SORDID HO UN SLOW 71 



The King was generally supposed to be very much 

 under the influence of Queen Adelaide, and this was 

 more or less gracefully alluded to by a pair of trousers 

 fluttering in the wind like a banner suspended across 

 the road. Their Majesties testified their recognition 

 and appreciation of Brentford wit by never passing- 

 through the town again. 



A little further afield takes us to Hounslow, where 

 John Jerry is busy putting up those long streets of 

 " villas," whose deadly sameness vexes the soul of the 

 artist. He has torn down the old houses, in one of 

 which, or rather, in several of which — for tliey had 

 intercommunicating passages — Dick Turpin was wont 

 to hide when he was in refuge from the Bow Street 

 runners. 



" Bold Turpin vunce, ou Hounslow Heath, 

 His mare, Black Bess, bestrod — er : 

 Veu there he see'd the bishop's coach 

 Coming along the road — er." 



Thus sang Sam Weller ; but " Bold Turpin" would 

 be hard put to it to identify his suburban haunts now, 

 and we, before our hair is grey, will find those places 

 strano-e which were so familiar the matter of a few 

 years ago. 



The town of Hounslow is as unprepossessing as its 

 name, which is saying a great deal. Its mile-long 

 street, unlivened by any interesting features, is dull 

 witlioLit descending to the positively interesting un- 

 loveliness of Brentford. Just as collectors prize old 

 china whose shape and colouring are frankly hideous 

 to those who are not of the elect in those matters, so 

 the grotesquely dirty and ugly streets of Brentford 



