James Parton, The life of Horace Greeley

[135] my breakfast, sallied immediately out, and proceeded to attend to the business which engrossed my mind. Dinner-time came, but no time for dinner; and it was late before I was at liberty to wend my way, over wheel-barrows, barrels, and all manner of obstructions, towards my boarding-house. All here was still; but by the help of my night-keys, I soon introduced myself to my chamber, dreaming of nothing but sweet repose; when, horrible to relate! my ears were instantaneously saluted by a most piercing female shriek, proceeding exactly from my own bed, or at least from the place where it should have been; and scarcely had sufficient time elapsed for my hair to bristle on my head, before the shriek was answered by the loud vociferations of a ferocious mastiff in the kitchen beneath, and re-echoed by the outcries of half a dozen inmates of the house, and these again succeeded by the rattle of the watchman; and the next moment, there was a round dozen of them (besides the dog) at my throat, and commanding me to tell them instantly what the devil all this meant.

‘You do well to ask that,’ said I, as soon as I could speak, ‘after falling upon me in this fashion in my own chamber.’

‘O take him off,’ said the one who assumed to be the master of the house; ‘perhaps he's not a thief after all; but, being too tipsy for starlight, he has made a mistake in trying to find his lodgings,’—and in spite of all my remonstrances, I was forthwith marched off to the watch-house, to pass the remainder of the night. In the morning, I narrowly escaped commitment on the charge of “burglary with intent to steal” (I verily believe it would have gone hard with me if the witnesses could have been got there at that unseasonable hour), and I was finally discharged with a solemn admonition to guard for the future against intoxication (think of that, sir, for a member of the Cold Water Society!)

I spent the next day in unraveling the mystery; and found that my landlord had removed his goods and chattels to another part of the city, on the established day, supposing me to be previously acquainted and satisfied with his intention of so doing; and another family had immediately taken his place; of which changes, my absence of mind and absence from dinner had kept me ignorant; and thus had I been led blindfold into a “Comedy” (or rather tragedy) of Errors. Your unfortunate,

Timothy Wiggins.

His connection with the office of a sporting paper procured him occasionally an order for admission to a theatre, which he used. He appeared to have had a natural liking for the drama; all intelligent persons have when they are young; and one of his companions of that day remembers well the intense interest with which he once witnessed the performance of Richard III., at the old Chatham