oldest inhabitant I wanted to meet with--a very
different kind of individual from Mr. Grewter, who doled out every
answer to my questions as grudgingly as if it had been a five-pound
note.

I was conducted to a snug little sitting-room on the first-floor, where
there was a cheerful fire and a comfortable odour of tea and toast. I
was invited to take a cup of tea; and as I perceived that my acceptance
of the invitation would be accounted a kind of favour, I said yes. The
tea was very weak, and very warm, and very sweet; but Mr. Sparsfield
and his son sipped it with as great an air of enjoyment as if it had
been the most inspiring of beverages.

Mr. Sparsfield the elder was more or less rheumatic and asthmatic, but
a cheerful old man withal, and quite ready to prate of old times, when
Barbican and Aldersgate-street were pleasanter places than they are
to-day, or had seemed so to this elderly citizen.

"Meynell!" he exclaimed; "I knew Sam Meynell as well as I knew my own
brother, and I knew old Christian Meynell almost as well as I knew my
own father. There was more sociability in those days, you see, sir. The
world seems to have grown too full to leave any room for friendship.
It's all push and struggle, and struggle and push, as you may say; and
a man will make you a frame for five-and-twenty shillings that will
look more imposing like than what I could turn out for five pound, Only
the gold-leaf will all drop off after a twelvemonth's wear; and that's
the way of the world nowadays. There's a deal of gilding, and things
are made to look uncommon bright; but the gold all drops off 'em before
long."

After allowing the old man to moralise to his heart's content, I
brought him back politely to the subject in which I was interested.

"Samuel Meynell was as good a fellow as ever breathed," he said; "but
he was too fond of the tavern. There were some very nice taverns round
about Aldersgate-street in those days; and you see, sir, the times were
stirring times, and folks liked to get together and talk over the day's
news, with a pipe of tobacco and a glass of their favourite liquor, all
in a sociable way. Poor Sam Meynell took a little too much of his
favourite liquor; and when the young woman that he had been keeping
company with--Miss Dobberly of Jewin-street--jilted him and married a
wholesale butcher in Newgate Market, who was old enough to be her
father, Sam took to drinking, and neglected his business. One day he
c