of carts came from Newgate in
the City, laden with men, women, boys, and girls, followed by an excited
crowd eager to watch the execution. Round the gallows galleries were
erected and let out at high cost to fashionable folk--fine ladies and
gay gallants all ready for the show. Happily humanity has made progress
in the last century, and such dreadful sights have long been done away
with.

William III., like most of his Dutch relations, was a great gardener,
and cut quite a large slice out of Hyde Park to improve the gardens of
Kensington Palace, where he and Queen Mary made their home. At the same
time he made a great many improvements in the actual park, although for
the Serpentine we have to thank Queen Caroline, wife of George II.

Since then Hyde Park has always been the playground of the rank and
fashion of the United Kingdom, and nowhere else in England can such
numbers of magnificent carriages and horses be seen as here in the
season. The alleys bordering the drives are filled on summer afternoons
with thousands of well-dressed people--many perhaps admiring the
splendid clumps of rhododendrons, which form one of the sights of the
park in early summer. The rich, too, are not the only people who
appreciate this national playing-place. Thousands of poorly-clad women
bring their white-faced children from crowded courts and alleys to enjoy
the fresh air, and unlimited room in which to play.

Turn where we will, Hyde Park is, in our times, a scene of peaceful rest
both of body and mind for weary citizens. Yet matters far less suitable
to its beautiful surroundings have often disturbed its peace. In the
days of duelling, the north side beneath the trees was a favourite place
of meeting. Here on a Sunday in 1712, the first Duke of Hamilton, a
statesman who could ill be spared by his country, engaged Lord Mohun,
and both adversaries were carried dead from the field.

As we stand on the bridge, looking down and watching the quiet water,
with all its living things, and the rabbits in their corner, it seems
hard to believe that we are in the midst of a maze of human dwellings,
and that miles and miles of busy streets surround us. But pause and
listen awhile, and you will hear, above the music of the birds, the ring
of voices and echoes of children's laughter, above the dull hum of
well-hung carriages and pattering of horses' feet, a never-ending
roar--the sound of the greatest city the world has ever seen. All round
us,