(from the chimney-tops) have been to our mustachioed and be-whiskered
dandies, who, instead of apologizing to a female after they may have
splashed her from head to foot, trod on her heel, or nearly carried away
her bonnet, feathers, cap, and wig, only add to her confusion by an
unmanly, impudent stare or sneer!

But to the Garden again. I like it much; it is replete with humour, fun,
and drollery; it contributes a handsome revenue to the pocket of his
Grace the Duke of Bedford, besides supplying half the town with cabbages
and melons, (the richest Melon on record came from Covent-Garden, and was
graciously presented to our gracious sovereign.)

The south side appears to be devoted to potatoes, a useful esculent, and
of greater use to the poor than all the melons in christendom. Here
kidneys and champions are to be seen from Scotland, York, and Kent; and
here have I observed the haggard forms of withered women

"In rags and tatters, friendless and forlorn,"

creeping from shop to shop, bargaining for "a good pen'orth of the best
boilers;" and here have I often watched the sturdy Irishman walking with
a regular connoisseur's eye, peeping out _above_ a short pipe, and
_below_ a narrow-brimmed hat,--a perfect, keen, twinkling, connoisseur's
eye, critically examining every basket for the best lot of his _own
peculiar_.

Now let us take a retrospective view of this our noble theme, and our
interest will be the more strengthened thereon. All the world knows that
a convent stood in this neighbourhood, and the present market was the
garden, _undè_ Convent Garden; would that all etymologists were as