graceful and pleasant in line as a Wessex waggon. We got in, Dick
and I. The girls, who had come into the porch to see us off, waved
their hands to us; the weaver nodded kindly; the dustman bowed as
gracefully as a troubadour; Dick shook the reins, and we were off.



CHAPTER IV: A MARKET BY THE WAY



We turned away from the river at once, and were soon in the main road
that runs through Hammersmith. But I should have had no guess as to
where I was, if I had not started from the waterside; for King Street
was gone, and the highway ran through wide sunny meadows and garden-
like tillage. The Creek, which we crossed at once, had been rescued
from its culvert, and as we went over its pretty bridge we saw its
waters, yet swollen by the tide, covered with gay boats of different
sizes. There were houses about, some on the road, some amongst the
fields with pleasant lanes leading down to them, and each surrounded
by a teeming garden. They were all pretty in design, and as solid as
might be, but countryfied in appearance, like yeomen's dwellings;
some of them of red brick like those by the river, but more of timber
and plaster, which were by the necessity of their construction so
like mediaeval houses of the same materials that I fairly felt as if
I were alive in the fourteenth century; a sensation helped out by the
costume of the people that we met or passed, in whose dress there was
nothing "modern." Almost everybody was gaily dressed, but especially
the women, who were so well-looking, or even so handsome, that I
could scarcely refrain my tongue from calling my companion's