sister-in-law, had already sent a telegram (by the same
messenger on horseback who summoned me) to his old friend and family
doctor, Mr. Frank Beard, who arrived about midnight. He relieved me in
attendance at that time, and I came again in the morning. There was
unhappily no change in the symptoms, and stertorous breathing, which had
commenced before, now continued. In conversation Miss Hogarth and the
family expressed themselves perfectly satisfied with the attendance of
Mr. Beard and myself. I said, 'That may be so, and we are much obliged
for your kind opinion; but we have a duty to perform, not only to you,
my dear madam, and the family of Mr. Dickens, but also to the public.
What will the public say if we allow Charles Dickens to pass away
without further medical assistance? Our advice is to send for Dr.
Russell Reynolds.' Mr. Beard first made the suggestion.

"The family reiterated their expression of perfect satisfaction with the
treatment of Mr. Beard and myself, but immediately gave way, Dr. Russell
Reynolds was sent for, and came in the course of the day. This eminent
physician without hesitation pronounced the case to be hopeless. He said
at once on seeing him, 'He cannot live.' And so it proved. At a little
past 6 o'clock on Thursday, the 9th of June, 1870, Charles Dickens
passed quietly away without a word--about twenty-four hours after the
seizure."

[Illustration: Rochester: from Strood Pier:]

Such is the simple narrative which the kind-hearted octogenarian
surgeon, whom it is a delightful pleasure to meet and converse with,
communicates to us, and then cordially wishes us "good-bye."

* * * * *

There is an annual pleasure fair at Strood, instituted, it is said, so
far back as the reign of Edward III. It takes place during three days in
the last week of August, and as it is going on while we are on our
tramp, we just look in for a few minutes, the more especially as we were
informed by Mr. William Ball, and others who had seen him, that Dickens
used to be very fond of going there at times in an appropriate disguise,
where perhaps he may have seen the prototype of the famous "Doctor
Marigold." The fair is now held on a large piece of waste ground near
the Railway Station. There are the usual set-out of booths, "Aunt
Sallies," shooting-galleries, "Try your weight and strength, gentlemen"
machines, a theatre, with a tragedy and comedy both performed in about
an hour, an