on to the lovely river Lea (where old Isaak Walton used to fish, you
know) about the places called Stratford and Old Ford, names which of
course you will not have heard of, though the Romans were busy there
once upon a time."

Not heard of them! thought I to myself. How strange! that I who had
seen the very last remnant of the pleasantness of the meadows by the
Lea destroyed, should have heard them spoken of with pleasantness
come back to them in full measure.

Hammond went on: "When you get down to the Thames side you come on
the Docks, which are works of the nineteenth century, and are still
in use, although not so thronged as they once were, since we
discourage centralisation all we can, and we have long ago dropped
the pretension to be the market of the world. About these Docks are
a good few houses, which, however, are not inhabited by many people
permanently; I mean, those who use them come and go a good deal, the
place being too low and marshy for pleasant dwelling. Past the Docks
eastward and landward it is all flat pasture, once marsh, except for
a few gardens, and there are very few permanent dwellings there:
scarcely anything but a few sheds, and cots for the men who come to
look after the great herds of cattle pasturing there. But however,
what with the beasts and the men, and the scattered red-tiled roofs
and the big hayricks, it does not make a bad holiday to get a quiet
pony and ride about there on a sunny afternoon of autumn, and look
over the river and the craft passing up and down, and on to Shooters'
Hill and the Kentish uplands, and then turn round to the wide green
sea of the Essex marsh-land, with the great domed line of the sky,
and the sun shining down in one flood of peaceful light over the long
distance. There is a place called Canning's Town, and further out,