"A DKAG." ISO 



laurels, containing men, women, and children, 

 barrels of beer, and baskets of provisions, [are 

 the East-End Benevolent Society, on their road 

 to Busliey Park to enjoy a picnic under its 

 stately avenues of horse-chestnuts. 



" It's a poor heart that never rejoices I" says 

 the man at the gate, smirking at the females as 

 he gives the ticket, and helping himself to a 

 handful of apples from a neighbouring barrow- 

 woman's stall, which he throws into the laps 

 of the delighted juveniles. A key bugle, play- 

 ino' " Love's young dream," announces the 

 approach of another " drag;" but what a con- 

 trast to the one I have described ! It is painted 

 green, picked out with red, evidently an old 

 stage-coach metamorphosed ; for a close ob- 

 server might perceive the words " Chatham and 

 Rochester," partly defaced, and painted over 

 with a fancy crest and motto ; the driver sitting, 

 like a journeyman tailor on his board, with one 

 servant behind, with a gaudy livery and gold- 

 laced hat; the horses, one blind, two kickers 

 and a bolter, evidently bent on having a way of 

 their own. "Regular Brummagem," exclaims 

 the man of " no trust." " All is not gold that 

 glitters." 



Next comes a youth on an animal long in the 



