BEGGARS ON HORSEBACK. 



the memory of the thud of 'bus-horses' feet on 

 wood pavement, the hot ghtter of harness and 

 hvery buttons at Hyde Park Corner, the pre- 

 carious dive across Piccadilly, and all the other 

 environments of yesterday. The heat of noon 

 lay here like a spell on the street, and Welshpool, 

 for the most part, sat in its shady back parlours 

 in comfortable lethargy. 



Like the other shops, Mr Williams, the chem- 

 ist's, was cool and empty, with the air of a 

 place where it is always dinner -hour hanging 

 drowsily over it. Indeed, the pimpled cheek of 

 the apprentice — why are pimples the common 

 wear of chemists' assistants? — was still inflated 

 by a mouthful when he made his appearance, 

 and a sound as of dumpling impeded the voice 

 in which he told us that Mr Williams had a 

 pony, and that the mistress would speak to us 

 herself. 



" Mr Williams was away," explained Mrs 

 Williams, " drawinsf teeth and measurinsr for 

 new ones ; and y'know what a job that is," she 



