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meetings between Dr. Johnson and Bosvvell took place, was pulled 

 down in 1829, by the Messrs. Hoare, to extend their banking 

 house. The original "Mitre" was of Shepherd's time. The 

 present spurious "Mitre" tavern, in Mitre-court, was originally- 

 known as "Joe's Coffee House." 



In the reign of Edward III. the excessive length of the tavern 

 signs (ale-stakes as they were then called) was complained of by 

 persons riding in Cheapside. All the taverns in the city were 

 therefore summoned to the Guild-hall, and warned that no sign or 

 bush (hence the proverb, "Good wine needs no bush") should 

 henceforth extend over the king's highway beyond the length of 

 seven feet, under the pain of a fine of forty pence to the Chamber 

 of the Guild-hall. 



"King's Head" tavern was kept at the restoration by William 

 King, a staunch cavalier. It is said that the landlord's wife 

 happened to be on the point of labour on the king's entry into 

 London. She was extremely anxious to see him. The monarch 

 being told of her inclination, drew up at the tavern in his good- 

 natured way and saluted her. This tavern was long a depot in 

 the metropolis for turtle ; and in the quadrangle of the house 

 might be seen scores of turtles, large and lively, in huge tanks of 

 water, or laid upward on the stone floor, ready for their destination. 

 The house was refitted in 1852, but has since been pulled down. 



In a work on Inns and Signboards we read : — " In 171 1, at the 

 'Duke of Marlborough's Head,' in Fleet-street (off Shoe-lane), the 

 great Posture Master of Europe, eclipsing the deceased Clarke v. 

 Higgins, greatly startled sight-seeing London. He extends his 

 body into all deformed shapes, makes his hips and shoulder bones 

 meet together, lays his head upon the ground and turns his body 

 round twice or thrice without stirring his face from the spot ; 

 stands upon one leg and extends the other in a perpendicular line 

 half a yard above his head; with other postures tedious to mention. 

 And here in 17 18, De Hightrehight, the fire-eater, ate burning 

 coals, swallowed flaming brimstone, and sucked a red-hot poker 

 five times a day. What will my biUiard-loving friends say to the 

 St. Dunstan's inquest of the year 1720? 'Item, we present Thomas 



