n full view of Genoa's perfect
bay," when about to commence _The Chimes_ (1844); he says:--"Never did I
stagger so upon a threshold before. I seem as if I had plucked myself
out of my proper soil when I left Devonshire Terrace, and could take
root no more until I return to it. . . . Did I tell you how many
fountains we have here? No matter. If they played nectar, they wouldn't
please me half so well as the West Middlesex water-works at Devonshire
Terrace."

Mr. Jonathan Clark, who resides here, kindly shows us over the house,
which contains thirteen rooms. The polished mahogany doors in the hall,
and the chaste Italian marble mantel-pieces in the principal rooms, are
said to have been put up by the novelist. On the ground floor, the
smaller room to the eastward of the house, with window facing north and
looking into the pleasant garden where the plane trees and turf are
beautifully green, is pointed out as having been his study.

Mr. Benjamin Lillie, of 70, High Street, Marylebone, plumber and
painter, remembers Mr. Dickens coming to Devonshire Terrace. He did a
good deal of work for him while he lived there, and afterwards, when he
removed to Tavistock House, including the fitting up of the library
shelves and the curious counterfeit book-backs, made to conceal the
backs of the doors. He also removed the furniture to Tavistock House,
and subsequently to Gad's Hill Place. He spoke of the interest which Mr.
Dickens used to take in the work generally, and said he would stand for
hours with his back to the fire looking at the workmen. In the summer
time he used to lie on the lawn with his pocket-handkerchief over his
face, and when thoughts occurred to him, he would go into his study, and
after making notes, would resume his position on the lawn. On the next
page we give an illustration of the courteous and precise manner--not
without a touch of humour--in which he issued his orders.

Here it was that Dickens's favourite ravens were kept, in a stable on
the south side of the garden, one of which died in 1841, it was supposed
from the effects of paint, or owing to "a malicious butcher," who had
been heard to say that he "would do for him." His death is described by
Dickens in a long passage which thus concludes:--

"On the clock striking twelve he appeared slightly
agitated, but he soon recovered, walked twice or
thrice along the coach-house, stopped to bark,
staggered, exclaimed,