be needed, it is a fact that, in the yard of a warehouse occupied by a friend of mine in Orford-street, the soil was always damp previous to a change of weather, and a well therein was of no use whatever, except for cleansing purposes, so brackish was the water.

To return to the launch.  After the feasting was over my father treated our friends to the White House and Ranelagh Tea Gardens, which stood at the top of Ranelagh-street.  The site is now occupied by the Adelphi Hotel.  The gardens extended a long way back.  Warren-street is formed out of them.  These gardens were very tastefully arranged in beds and borders, radiating from a centre in which was a Chinese temple, which served as an orchestra for a band to play in.  Round the sides of the garden, in a thicket of lilacs and laburnums, the beauty of which, in

early summer, was quite remarkable, were little alcoves or bowers wherein parties took tea or stronger drinks.  About half-way up the garden, the place where the Warren-street steps are now, there used to be a large pond or tank wherein were fish of various sorts.  These fish were so tame that they would come to the surface to be fed.  This fish feeding was a very favourite amusement with those who frequented the garden.  In the tank were some carp of immense size, and so fat they could hardly swim.  Our servant-man used to take me to the Ranelagh Gardens every fine afternoon, as it was a favourite lounge.  Over the garden door was written—

“You are welcome to walk here I say,
But if flower or fruit you pluck
One shilling you must pay.”

The garden paling was carried up Copperas-hill (called after the Copperas Works, removed in 1770, after long litigation) across to Brownlow-hill, a white ropery extending behind the palings.  To show how remarkably neighbourhoods alter by time and circumstance, I recollect it was said that Lord Molyneux, while hunting, once ran a hare down Copperas-hill.  A young lady, Miss Harvey, who resided near the corner, went out to see what was the cause of the disturbance she heard, when observing the hare, she turned it back.  Miss Harvey used to say “the gentlemen swore terribly”

at her for spoiling their sport.  This was not seventy years ago!

To return to the Ranelagh Gardens.  There was, at the close of the gala nights, as they were called, a display of fireworks.  They were let off on the terrace.  I went to see the last exhibition which took place in 1780.  There was, on that occasion, a concert in which Miss Brent, (who was, by the way, a great favourite) appeared.  Jugglers used to exhibit in the concert-room, which was very capacious, as it would hold at least 800 to 1000 persons.  This concert-room was also used as a dinner-room on great occasions, and also as a town ball-room.  Stephens gave his lecture on “Heads” in it very frequently.

G. A. Stephens was an actor, who, after playing about in the provincial highways and bye-ways of the dramatic world, went to London, where he was engaged at Covent Garden in second and third rate parts.  He was a man of dissipated habits, but a jovial and merry companion.  He wrote a great many very clever songs, which he sang with great humour.  He got the idea of the lectures on “Heads” from a working man about one of the theatres, whom he saw imitating some of the members of the corporation of the town in which he met with him.  Stephens, who was quick and ready with his pen, in a short time got up his lecture, which he delivered all through England,

Scotland, Ireland, and America.  He realised upwards of £10,000, which he took care of, as he left that sum behind him at his death, in 1784.  He was at the time, a completely worn-out, imbecile old man.  Many of the leading actors of his day followed up the lecture on “Heads,” in which they signally failed to convey the meaning of the author.  I saw him, and was very much amused; but I do not think he would be tolerated in the present day.  The elder Mathews evidently caught the idea of his “At Homes” from Stephens’s lecture.

Brownlow-hill was so called after Mr. Lawrence Brownlow, a gentleman who held much property thereabout.  Brownlow-hill was a very pleasant walk.  There were gardens on it, as, also, on Mount Pleasant, then called Martindale’s-hill, of which our friend Mr. Roscoe has sung so sweetly.  Martindale’s-hill was quite a country walk when I was a little boy.  There was also a pleasant walk over the Moss Lake Fields to Edge Hill.  Where the Eye and Ear Infirmary stands there was a stile and a foot-path to the Moss Lake Brook, across it was a wooden foot bridge.  The path afterwards diverged to Smithdown-lane.  The path-road also went on to Pembroke-place, along the present course of Crown-street.  I have heard my father speak of an attempt being made to rob him on passing over the stile which stood where now you find

the King William Tavern.  He drew his sword (a weapon commonly worn by gentlemen of the time) which so frightened the thieves that they ran away, and, in their flight, went into a pit of water, into which my father also ran in the darkness which prevailed.  The thieves roared loudly for help, which my father did not stop to accord them.  He, being a good swimmer, soon got out, leaving the thieves to extricate themselves as they could.  There were several very pleasant country walks which went up to Low-hill through Brownlow-street, and by Love-lane (now Fairclough-lane).  I recollect going along Love-lane many a time with my dear wife, when we were sweethearting.  We used to go to Low-hill and thence along Everton-road (then called Everton-lane), on each side of which was a row of large trees, and we returned by Loggerhead’s-lane (now Everton Crescent), and so home by Richmond-row, (called after Dr. Sylvester Richmond, a physician greatly esteemed and respected.)  I recollect very well the brook that ran along the present Byrom-street, whence the tannery on the right-hand side was supplied with water.  At the bottom of Richmond-row used to be the kennels of the Liverpool Hunt Club.  They were at one time kept on the North-shore.

CHAPTER II.

I was very sorry when the Ranelagh Gardens were broken up.  The owner, Mr. Gibson, was the brother of the Mr. Gibson who kept the Folly Gardens at the bottom of Folly-lane (now Islington) and top of Shaw’s Brow (called after Mr. Alderman Shaw, the great potter, who lived in Dale-street, at the corner of Fontenoy-street—whose house is still standing).  Many a time have I played in the Folly Tea Gardens.  It was a pretty place, and great was the regret of the inhabitants of Liverpool when it was resolved to build upon it.  The Folly was closed in 1785.  Mr. Philip Christian built his house, now standing at the corner of Christian-street, of the bricks of which the Tavern was constructed.  The Folly was a long two-storied house, with a tower or gazebo at one end.  Gibson, it was said, was refused permission to extend the size of his house, so “he built it upright,” as he said “he could not build it along.”  The entrance

to the Gardens was from Folly-lane, up a rather narrow passage.  I rather think the little passage at the back of the first house in Christian-street was a part of it.  You entered through a wooden door and went along a shrubberied path which led to the Tavern.  Folly-lane (now Islington) was a narrow country lane, with fields and gardens on