graveyard was attached to the Church of St. Mary-le-Strand, and has been closed for many years.  The enclosure was converted into a recreation ground, and formally opened as such by Lady George Hamilton, May 19, 1886, on behalf of the Metropolitan Public Garden Association.  But the entire locality is changed, the “avenging ghost” has ceased to walk, and the “shameful testimony” has ended.

At a short distance in Drury Lane, towards the Strand, we turn (left) by No. 106, into Clare Court, referred to in Forster’s Biography as follows—(C.D. loq.):—

“Once, I remember tucking my own bread (which I had brought from home in the morning) under my arm, wrapped up in a piece of paper like a book, and going into the best dining-room in Johnson’s a la mode beef-house in Clare Court, Drury Lane, and magnificently ordering a small plate of a la mode beef to eat with it.  What the waiter thought of such a strange little apparition, coming in all alone, I don’t know, but I can see him now, staring at me as I ate my dinner, and bringing up the other waiter to look.  I gave him a halfpenny, and I wish now that he hadn’t taken it.”

This episode of the author’s experience as a poor boy in London was reproduced in “David Copperfield,” chapter 11.  The dining-house mentioned then existed (1824) at No. 13 in the court, in a prominent corner position.  It has been unknown to fame for the last thirty years.

Returning by Drury Court to the Strand, and passing on the south side of the church above mentioned, we turn by No. 162a into Strand Lane, where may be visited, at No. 5, The Old Roman Bath referred to by David Copperfield, who says, “In which I have had many a cold plunge.”  (See chapter 35.)  The bath itself is lined with white marble, and dates from the sixteenth century.  It is supplied from an old Roman reservoir adjoining, about 2000 years old.

Passing Surrey Street, just beyond, we come (next on the right) to Norfolk Street, in which there may be noted the former whereabouts of Mrs. Lirriper’s Lodgings; and we may here recall the pleasant associations connected with the Christmas numbers of All the Year Round, 1863 and 1864.  The houses in this street are not enumerated beyond forty-five, all told.  The figures 81, as given in the tale referred to, should be reversed; but sad to relate, No. 18—long standing as an old-fashioned boarding-house on the western side, below Howard Street—has disappeared, and certain modern buildings, offices, etc., recently erected, now occupy the old site.  At a short distance farther on, in a central position in the Strand, stands the church of St. Clement Danes.  It is of interest in this connection as the scene of Mrs. Lirriper’s wedding, some forty years previous to the narration of her business experience; and where she still retained “a sitting in a very pleasant pew, with genteel company, and her own hassock, being partial to evening service, not too crowded.”

Retracing our steps, three minutes, to the Church of St. Mary-le-Strand, again leaving the Strand by Newcastle and Houghton Streets, and turning left and right (leaving Clare Market on the left), we shortly arrive at Portsmouth Street, Lincoln’s Inn Fields.  At No. 14 will be found (for a short time only) a small old-fashioned house, on the front of which is painted an inscription, “The Old Curiosity Shop, Immortalised by Charles Dickens,” now occupied by Mr. H. Poole, dealer in wastepaper.  This is said to be the house assigned by the novelist for the residence of Little Nell and her grandfather, with whose pathetic history we are all familiar—

“One of those receptacles for old and curious things, which seem to crouch in odd corners of this town, and to hide their musty treasures from the public eye in jealousy and distrust.”

It cannot, however, be regarded as absolutely certain that this particular house was the author’s intended “local habitation” for one of the best-known and loved of his creations.  The tale itself concludes with a reference to Kit’s uncertainty as to the whereabouts of the place:—

“The old house had long ago been pulled down, and a fine broad road was in its place.  At first he would draw with his stick a square upon the ground to show them where it used to stand.  But he soon became uncertain of the spot, and could only say it was thereabouts, he thought, and that these alterations were confusing.”

[A lady, personally acquainted with the great novelist, has informed the author that she was once taken by Mr. Dickens to No. 10 Green Street (approaching Leicester Square from the east)—at the corner of Green and Castle Streets, behind the National Gallery—the business of curiosity-dealing being then and there carried on.  Mr. Dickens himself localised this house as the home of little Nell, pointing out an inner room—divided from the shop by a glass partition—as her bedroom.  The premises are now rebuilt.]

At a short distance from this locality, and at an opposite angle of the street, there existed (until 1898) one of the old-fashioned taverns of the metropolis.  The house was noteworthy, with its overhanging front resting on rough wooden pillars, and was named Old George IVth.

It is now replaced by a newly-built house of the same name, in modern style of plate glass, mahogany, and glitter.

It is highly probable that the old tavern represented the location and character of “The Magpie and Stump,” the rendezvous of Mr. Lowten (Perker’s clerk) and other choice spirits in the days of Pickwick.  It is described in the Pickwickian history as being near Clare Market, at the back of New Inn, and to this position the “Old George IVth” will correspond.  Joe Miller, of jocular celebrity, was, aforetime, a frequenter of this establishment, when his quips “were wont to set the table in a roar.”  His seat was still shown in the bar of the old house.  Dickens and Thackeray were also well remembered as visitors to this ancient hostelry.  There is now a “Magpie and Stump” in Fetter Lane, at some distance hence; but it is evident that Dickens transferred the name to a tavern in this neighbourhood.  It will be remembered that here Mr. Pickwick enjoyed an hour’s entertainment, listening to the legends of “those curious old nooks,” the Inns of London, as related by Jack Bamber—see “Pickwick,” chapter 21—also containing a description of the advertisements of the tavern, as then displayed therein.

“In the lower windows, which were decorated with curtains of a saffron hue, dangled two or three printed cards, bearing reference to Devonshire cyder and Dantzic spruce, while a large black board, announcing in white letters to an enlightened public, that there were 500,000 barrels of double stout in the cellars of the establishment, left the mind in a state of not unpleasing doubt and uncertainty as to the precise direction in the bowels of the earth, in which this mighty cavern might be supposed to