or four schoolboys on a stolen bathing expedition rattle merrily
over the pavement, their boisterous mirth contrasting forcibly with the
demeanour of the little sweep, who, having knocked and rung till his arm
aches, and being interdicted by a merciful legislature from endangering
his lungs by calling out, sits patiently down on the door-step, until the
housemaid may happen to awake.

Covent-garden market, and the avenues leading to it, are thronged with
carts of all sorts, sizes, and descriptions, from the heavy lumbering
waggon, with its four stout horses, to the jingling costermonger's cart,
with its consumptive donkey. The pavement is already strewed with
decayed cabbage-leaves, broken hay-bands, and all the indescribable
litter of a vegetable market; men are shouting, carts backing, horses
neighing, boys fighting, basket-women talking, piemen expatiating on the
excellence of their pastry, and donkeys braying. These and a hundred
other sounds form a compound discordant enough to a Londoner's ears, and
remarkably disagreeable to those of country gentlemen who are sleeping at
the Hummums for the first time.

Another hour passes away, and the day begins in good earnest. The
servant of all work, who, under the plea of sleeping very soundly, has
utterly disregarded 'Missis's' ringing for half an hour previously, is
warned by Master (whom Missis has sent up in his drapery to the
landing-place for that purpose), that it's half-past six, whereupon she
awakes all of a sudden, with well-feigned astonishment, and goes
down-stairs very sulkily, wishing, while she strikes a light, that the
principle of spontaneous combustion would extend itself to coals and
kitchen range. When the fire is lighted, she opens the street-door to
take in the milk, when, by the most singular coincidence in the world,
she discovers that the servant next door has just taken in her milk too,
and that Mr. Todd's young man over the way, is, by an equally
extraordinary chance, taking down his master's shutters. The inevitable
consequence is, that she just steps, milk-jug in hand, as far as next
door, just to say 'good morning' to Betsy Clark, and that Mr. Todd's
young man just steps over the way to say 'good morning' to both of 'em;
and as the aforesaid Mr. Todd's young man is almost as good-looking and
fascinating as the baker himself, the conversation quickly becomes very
interesting, and probably would become more so, if Betsy Clark's Missis,
who