Plumstead in the south-east. In the far-lying
districts there are two deliveries a day,
nearer localities have four deliveries. There is
a small difference in the rates charged between
the two " circles," but in both the collection
and delivery are made by the ordinary carts,
though in the City, where the general class of
parcels is cumbrous and weighty, the collections
are made by pair-horse vans.

The company possesses about eighty carts
and about a hundred and sixty horses. Although
there are some thirty stables scattered about
London belonging to it, the majority of the
horses, about a hundred, are stabled in Rolls'
Yard. They are good serviceable-looking animals,
better in stamp and shape than either the omnibus
or the cab horses, being larger boned,
stronger, and altogether less " weedy" looking;
they cost more, too, averaging forty
pounds apiece. Each horse works five days out
of the seven, and covers in his journeys about
thirty miles a day. To every cart are attached
a driver, and a boy who acts as deliverer: the
former with wages of twenty-five shillings a
week, the latter fourteen shillings, with such
little perquisites as they may obtain from the
public. The general conduct of these men and
lads is, I was told, excellent, and never — save
at Christmas, when the generosity of the public
takes the form of gin— is there any irregularity.
Then, looking at the extra work imposed on
them, the rigidity of discipline is wholesomely
relaxed, and the superintending eye suffers itself
to wink a little. For, at Christmas the labour
in Rolls' Yard is tremendous. During the four
days preceding Christmas-day, last year, upwards
of thirty-two thousand parcels, principally
of geese, turkeys, game, oyster-barrels, and
cheeses, were conveyed by the company. At
such a time, the manager does not take off his
clothes, and looks upon sleep as an exceptional
luxury.

We had proceeded thus far in our " carrying"
experiences, and were debating where to turn
for further information, when the question was
settled for us (as many questions are) by our
friends: enterprising creatures who rushed at
us crying " Pickford's." Old gentlemen told
us how that this very firm of Pickford's had
been carriers by land upwards of a century,
even before canals were introduced by the
Duke of Bridgewater in 1758; how that
they then commenced the water traffic, and
carried it on with the same regularity as they
do their present business, but in rather a different
manner, as it then took five days to convey
goods from London to Manchester— a feat
which is now performed in twelve hours. Young
gentlemen were full of the reckless daring of
Pickford's drivers, the power of Pickford's
horses, and the weight of Pickford generally.
Ladies young and old, agreed in condemning
Pickford as a " horrid" person, who blocked up
the road perpetually, and prevented cabs and
carriages drawing up at shop-doors. So we decided
on calling upon Pickford— who, by the
way, is not Pickford at all— and having been most
courteously received, and accredited for all the
information we required to a practical gentleman
whose kindness and readily-given information we
hereby acknowledge, we set to work to take
Pickford's measure, and to find out all about
him.

We first called on Pickford— who is not Pickford—
in Wood-street, at the Castle Inn — which
is not an inn, and which has not the least appearance
of ever having been one; for Pickford
has so gutted it and twisted it for his own purposes,
has thrown out so much yard constantly
resounding with champing horses and lumbering
vans, has enclosed so much gallery, has
established so many offices public and private,
has so perforated it with speaking tube and
telegraph wire, and has so completely steeped
the place in business, doing away with any
appearance of inn comfort and hotel luxury, that
the idea of anybody's taking his ease in his Castle
Inn is ridiculous on the face of it. Here
Pickford, who is not Pickford, and of whom
it may be further remarked that he is three
gentlemen rolled into one, has his head-quarters
for correspondence and general management,
but here he professes to have nothing to show
us beyond the ordinary routine of a mercantile
office, of course marked with the special individuality
of the carrying business. Wanting
to see Pickford in full work, we must go to one
of his depots— Camden Town, City Basin,
Haydon-square in the Minories, which will we
visit? We choose Camden Town.

At Camden Town — invariably abbreviated in
Pickfordian language into Camden— Pickford,
who is the recognised agent of the London and
North-Western Railway Company, has enormous
premises adjoining the goods' station, and
is to be seen in full swing. Employing more
than nine hundred horses m London, he keeps
three hundred of them at Camden. Going into
these stables, we are at once struck with an air
of substantiality in connexion with Pickford,
which is different to anything we have yet seen
during this tour of inspection of the ways and
means of " Riding London." There is special
potentiality in his stables with their asphalte
pavements and their large swinging oaken bars,
in his big horses, in his strong men, in his
enormous vans. Most of the horses are splendid
animals, many of them standing over sixteen
hands high, and all in excellent condition. They
are all bought by one man, the recognised
buyer for the establishment, who attends the
principal fairs throughout the country; the
average cost price of each is forty-five pounds.
They are fed on a mixture of bruised oats,
crushed Indian corn, and peas, which is found to
be capital forage. Each horse, when bought, is
branded with a number on the front of his forefeet
hoofs, and is named; name and number are
entered in the horse-book; and by them the
horse's career, where he may be working, and
anything special relating to him, is checked off
until he dies or is sold. Pickford's horses last
on an average seven or eight years, and then
they are killed; but in many instances, when no