I 370 ] [Oct. 



PERSONAL NARRATIVE OF A JOURNEY FROM WHITECHAPEL TO 

 HIGHGATE ARCHWAY: BY JULIUS-JEREMY-JOSEPH DE GOOSE. 



On the 2nd of August 1829, my kind master, INIr. Kitchens, pork- 

 butcher of Whitechapel, gave me a whole day's holiday; and, after 

 considerable hesitation, whether I should shape my course to Turnham 

 Green, or Highgate Archway, I decided upon proceeding to the latter. 

 I was partly induced to make this choice, because I found a very agree- 

 able companion in Mr. Stephen Thompson, the cutler, who was going 

 to Kentish Town, and who consented to accompany me as long as our 

 routes lay together. 



After a tedious and uninteresting walk to the Poultry, we entered 

 Cheapside, having the IMansion House on our left, and the Bank of 

 England on our right. The latter was not open yet, for it was only a 

 quarter past seven ; but I could not help reflecting, as I cast a hurried 

 glance towards its walls, what a sight of money they must contain ; 

 while, at the same moment, the natural wish was formed in my mind 

 that some of it was mine. Turning my eyes towards the IMansion House, 

 different feelings arose in my soul. I had no books with me relating to 

 this majestic edifice ; but its vicinity to Bow Church carried back my 

 imagination to the period of Whittington ; and, in the enthusiasm of the 

 moment, I fancied I heard its prophetic chimes, and saw the gentle boy 

 parting from his beloved cat ! It was a curious coincidence, and tended 

 much to heighten my already excited feelings, that a fine tom-cat, all 

 black, was sitting on the top of the steps, washing his whiskers in the 

 morning sun ; while his mistress, as I presumed — for I had not time to 

 ascertain the fact — was wasliing the steps themselves. It was just pos- 

 sible, I thought — najr, even probable — that this very torn was a descend- 

 ant of that very she who, as authentic history recounts, returned from 

 her voyage, and lived to see her affectionate master Lord Mayor of 

 London. 



Full of these reflections, I continued my walk ; when, at the corner 

 of IMilk Street, we met two milk-maids. My friend Thompson spoke 

 to them. They were somewhat shy, but gave me a most favourable idea 

 of a milk-maid's beauty. They were neatly dressed in green ginghams, 

 with black bonnets ; and, one being considerably bigger than the other, 

 I could not help comparing them in my own mind to eighteen-pence — 

 that is, to a shilling and a sixpence. I mentioned this to my friend, who 

 seemed much struck with the idea. I perceived, indeed, that he imme- 

 diately put his right hand into his breeches-pocket, and kept it there. 

 I could not account for this proceeding ; bnt my perplexity was soon at 

 an end. We were within a few yards of Butcher-Hall Lane (a narrow 

 outlet on the north side of Newgate Street), when we saw a butcher 

 crossing over to Newgate Market. He was as large as a prize-ox, and 

 as tall as a life-guardsman. — " There's a great man !" said I. — " Yes," 

 replied Stephen Thompson ; " but here's a greater !" I looked round, 

 and saw my friend with a nutmeg-grater in his hand, which he had 

 taken out of his breeches-pocket, and was holding up between his finger 

 and thumb. I laughed immoderately, when my facetious companion 

 told me he always carrie4 it about him, to be ready with his joke if any 

 body else let off one. 



This little incident amused us all the way till we came to the Old 

 Bailey ; but I thought I should have dropped with agitation, when I 



