rom one of the
upper-most windows of the "Bull Inn" (the place where Charles Dickens
once lived, and which he has immortalized in the pages of "Pickwick"),
which is immediately opposite. A little higher up the street is a large
vane, richly decorated in red and gold, on the Corn Exchange. An
inscription on its south-west face tells us that "This present building
was erected at the sole charge and expense of Sir Cloudsley Shovel,
Knight, A.D. 1706. He represented this city in three Parliaments in the
reign of King William the Third, and in one Parliament in the reign of
Queen Anne."

[Illustration: On ye Church]

Maidstone, too, is rich in vanes. There is one specially you can see
from all parts of the town. It is on the Medway Brewery, and represents
an old brown jug and glass; its dimensions, to say the least of it, are
somewhat startling. The jug alone (which is made of beaten copper plate)
is 3 ft. 6 in. in height, and in its fullest part 3 ft. in diameter,
with a holding capacity of 108 gallons, or three barrels. The
glass--also made of copper--is capable of holding some eight gallons.
The vane revolves on ball bearings, its height above the roof is 12 ft.,
its arms extend nearly 7 ft., the whole, I am told, standing 80 ft. from
the ground.

On the observatory connected with the Maidstone Museum (which latter was
once Chillington Manor House) is a modern vane, much discoloured by
damp, but very apt in design; note the perforated sun, moon and stars,
and the three wavy-looking pointers, which I take to represent rays of
light. Mr. Frederick James, the courteous curator, called my attention
to a singularly fine wrought-iron vane, now preserved in the Museum,
about which but little is known, but which may possibly have surmounted
the place in the olden days--when Chillington Manor was the seat of the
great Cobham family.

[Illustration: On Town Hall]

[Illustration: At Maidstone

W. Hogg. 1892.]

Space forbids my more than just calling attention to the nondescript
gilt monster, with its riveted wings and forked tongue and tail, which
glares down on us from its perch above the Town Hall, in the High
Street; or to a "cigar" vane (over 2 ft. long and as thick as a
bludgeon), large enough to give Verdant Green's famous "smoke" many
points, hoisted over an enterprising tobacconist's a little lower down;
or to the skewered and unhappy-looking weathercock on the Parish Church;
or the blackened griffin in Earl Street