Gay.
COVENT GARDEN IN 1660.
Come with me for a walk in Covent Garden, you, my country reader, who know not the London of to-day; and you, my friend of the great city, who know not the London of yesterday.
As we pass through the crowded Strand we are so jostled by foot-passengers, and so deafened by the noise of vehicles, passing and repassing, that intercourse between us is impossible, but this quiet by-street will quickly lead us to our destination, and soon we shall find ourselves in front of the famous market.
A low, rambling building fills up the centre space, which is surrounded on three sides by houses. Here, in the very small hours of the morning, the crowds are as dense and the business is as brisk as in the Strand which we have just left behind us, but during the daytime there is little life or bustle about the market. The fruits, vegetables and flowers, which began to arrive at midnight, are already scattered to the four quarters of the great city, and only a few loiterers stand about at the street corners, or employ themselves in desultory fashion in clearing up the refuse.
But you and I are not dependent on market gardeners:
“There is a flower which bloometh
When autumn’s leaves are cast,