ield House, which
stands at the corner of Whitefield-lane and Boundary-lane. At that time
there was not a house near it for some distance. Boundary-lane was a
narrow, rutted road, with a hedge and a ditch on each side, while the
footpath--on one side only--was in a most miserable condition. There was
then adjoining West Derby-road a large strawberry garden, which in summer
time was the resort of pleasure-seekers, and it was the only approach to
neighbourship along the whole length of the lane.

On leaving Whitefield House the night proved so intensely dark that my
young friend found himself quite bewildered, and scarcely know whether to
turn to the right or the left, being unacquainted with the locality.
Fortunately turning to the right, he stumbled along the miserable road,
and with the utmost difficulty made his way onward, but not without
misgivings of being knocked down and robbed, as there had been several
daring attacks made upon people at night in that vicinity. He fervently
wished himself in Liverpool, but shortly arriving at the West Derby-road
he began to understand his "whereabouts." Having proceeded a few yards,
a carriage passed him driven by a postilion. There was an unoccupied
dicky behind, which my young friend thought it seemed a pity not to
appropriate. Quick as youth and activity prompted, he climbed upon the
carriage with the notion of the Dutchman "that it was better to ride than
walk," and found his condition materially benefited by being carried
through the darkness of the night instead of walking. When the carriage
reached the London-road my friend thought it was time to alight, as he
was then near home; but to his dismay he found that, although it was very
easy to get up, it was not very easy to get down in safety. On he went
with the carriage until it arrived at Lime-street, and began to turn down
Roe-street, which was a good mile from my friend's lodgings. What was to
be done? A bold thought struck him. "Hallo, hallo! I'll get down
here!" he cried. Upon this the postilion pulled up short, when down came
the window of the carriage, and an inquiry from it took place as to the
reason of the stoppage. My friend had by this time managed to drop off
his perch, when he found the head protruding was that of the excellent
lessee of the Theatre Royal, Mr. Lewis. As he was quite as polite a man
as the worthy lessee himself, on finding to whom he had been indebted for
his ride, he made a ve