ToC Saint Giles's Round-house was an old detached fabric, standing in an angle of Kendrick Yard. On his return to London, he found that applications had been made from a somewhat doubtful quarter by two individuals, for the posts of subordinate officers in his troop. "Aw, piffle!" he said, half aloud and rather disgustedly, as he stepped out into the sunshine. I've got to know why. Before retracing his steps, however, he allowed his gaze to range over the vast and beautiful prospect spread out beneath him, which is now hidden, from the traveller's view by the high walls of the General Cemetery, and can, consequently, only be commanded from the interior of that attractive place of burial,—and which, before it was intersected by canals and railroads, and portioned out into hippodromes, was exquisite indeed.
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