After the usual introductions, greetings and reception of instructions, I accompanied the committee on shore at Gravesend, where quite an ovation was given us amid cries of “Welcome to old England” and “three cheers for Bill,” which gave pleasing evidence of the public interest that had been awakened in our coming.
A special train of saloon carriages was waiting to convey us to London and we soon left the quaint old Kentish town behind us, and in an hour we arrived at Victoria station. The high road-bed of the railroad, which runs level with the chimney tops, was a novel sight, as we scurried along through what seemed to be an endless sea of habitation, and I have scarcely yet found out where Gravesend finishes and London commences, so dense is the population of the suburbs off the “boss village” of the British Isles, and so numerous the small towns through which we passed. The impression created by the grand Victoria station, by the underground railroad, the strange sights and busy scenes of the “West End,” the hustle and the bustle of a first evening view of mighty London, would alone make a chapter.
My first opinion of the streets was that they were sufficiently lively and noisy to have alarmed all the dogs in