his singular appellation is likely to remain an unsolved
problem to the end of time.

Most probably those great satirists, street denominators, had branded
it with this title in ridicule, for anything further removed from the
mythological meadows could not possibly be conceived, even by the most
sanguine temperament. True, there was a market garden or two, and
odors redolent of decaying vegetables; but, on the whole, it was
rather an unsavory region, and much frequented by the costermonger and
fishwoman.

The Elysian Fields were divided and subdivided into streets, rows, and
alleys; some respectable, others semi-genteel, but in most cases to be
defined by the three degrees of comparison--dingy, dingier, most
dingy; and it was under the comparative degree that a certain street,
known by the name of Beulah Place, must be classed.

It was a long narrow street, not differing much from the others that
ran parallel with it, except in a general air of retirement and
obscurity, owing to a "No Thoroughfare" placarded up on the blank wall
of a brewery, which had rather a depressing effect on the end houses
that looked full on it.

There was little that was noticeable about the street except its
name--for here again the satirists had sharpened their wits, and
Beulah Place looked down in conscious superiority on Paradise Row.

In conscious superiority indeed--for had not Beulah Place this
distinction, that its houses were garnished with imposing flights of
steps and a railed-in area, while Paradise Row opened its doors
directly on the pavement?

Therefore Beulah Place noted itself eminently respectable, and put on
airs; let its front and back parlors to single gentlemen or widows;
and looked over its wire blinds in superb disdain at the
umbrella-mender, or genteel dressmaker who lived opposite.

At the extreme corner of Beulah Place, with its one glass eye peering
down High Street, was Mrs. Watkins, tea merchant and Italian
warehouseman--at least, so ran the gilt-lettered inscription, which
had been put up over the door in the days of her predecessor, and had
remained there ever since. But it was in reality an all-sorts shop,
where nearly everything edible could be procured, and to betray
ignorance of Mrs. Watkins was to betray ignorance not only of Beulah
Place, but of the whole of the Elysian Fields.

To be sure the long window aided the deception, and was fitted up
solely with goods in the grocery line; but enter the d