s
wheel, he certainly gave a wonderful display of agility in getting out
of our way. He did not seem to touch the ground at all, and by turning
two or three handsprings, he avoided being run over by the narrowest
margin. His wheel was considerably damaged and his impedimenta scattered
over the road. It was with rather a crestfallen air that he gathered up
his belongings, and we went on, shuddering to think how close we had
come to a serious accident at the very beginning of our pilgrimage. A
policeman witnessed the accident, but he clearly placed the blame on the
careless wheelman.

Passing through the forest, we came to Epping, and from there into a
stretch of open country that gave little suggestion of proximity to the
world's metropolis. Several miles through a narrow but beautifully kept
byway brought us to the village of Chipping-Ongar, a place of
considerable antiquity, and judging from the extensive site of its
ancient castle, at one time of some military importance.

At Ongar we began our return trip to London over the road which we
agreed was the most beautiful leading out of the city, for the suburbs
do not extend far in this direction and one is comparatively soon in the
country. The perfectly surfaced road, with only gentle slopes and
curves, runs through the parklike fields, here over a picturesque stone
bridge spanning a clear stream, there between rows of magnificent trees,
occasionally dropping into quiet villages, of which Chigwell was easily
the most delightful.

Chigwell became known to fame through the writings of Charles Dickens,
who was greatly enamored of the place and who made it the scene of much
of his story of "Barnaby Rudge." But Dickens, with his eye for the
beautiful and with his marvelous intuition for interesting situations,
was drawn to the village by its unusual charm. Few other places can
boast of such endorsement as he gave in a letter to his friend, Forster,
when he wrote: "Chigwell, my dear fellow, is the greatest place in the
world. Name your day for going. Such a delicious old inn facing the
church; such a lovely ride; such glorious scenery; such an
out-of-the-way rural place; such a sexton! I say again, name your day."
After such a recommendation, one will surely desire to visit the place,
and it is pleasant to know that the "delicious old inn" is still
standing and that the village is as rural and pretty as when Dickens
wrote over sixty years since.

The inn referred to, th