the chorus of laughter, till the echo died away in the royal box. At
the end of the third act, coffee was handed round to the court circle;
and precisely at eleven the performances finished,--and the flambeaux
gleamed through the dimly-lighted streets of Windsor, as the happy
family returned to their tranquil home.

There was occasionally a good deal of merriment going forward at
Windsor in these olden days. I have a dim recollection of having danced
in the little garden which was once the moat of the Round Tower, and
which Washington Irving has been pleased to imagine existed in the time
of James I. of Scotland. I have a perfect remembrance of a fête at
Frogmore, about the beginning of the present century, where there was a
Dutch fair,--and haymaking very agreeably performed in white kid gloves
by the belles of the town,--and the buck-basket scene of the "Merry
Wives of Windsor" represented by Fawcett and Mrs. Mattocks, and I think
Mrs. Gibbs, under the colonnade of the house in the open day--and
variegated lamps--and transparencies--and tea served out in tents, with
a magnificent scramble for the bread and butter. There was great good
humour and freedom on all these occasions; and if the grass was damp
and the young ladies caught cold, and the sandwiches were scarce, and
the gentlemen went home hungry--I am sure these little drawbacks were
not to be imputed to the royal entertainers, who delighted to see their
neighbours and dependants happy and joyous.

A few years passed over my head, and the scene was somewhat changed.
The king and his family migrated from their little lodge into the old
and spacious castle. This was about 1804. The lath and plaster of Sir
William Chambers was abandoned to the equerries and chance visiters of
the court; and the low rooms and dark passages that had scarcely been
tenanted since the days of Anne, were made tolerably habitable by the