their unexpected meeting opposite St. Martin’s Church (close at hand on the north, at the corner of St. Martin’s Lane), when Martha listened at the door.

“In those days there was a side entrance” (Duncannon Street, now appropriated by the London and North-Western Railway Company) “nearly opposite to where we stood.  I pointed out the gateway, put my arm through his, and we went across.  Two or three public rooms opened out of the stable-yard; and looking into one of them, and finding it empty, and a good fire burning, I took him in there.”

Opposite the principal entrance of The Golden Cross is Craven Street, leading to the Thames Embankment.  It now mainly consists of private hotels and boarding-houses, at which visitors to London may be conveniently accommodated on reasonable terms.  In the days of Oliver Twist these were, for the most part, private houses; and here was Mr. Brownlow’s Residence—taken after his removal from Pentonville—in which was the back parlour where full confession was extorted from Monks, alias Edward Leeford.  The house, No. 39 (now Barnett’s Private Hotel), centrally situated on the east side, is stated to have been assigned as the residence aforesaid.

On the south side of the Strand we immediately reach the Charing Cross Terminus of the South-Eastern Railway, built on the site of old Hungerford Market.  At No. 30 Hungerford Stairs, at the back of this locality, Charles Dickens, when a lad, did duty at the Blacking Manufactory of a relative, by name James Lamert, at a salary of six or seven shillings a week, as his first employment in life.  It was the last house on the left-hand side of the way, a crazy, tumble-down old place abutting on the river.  Here his work was to cover and label the pots of paste-blacking.  To this episode of his youthful experience he refers in the history of “David Copperfield,” chapter 11, David becoming “a labouring hind” in the service of Messrs. Murdstone and Grinby.  In old Hungerford Market, too, was The Chandler’s Shop over which Mr. Peggotty slept on the night of his first arrival in London; the bedroom being afterwards appropriated by Mr. Dick.

“There was a low wooden colonnade before the door, which pleased Mr. Dick mightily.  The glory of lodging over this structure would have compensated him for many inconveniences. . . .  He was perfectly charmed with his accommodation.  Mrs. Crupp had indignantly assured him that there wasn’t room to swing a cat there; but, as Mr. Dick justly observed, ‘You know, Trotwood, I don’t want to swing a cat.  I never do swing a cat.  Therefore, what does that signify to me!’”—See “Copperfield,” chapters 32 and 35.

Hungerford is also mentioned in the same book (chapter 57) as the place where, previous to their departure for Australia, the Micawber Family had lodgings “in a little, dirty, tumble-down public-house, which in those days was close to the stairs, and whose protruding wooden rooms overhung the river.”

By a parallel street near at hand (next turning on the left of the Strand—Agar Street) we come into Chandos Street, where are situated the large stores of the Civil Service Supply Association, which, during recent years, have been enlarged, extending westward in Chandos Street.  This extension occupies the former site of No. 3, whilom a chemist’s shop, kept by a Mr. Wellspring.  Here, in the days that are gone, was established a second warehouse of Lamert’s blacking trade, the business being removed in course of time to this address; and here Dickens, with other lads, was often busily employed near the window.  They acquired such dexterity in finishing off the pots, that many persons would stand outside, looking on with interest at the performance.

On the opposite side of Chandos Street is Bedfordbury—a northward thoroughfare leading to New Street, Covent Garden—on the right of which stands a range of five large five-storied blocks known as Peabody’s Buildings.  These afford respectable accommodation for artizans.  This was the locality of Tom All-Alone’s, that wretched rookery of evil repute in the days of Poor Joe, as described in chapter 16 of “Bleak House.”  But, in these degenerate times, the black, dilapidated streets and tumbling tenements have given place to wholesome dwellings, and the neighbourhood is associated with the name of a great American philanthropist.

Returning to the south side of the Strand, we next come to Buckingham Street (turning on right, by No. 37), at the end house of which, on the right, facing the river, was the top set of chambers in the Adelphi, consisting of

“A little half-blind entry, where you could hardly see anything, a little stone-blind pantry, where you could see nothing at all, a sitting-room and a bedroom.”

Here David Copperfield for some time resided under the housekeeping supervision of Mrs. Crupp, and the residence was afterwards shared by Miss Betsy Trotwood.  At the next turning in the Strand—by No. 64, same side of the way—we arrive at Durham Street, which leads to the no thoroughfare of The Adelphi Arches, about and through which the lad Charles Dickens loved in his leisure time to roam.  David Copperfield says—

“I was fond of wandering about the Adelphi, because it was a mysterious place, with those dark arches.  I see myself emerging one evening from one of these arches, on a little public-house, close to the river, with an open space before it, where some coal-heavers were dancing.”

Of this place more anon.

Continuing our onward journey, we come to Adam Street (right-hand turning by No. 72), looking down which may be seen, at the corner of John Street, The Adelphi Hotel.  This hotel was known in the days of Pickwick as Osborn’s Hotel, Adelphi.  To this establishment, it will be remembered, came Mr. Wardle, visiting London with his daughter Emily, after Mr. Pickwick’s release from the Fleet Prison, also accompanied by his trusty retainer, the fat boy, Joe.  The last plate but one in the book illustrates the plan adopted by Mary when inducing that intelligent youth to observe a discreet silence as to the visit of Mr. Snodgrass to his young mistress at this hotel; and we may recollect the contretemps which afterwards took place here at dinner-time, involving the detention of the clandestine lover, and resulting in a very satisfactory dénouement.—See “Pickwick,” chapter 54.

Passing the next block onwards, we arrive at the handsome frontage of the Hotel Cecil.  In former days, at western corner of same, close to No. 75, there existed a narrow and precipitous passage which was formerly the approach to the halfpenny boats.  It led to a little public-house, “The Fox-under-the-Hill,” for a long time shut up and in ruinous condition—once situated on the water-side, the site of which is now covered by the west wing of the Hotel Cecil.

This place is spoken of in Mr. Forster’s Biography as being one of our author’s favourite localities, and referred to in “Copperfield,” as before mentioned, in connection with the Adelphi Arches.  This, then, was doubtless the tavern at which Martin Chuzzlewit, junr., was