Cambridge Crescents also met my eye. Without
further delay, I struck a half-mile circle;
and as I observed therein several streets and
terraces bearing the names, Canterbury,
Winchester, Durham, Salisbury, &c., I
concluded that this was (as it eventually turned
out to be) Church property; and, as a lover
of order and decency, I congratulated myself
on the felicitous idea that had suggested to
me that neighbourhood; for I felt this
circumstance to be a guarantee of an orderly
and well-regulated estate.

From these high-sounding names, however,
I had some misgivings that the houses in
that neighbourhood might be of too expensive
a class for a man of moderate means. Still,
I resolved to proceed there, and reconnoitre,
in the hope of finding a decent little place, at
a moderate figure. So, with my map in my
hand, I rode down to King's Cross, and
proceeding along the old Pancras Road, entered
the King's Road, which is the boundary of
the property I was seeking. I had not gone
far beyond a large building, which I found
was the St. Pancras Workhouse, when I
observed a woman and a number of ragged
children drawing a truck. The truck
contained a table, two or three old chairs, and
some kitchen utensils, with a large bundle of
bed-clothes tied up in a patchwork quilt.
The entire strength of the company was
exerted to draw the truck up the steep pathway
of a turning on the right-hand side of
the road, in which they succeeded at length;
and the woman, struggling, with her hair
about her face, and her bonnet hanging round
her neck, the truck moved on, aided by the
vigorous pushing of her young family behind.
The pathway was some feet above the road,
which was a complete bog of mud and filth,
with deep cart-ruts; the truck, oscillating
and bounding over the inequalities of the
narrow pathway, threatened every moment
to overturn with the woman, her family, and
all her worldly goods.

There was something so painfully
picturesque in the little group, and so exciting
in the constant apprehension of an accident,
that I could not help following. For a time,
however, a special Providence seemed to
watch over the party. I began to give up all
fear of a mishap; when, suddenly, the inner
wheel encountered a small hillock of dust and
vegetable refuse at the door of a cottage, and
finally shot its contents into the deep slough
of the roadway. The woman turned back;
and, having well thumped the heads of her
family, seated herself upon the heap of ashes
which had been the cause of her misfortune, to
vent the rest of her rage in abuse of a
miscellaneous character.

A dustman happening to pass at the time,
helped the children to restore the chattels to
the righted truck.

"How fur have you to go?" he asked,

"Oh! not fur," said she, " only to one of
them cottages yonder. It's very aggravatin,'
arter draggin' them goods all the way from
Smithses Rents, and all along that there nasty
road, all right; just to upset when one's got
here! This ain't no woman's work, this ain't;
only my husband's got a job this mornin',
and we was obliged to move out afore twelve;
which is the law, they says."

"What is the name of this place?" I asked.

"This here, sir? " replied the woman;
"why, Hagar Town."

"Agar Town?" I exclaimed, with
astonishment, remembering how clean and
promising it had appeared upon the map. "Do
you mean to say that I am really in Agar
Town?"

The dustman, who by this time had finished
his job, and who sat upon the pathway
smoking a short black pipe, with his legs
dangling over the road, like a patient angler
by a very turbid stream, ventured to join the
conversation, by answering my question.

"You 're as nigh," said he, "to the middle o'
Hagar Town as you vell can be."

"And where," said I, "is Salisbury
Crescent?"

"There's Salisbury Crescent!"

I looked up, and saw several wretched
hovels, ranged in a slight curve, that formed
some excuse for the name. The doors were
blocked up with mud, heaps of ashes, oyster-shells,
and decayed vegetables.

"It's a rum place, ain't it?" remarked the
dustman. "I am forced to come through
it twice every day, for my work lays that
way; but I wouldn't, if I could help it.
It don't much matter in my business, a little
dirt, but Hagar Town is worse nor I can
abear."

"Are there no sewers?"

"Sooers?  Why, the stench of a rainy
morning is enough fur to knock down a
bullock. It's all very well for them as is
lucky enough to have a ditch afore their
doors; but, in gen'ral, everybody chucks
everythink out in front and there it stays.
There used to be an inspector of noosances,
when the choleray was about; but, as
soon as the choleray went away, people
said they didn't want no more of that suit
till such times as the choleray should break
out agen."

"Is the whole of Agar Town in such a
deplorable state as this?" I asked.

"All on it! Some places, wuss. You can't
think what rookeries there is in some parts.
As to the roads, they ain't never been done
nothink to. They ain't roads. I recollect when
this place was all gardeners' ground; it was a
nice pooty place enough then. That ain't above
ten or twelve year ago. When people began
to build on it, they run up a couple o' rows o'
houses oppersite one another, and then the
road was left fur to make itself. Then the
rain come down, and people chucked their
rubbidge out; and the ground bein' nat'rally
soft, the carts from the brick-fields worked
it all up into paste."