Chunk 1
Stevenson, 1886"I was coming home from some place at the end of the world, about three o'clock of a black winter morning, and my way lay through a part of town where there was literally nothing to be seen but lamps. Street after street and all the folks asleep - street after street, all lighted up as if for a procession and all as empty as a church - till at last I got into that state of mind when a man listens and listens and begins to long for the sight of a policeman."