DOWN THE ROAD IN DAYS OF YORE 71 



Majesty," nor any " Sure Cure for Pleas " — use 

 it on yourselves, you dirty-looking devils ! 



Thank goodness ! we're off, and the sooner 

 we're out of this traffic and off the stones at 

 Kingsland Turnpike the better. These paved 

 streets are so noisy, one can scarcely hear oneself 

 talk, and the rattling sends a jar up one's 

 spine. How London grows ! we shall soon see 

 the houses stretching past Kingsland and swal- 

 lowing up the country lanes of Dalston and Stoke 

 Newington. 



Hal-lo ! That was a near shave. Confound 

 those brewers' drays ; Shoreditch is always full 

 of 'em ; might have sent us slap over. Why don't 

 you keep your eyes open, fool ? 



The drayman offers to fight us all, one after 

 the other, Avitli one hand tied behind his back, for 

 sixpence a head, money down ; but though we 

 have some of " the Pancy " aboard, the " Well- 

 ington " can't stop for a mill in the middle of 

 Shoreditch High Street. 



Now at last we're fairly in the country. If 

 you look back you'll be able to see St. Paul's. 

 This is Stamford Hill, where the rich City indigo 

 and East and West India merchants live. Warm 

 men, all of them. There, ahead of us, on the right, 

 goes the river Lea : as pretty fishing there as you'd 

 j&nd even in the famous trout streams of Hamp- 

 shire. What a quaint, quiet rural place this is at 

 Tottenham ! And Edmonton, with its tea-gardens ; 

 why, London might be fifty miles away ! 



Here we are, already at Waltham Cross, and 



