of wall space now covered with portraits of the novelist and his
memorable characters, pictures of scenes from his books, Dickensian
relics and knicknacks, either associated with the book which brought
it fame or with other books of the famous Boz. In a word, it is
a veritable Dickens museum, in which every lover of the novelist
lingers with pleasure and amazement, oblivious of the fact that
possibly his tea is getting cold.

Here the visitor can have his meal as did Mr. Tupman, not perhaps
in such solitude, for the "Leather Bottle" to-day is often a busy
centre for pedestrians from the neighbouring villages, and cyclists
and motorists from far-distant towns and cities.

Upstairs, overlooking the churchyard, is the identical front bedroom
where Mr. Pickwick spent the night, and where he sat reading long
into the early and eerie hours of the morning. The present landlord
is a true Dickensian in knowledge and character, and endeavours to
make everybody comfortable and welcome, no matter who he be. A
glance at the visitors' book will show how the inn has been sought
out by every grade of society from all over the world. Indeed, we
doubt if Shakespeare's birthplace can surpass this inn in popularity.

[illustration: The Coffee Room, "Leather Bottle," Cobham,
Kent. From a photograph]

But it is not merely a Pickwickian inn. It is a Dickensian inn for
which the novelist himself had a warm place in his heart for its
own sake, spending many pleasant hours within its comfortable
walls. Long before he came to live at Gad's Hill, close by, he
loved the place. As a boy at Chatham, probably he walked over