ied from life. The village of bankrupts in 'All in a
Garden Fair' is a whimsical conceit, like the disguise of Angela in 'All
Sorts and Conditions of Men,' and the double identity of Edmund Gray in
'The Ivory Gate.' In reading Besant we are constantly reminded that
humanity is wider than the world; and though its simplest facts are its
greatest, there is both interest and edification in eccentricities.

In 1895 he was made a baronet, and is president of the Society of
Authors, of whom he has been a gallant champion against the publishers.

OLD-TIME LONDON

From Sir Walter Besant's 'London': Harper and Brothers

The London house, either in Saxon or Norman time, presented no kind of
resemblance to the Roman villa. It had no cloisters, no hypocaust, no
suite or sequence of rooms. This unlikeness is another proof, if any
were wanting, that the continuity of tenure had been wholly broken. If
the Saxons went into London, as has been suggested, peaceably, and left
the people to carry on their old life and their trade in their own way,
the Roman and British architecture--no new thing, but a style grown up
in course of years and found fitted to the climate--would certainly have
remained. That, however, was not the case. The Englishman developed his
house from the patriarchal idea.

First, there was the common hall; in this the household lived, fed,
transacted business, and made their cheer in the evenings. It was built
of timber, and to keep out the cold draughts it was afterwards lined
with tapestry. At first they used simple cloths, which in great houses
were embroidered and painted; _perches_ of various kinds were affixed to
the walls, whereon the weapons, the musical instruments, the cloaks,
etc., were hung up. The lord and lady sat on a high seat; not, I am
inclined to think, on a dais at the end of the hall, which would have
been cold for them, but on a great chair near the fire, which was
burning in the middle of the hall. This fashion long continued. I have
myself seen a college hall warmed by a fire in a brazier burning under
the lantern of the hall. The furniture consisted of benches; the table
was laid on trestles, spread with a white cloth, and removed after
dinner; the hall was open to all who came, on condition that the guest
should leave his weapons at the door.

The floor was covered with reeds, which made a clean, soft, and warm
carpet, on which the company could, if they pleased, lie round the fire.
The