well, if this were but Sunday now, I might conciliate some kind\r\nfemale pew-opener, and rest me in some inn-like chapel upon some\r\nstranger’s outside bench. But it is Saturday night. The end of the weary\r\nweek, and all but the end of weary me.\r\n\r\nDisentangling myself at last from those skeins of Pandemonian lanes\r\nwhich snarl one part of the metropolis between Fleet Street and Holborn,\r\nI found myself at last in a wide and far less noisy street, a short and\r\nshopless one, leading up from the Strand, and terminating at its\r\njunction with a crosswise avenue. The comparative quietude of the place\r\nwas inexpressively soothing. It was like emerging upon the green\r\nenclosure surrounding some cathedral church, where sanctity makes all\r\nthings still. Two lofty brilliant lights attracted me in this tranquil\r\nstreet. Thinking it might prove some moral or religious meeting, I\r\nhurried toward the spot; but was surprised to see two tall placards\r\nannouncing the appearance that night, of the stately Macready in the\r\npart of Cardinal Richelieu. Very few loiterers hung about the place, the\r\nhour being rather late, and the play-bill hawkers mostly departed, or\r\nkeeping entirely quiet. This theatre indeed, as I afterwards discovered,\r\nwas not only one of the best in point of acting, but likewise one of the\r\nmost decorous in its general management, inside and out. In truth, the\r\nwhole neighbourhood, as it seemed to me--issuing from the jam and uproar\r\nof those turbulent tides against which, or borne on irresistibly by\r\nwhich, I had so long been swimming--the whole neighbourhood, I say, of\r\nthis pleasing street seemed in good keeping with the character imputed\r\nto its theatre.\r\n\r\nGlad to find one blessed oasis of tranquillity, I stood leaning against\r\na column of the porch, and striving to lose my sadness in running over\r\none of the huge placards. No one molested me. A tattered little girl, to\r\nbe sure, approached with a hand-bill extended, but marking me more\r\nnarrowly, retreated; her strange skill in physiognomy at once enabling\r\nher to determine that I was penniless. As I read, and read--for the\r\nplacard, of enormous dimensions, contained minute particulars of each\r\nsuccessive scene in the enacted play--gradually a strong desire to\r\nwitness this celebrated Macready in this his celebrated part stole over\r\nme. By one act, I might rest my jaded limbs, and more than jaded\r\nspirits. Where else could I go for rest, unless I crawled into my cold\r\nand lonely bed far up in an attic of Craven Street, looking down upon\r\nthe muddy Phlegethon of the Thames. Besides, what I wanted was not\r\nmerely rest, but cheer; the making one of many pleased and pleasing\r\nhuman faces; the getting into a genial humane assembly of my kind; such\r\nas, at its best and highest, is to be found in the unified multitude of\r\na devout congregation. But no such assemblies were accessible that\r\nnight, even if my unbefriended and rather shabby air would overcome the\r\nscruples of those fastidious gentry with red gowns and long gilded\r\nstaves, who guard the portals of the first-class London tabernacles from\r\nall profanation of a poor, forlorn, and fainting wanderer like me. Not\r\ninns, but ecclesiastical hotels, where the pews are the rented chambers.\r\n\r\nNo use to ponder, thought I, at last; it is Saturday night, not Sunday;\r\nand so, a theatre only can receive me. So powerfully in the end did the\r\nlonging to get into the edifice come over me, that I almost began to\r\nthink of pawning my overcoat for admittance. But from this last\r\ninfatuation I was providentially withheld by a sudden cheery summons, in\r\na voice unmistakably benevolent. I turned, and saw a man who seemed to\r\nbe some sort of a working man.\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 2"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG6G7T9A0M5YBR2ESANM5EKG","peer_type":"section","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG6FXSCNX5F3D880P3YP3PKR","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG2T49K0H5GDRB0G4YDTPG8H","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG6G89QWAS6620599Z78N8VY","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"prev"},{"peer":"01KG6G89R270WFDG3XTZ78A9HG","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T03:48:21.890Z","ts":"2026-01-30T03:48:27.819Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}