" at the "bacca box." At night, Greenwich is all alive--life is
out of London and in the fair. But let the traveller who has to return
to town beware. The road is full of horses and vehicles, driven by
drunken men and boys; and, for four or five miles, you can imagine that
a city is besieged, and that the inhabitants are flying from the sword.
O, such weary-looking children as we saw that day! One favorite
amusement was to draw a little wooden instrument quick over the coat of
another person, when it produces a noise precisely like that of a torn
garment. Hundreds of these machines were in the hands of the urchins who
crowded the Park. Here, for the first time, I saw the veritable gypsy of
whose race we have read so much in Borrow's Zincali. The women are very
fine looking, and some of the girls were exquisitely beautiful. They are
a swarthy-looking set, and seem to be a cross of Indian and Jew. Those
we saw were proper wiry-looking fellows. One or two of the men were
nattily dressed, with fancy silk handkerchiefs. They live in tents, and
migrate through the midland counties, but I believe are not as numerous
as they were thirty years ago. You will not soon forget how we were
pleased with the memoirs of Bamfield Moore Carew, who was once known as
their king in Great Britain. I wonder that book has never been reprinted
in America. I am pretty sure that Greenwich Park would please your
taste. I think the view from the Royal Observatory, and from whence
longitude is reckoned, is one of the grandest I have ever seen. You get
a fine view of the noble palace once the royal residence, but now the
Sailor's Home. You see the Thames, with its immense burden, and, through
the mist, the great city. As to the Hospital, we shall leave that for
another excursion: we came to Greenwich at present merely to witness
Easter Fair, and it will not soon be forgotten by any of us.

Yours, &c.,

JAMES.

Letter 7.

BRISTOL.

DEAR CHARLEY:--

As we had a few days to spare before the exhibition opened, we proposed
to run down to Bristol and Bath, and pass a week. We took the Great
Western train first-class ears, and made the journey of one hundred and
twenty miles in two hours and forty minutes. This is the perfection of
travelling. The cars are very commodious, holding eight persons, each
having a nicely-cushioned chair. The rail is the broad gage; and we
hardly felt the motion, so excellent is the road. The country through
which