It Was Found To Be A Very Tight Fit, But Just A Possibility, And No More-- As I Am Reminded Every Day, By The Sight Of Various Large Holes Which It Punched In The Walls On Either Side As It Came Along.

We are more fortunate, I am told, than an old lady, who took a house in these parts not

Long ago, and who stuck fast in HER carriage in a lane; and as it was impossible to open one of the doors, she was obliged to submit to the indignity of being hauled through one of the little front windows, like a harlequin.

When you have got through these narrow lanes, you come to an archway, imperfectly stopped up by a rusty old gate--my gate. The rusty old gate has a bell to correspond, which you ring as long as you like, and which nobody answers, as it has no connection whatever with the house. But there is a rusty old knocker, too-- very loose, so that it slides round when you touch it--and if you learn the trick of it, and knock long enough, somebody comes. The brave Courier comes, and gives you admittance. You walk into a seedy little garden, all wild and weedy, from which the vineyard opens; cross it, enter a square hall like a cellar, walk up a cracked marble staircase, and pass into a most enormous room with a vaulted roof and whitewashed walls: not unlike a great Methodist chapel.

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