112 AX AMERICAN FARMER IN ENGLAND. 



below us, you see the dark water, perhaps of old the fosse, 

 but now a modern commercial canal. A long, narrow boat, 

 much narrower than our canal-boats, laden with coals, is com 

 ing from under the bridge ; a woman is steering it, and on 

 the cabin, in large, red letters, you see her name, &quot; Margaret 

 Francis&quot; and the name of the boat, the &quot; Telegraph.&quot; That 

 arch was turned by a man now living, but that course of stones 

 the dark ones between the ivy and the abutment was laid 

 by a Roman mason, when Rome was mistress of the world. 

 Walk on. The wall is five feet wide on the top, with 

 a parapet of stone on the outside, and an iron rail within. 

 Don t fear, though it is so far and deep to the canal, and the 

 stone looks so time-worn and crumbling ; it is firm with true 

 Roman cement, the blood of brave men. Here it is strength 

 ened by a heavy tower, now somewhat dilapidated. Look 

 up, and you see upon it a rude carving of a phoenix ; under it 

 an old tablet, with these words : 



&quot; ON THIS TOWER STOOD CHARLES THE FIRST, AND SAW HIS ARMY DEFEATED.&quot; 



Within the tower is the stall of a newsman. Buy the 

 London Times, which has come some hundred miles since 

 morning, with the information that yesterday the honourable 

 president of a Peace Society was shot in a duel. (A fact.) 



Pass on. On one side of us are tall chimneys, through 

 which, from fierce forge fires, ascend black smoke and incense 

 of bitumen to the glory of mammon. Close on the other 

 side stands a venerable cathedral, built by pious labour of de 

 vout men to the laud and service of their God. We look into 

 the burying-ground, and on the old gravestones observe many 

 familiar names of New England neighbours. 



Narrow brick houses are built close up to the wall again, 

 and now on both sides ; the wall, which you can stride across, 

 being their only street or way of access. Here, again, it 



