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COCKNEY VILLAS.

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cloudless canopy when the air, denser than the rest, told of the myriad-voiced city, the eye beheld faint outlines of houses, churches, and manufactories confusedly blended together. Wind-mills revolved rapidly, and the agitation caused by the numerous bodies replete with life or motion seemed to reach the skies. The dome of St. Paul's on one side, and the pinnacled towers of Westminster Abbey on the other, seemed secure in their elevation, to regard serenely the busy insects beneath.

Meanwhile, as I walked along, the comfortable boxes of the cits claimed a share of my attention; and by the brass plates at the gate, or white paint on a green or black board, as the case might be, I was duly informed, not only who was the proprietor of the subjoined domicile, but the title it bore in the archives of the worthy owner. I was thereby enabled to come to the conclusion that houses bore the name of the occupier; places that of a member of the royal family, a peer, or cabinet minister; park, something in reference to scenic beauty; but lodge takes the widest range, being confined to no particular class or order, and owing its cognomen to the whim or taste of its proprietor.

Par example:-A shape like a soup-tureen, guarded by salt-cellars, and set off with ranges of passages that lead to nothing, and tall clumps of chimneys to rank it of the true Elizabethan style, claimed my notice, and likewise that of the

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rest of his Majesty's liege subjects as "Appleby House," " Henry Appleby, Esq., owner," "Office, Cornhill." Now the avenue leading from this gate, the lodge of which was something in the form of an egg-cup reversed, may have been full fifty yards more or less, and on either side, was a row of dwarf box, four inches three-eighths high; then came evergreens, wall flowers, and minor shrubs, a rolling stone, and a watering pot, and Appleby House is described.

Clarence-Place came next, and was the commencement of a succession of 'Places:' Gloucesterplace, Chester-place,Grenville-place followed. Lines of houses, a basement and upper story, doric pillars at the door way, and four feet square ground, railed off most symmetrically, completed the coup-d'œil.

How shall I venture to describe Cowslip-park? Turner! your paint brush-Stanfield! your pencil: what a subject for a transfer to your canvass! How you would luxuriate in dotting off the daisies, or arranging in beautiful disorder the tortuous windings of an infant rose-bush, such being all the growth of timber that greeted my sight, in the miniature demesne of Cowslip-park. The house itself was an index of the maiden ladies who resided within its virgin precincts: white as the unstained snow, the walls presented their petite proportions; the glass of the windows, like the chaste minds of the residents, without a stain. Could I say more of Cowslip-park?

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Lodge, thou art a puzzle! What Lodge shall I present as a type of the many which surround me? Harmony-lodge, where the music-master lives; Mazurka-lodge, the abode of the dancing master; Tuscan-lodge, the residence of the dentist; all are appropriate, neat, compact, and set made, like Lord J. R. I shall not cause envy by particularizing any, but treat them all generally.

A lodge-when not a porter's lodge (which I presume every body knows to mean the abode of the gate keeper, usually, and properly built near the gate, for the convenience of the porter to give the entré and exit to his master's guests), is commonly understood to mean a diminutive habitation, where there are no saloons, forty feet by thirty, no bed chambers twenty-five feet from the ceiling to the floor, everything on a small scale, literally multum in parvo. Lodges are pleasant residences for single men, but rarely for married; because, though man and wife are but one, it is sometimes convenient to have two rooms, and children are such a bore in a small house, and take up so much space when they increase, and multiply, that I really shudder when I hear of Mrs. and Mrs. Such-a-one taking that most delightful residence, called "Hymeneal-lodge."

After passing city-ward through Vauxhall turnpike if you proceed on straight towards the Bishop's palace at Lambeth, keeping close by the sooty Thames, your eye rests for a moment on the black dingy walls of what once was a red brick house,

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occupying the space from the street to the river, and the sight as if anxious to shut out so disagreeable an object, passes it with a glance: not so, however, the inquisitive mind; for this was the mansion of Guy Vaux or Faux, of Gunpowder-plot notoriety.

I have been told (I do not vouch my authority as being quite conclusive) that this residence gave the name to the most celebrated place of amusement, perhaps in the world, Vauxhall Gardens. Certainly it is very probable that an extensive portion of ground, perhaps comprising the entire of that occupied at present by the gardens, may have been attached to the dwelling; for we are aware, that though now in the suburbs, it was once some miles from London, and large ornamental plantations encircle the habitations of wealthy men in the vicinity of the metropolis even at the present day if so with such an increase of population, what may not have been the extent two hundred years ago?

CHAPTER XI.

Changing quarters-Dr. Johnson on town life versus country -A genuine Irish bull-Cab-driver-Moorfields chapelGreenwich-My stud-A big leap-Elephant and CastleLondon a Babel-Greenwich Hospital-Park--Sports of the fair-Return steam-boat-The Tower-Custom House Charity ball.

Monday 21st.

PACKING up! What a cheerless employment when preparing for a removal from one house to another. Busy mortals! why cannot we remain where we are? Restless! fond of novelty, of variety, we get tired of one situation and shift to another. The whole two months I passed in the quiet retreat I had retired to, from the bustle and distraction of the mighty city, came at a retrospective glance before my eyes, smooth and tranquil as a mirror-like stream, and I, like a swallow, hovering on its surface, was now preparing to migrate. Where? Into the centre of that very turmoil, the vortex of which I was before so glad to retire from.

VOL. I.

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