CONCERT TICKET
The day being fine, they agreed to walk to Highgate and to dine at the ordinary there. On the way they were beset by beggars in immense numbers. They arrived at Highgate just in time for the dinner—probably at two o'clock. The company consisted principally of reputable tradesmen and their families. There was an Italian musician, a gallery reporter—that is, a man who attended the House and wrote down the debates from memory—and a lawyer's clerk. The ordinary consisted of two or three dishes and cost a shilling each. They had a bottle of wine and sat till three o'clock, when they left the tavern and walked to Primrose Hill. Here they met an acquaintance in the shape of an Eastcheap cheesemonger, who was dragging his children in a four-wheel chaise up the hill, while his wife carried the good man's wig and hat on the point of his walking-stick. The hill was crowded with people of all kinds.
When they had seen enough they came away and walked to the top of Hampstead Hill. Here, at the famous Spaniard's, they rested and took a bottle of port.
It was five o'clock in the afternoon when they left Hampstead and made for Islington, intending to see the White Conduit House on their way to the Surrey side.
All these gardens—to leave these travellers for a moment—Ranelagh, Vauxhall, Bagnigge Wells, and the rest, were alike. They contained a concert and a promenade room, a garden laid out in pleasing walks, a fish-pond with arbors, and rooms for suppers, a fountain, a band of music, and a dancing-floor. The amusements of Ranelagh are thus described by a visitor who dropped into verse:
"To Ranelagh, once in my life,
By good-natured force I was driven;
The nations had ceased from their strife,
And peace beamed her radiance from heaven.
"(I stop to apologize for these two lines; but everybody knows that strife and heaven are very neat rhymes of life and driven. Otherwise I admit that they have nothing to do with Ranelagh.)
"What wonders were there to be found
That a clown might enjoy or disdain?
First we traced the gay circle around,
And then we went round it again.
"A thousand feet rustled on mats—
A carpet that once had been green;
Men bowed with their outlandish hats,
With women so fearfully keen.
Fair maids, who, at home in their haste,
Had left all their clothes but a train,
Swept the floor clean as they passed,
Then walked round and swept it again."