COACHES IN THE PAEK. 



Had the celebrated lexicograplier made his oft-quoted 

 remark to me^ touching that walk down Fleet Street, 

 my reply would have been, ^^ Thank you very much, 

 but I had rather not.''^ 



For my part I never go eastward of that dilapidated 

 structure which straddles epileptically across the great- 

 est thoroughfare in the world, unless some pecuniary at- 

 traction leads me citywards. No ; if I am to take a 

 stroll let it be along Piccadilly for choice, the main 

 artery through which circulates the very lifers blood of 

 London society. 



In what other city in the universe will you find so 

 grand a highway, leading to so glorious an end as 

 Hyde Park ? — seen at its greatest advantage at the 

 moment when " the icy fang and churlish chiding of 

 the winter^s wind '' have given way to the softer gales 

 of mild ethereal spring; the occasion the meeting of 

 the Coaching Club at their customary trysting-place 

 on the banks of the Serpentine. 



To one who has persistently polished the pavement 

 of Piccadilly for a period approaching half a century, 

 how patent is the fact that '' All the world's a stage, 

 and all the men and women merely players,'^ who, 

 after performing their brief parts in the drama of life, 

 make their " Exits,'' and straightway are forgotten ? 

 Else, as I journeyed on my way I should have seen. 



