I found her seated
in a little back parlor, the window of which looked out upon a
yard about eight feet square laid out as a flower-garden, while a
glass door opposite afforded a distant view of the street,
through a vista of soap and tallow candles--the two views, which
comprised, in all probability, her prospects in life and the
little world in which she had lived and moved and had her being
for the better part of a century.
To be versed in the history of Eastcheap, great and little, from
London Stone even unto the Monument, was doubtless, in her
opinion, to be acquainted with the history of the universe. Yet,
with all this, she possessed the simplicity of true wisdom, and
that liberal communicative disposition which I have generally
remarked in intelligent old ladies knowing in the concerns of
their neighborhood.
Her information, however, did not extend far back into antiquity.
She could throw no light upon the history of the Boar's Head from
the time that Dame Quickly espoused the valiant Pistol until the
great fire of London when it was unfortunately burnt down. It was
soon rebuilt, and continued to flourish under the old name and
sign, until a dying landlord, struck with remorse for double
scores, bad measures, and other iniquities which are incident to
the sinful race of publicans, endeavored to make his peace with
Heaven by bequeathing the tavern to St.
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