and learned to realise the majesty of the law. Then there
was an immense dragon kept in St. Andrew's Hall, and it was a wonder to
all as he was dragged forth from his retirement, and made the rounds of
the streets with his red eyes, his green scales, his awful tail. I know
not whether that old dragon still survives. I fear the Reformers, who
were needlessly active in such matters, abolished him. But the sight of
sights I saw during my short residence at Norwich was that of the
chairing of the M.P.'s. I forget who they were; I remember they had red
faces, gorgeous dresses, and silk stockings. Norwich was a corrupt
place, and a large number of electors were to be bought, and unless they
were bought no M.P. had a chance of being returned. The consequence was
party feeling ran very high, and the defeated party were usually angry,
as they were sure to contend that they had been beaten not by honest
voting, but by means of bribery and corruption, and thus when the
chairing took place there was often not a little rioting, and voters
inflamed with beer were always ready for a row. The fortunate M.P.'s
thus on chairing days were exposed to not a little danger. The chairs in
which they were seated, adorned with the colours of the party, were borne
by strapping fellows quite able to defend themselves, and every now and
then ready to give a heave somewhat dangerous to the seat-holder, who all
the time had to preserve a smiling face and bow to the ladies who lined
the windows of the street through which the procession passed, and to
look as if he liked it rather than not. The sight, however, I fancy,
afforded more amusement to the spectators than to the M.P.'s, who were
glad when it was over, and who had indeed every right to be, for there
was always the chance of a collision with a hostile mob, and a
_denouement_ anything but agreeable. But, perhaps, the sight of sights
was Norwich Market on Christmas Day, and the Norwich coaches starting for
London crammed with turkeys outside and in, and only leaving room for the
driver and the guard. At that time London was chiefly supplied with its
turkeys from Norfolk, and it was only by means of stage coaches that the
popular poultry could be conveyed. In this respect Norwich has suffered,
for London now draws its Christmas supplies from all the Continent. It
was not so when I was a lad, but from all I can hear Norwich Market Place
the Saturday before Christmas is as largely patro