This sequestered spot is approached by lanes so very narrow, that
when we arrived at the Custom-house, we found the people here had
TAKEN THE MEASURE of the narrowest among them, and were waiting to
apply it to the carriage; which ceremony was gravely performed in
the street, while we all stood by in breathless suspense. It was
found to be a very tight fit, but just a possibility, and no more--
as I am reminded every day, by the sight of various large holes
which it punched in the walls on either side as it came along. We
are more fortunate, I am told, than an old lady, who took a house
in these parts not long ago, and who stuck fast in HER carriage in
a lane; and as it was impossible to open one of the doors, she was
obliged to submit to the indignity of being hauled through one of
the little front windows, like a harlequin.
When you have got through these narrow lanes, you come to an
archway, imperfectly stopped up by a rusty old gate--my gate. The
rusty old gate has a bell to correspond, which you ring as long as
you like, and which nobody answers, as it has no connection
whatever with the house.
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