IN AND ABOUT BATH 283 



on to the town. Socially, Bath has sobered down, 

 and now does not at all strike one as a rendezvous 

 for going the pace. But it always reminds me 

 of ''the Old 'Un," Charles Dickens, and of the 

 Inimitable's sketch, a highly-finished one — no, 

 not of the Pickwickians, Mr Weller, the foot- 

 men, and the swarry, but of another fine word- 

 picture — Flora, of *' Little Dorrit," the voluble 

 and amiable relict of Mr F., with whom gout 

 fiying upwards soared to higher spheres. Look 

 up your ** Little Dorrit," good readers, turn to 

 the description of married life as not romance 

 but solid comfort with any little thing, such as 

 early lamb or asparagus, thrown in. That is 

 the way Bath appeals to me viewed through 

 the windows of the excellent York House Hotel, 

 or Fortt's, best of restaurateurs. Fortt's at 

 Bath and Parker's at Manchester, with Booth's 

 (Fortt's uncle) at Birmingham, are three firms to 

 remember. 



I have pleasant memories, which cannot be 

 too often revived, of most localities indicated by 

 the stations on the Bath line. Glimpses of the 

 Thames, Loddon, and Kennet I find refreshing, 

 and so are peeps at the high downlands all the 

 way down before Didcot, right on to past 

 Chippenham. A great help to filling yourself 

 from bottled-up stores of pleasant outings is to 

 know the highroad as well as the railroad, and 

 in seeking such knowledge I have, I am glad to 

 say, been ever diligent, finding always due reward 

 therefor. Perhaps being still inclined that way 

 accounts for my making the worst of Bath meet- 

 ing to myself, and going fossicking on the line 

 of march instead of haunting the racecourse. 



The end of May is a good time for the 



