By the Way: Travel Letters Written During Several Journeys Abroad

by Agness Greene Foster

LIME WALK, OXFORD

LONDON:

Laurence Hutton says: "London has no associations so interesting as those connected with its literary men." I do not entirely agree with him.

Not half has been told of dear, delightful, dirty, dreary London. I should be the last person to call her dreary, for she put on her best behavior for me, and the sun shone nearly every day those first weeks. It was June:

"And what is so rare as a day in June?"

You will remember that the American statesman-poet wrote the poem containing this line in London.

The first and last place to visit in London is Westminster Abbey. The church is in the form of a Latin cross, and the poets' corner is in the south transept, a wing off the organ-room. When you enter it, you seem to be in a chapel with pews and an altar like any place of worship, but it appears to grow larger as one continues to gaze. The walls and every available space are filled with marble busts or bas-reliefs.

It is worthy of note that Longfellow is the only American whose bust adorns the poets' corner. There is a service of song here every afternoon at four, and the harmony of those sweet voices is yet ringing in my ears.