Thomas Millen of Rochester informed us that he knew Charles Dickens. His (Millen's) father was a hop-farmer, and about the years 1864-5 lived at Bridgewood House, on the main road from Rochester to Maidstone. One afternoon in the autumn, Dickens, accompanied by Miss Hogarth and his daughters, Mary and Kate, drove along the road, and stopped to admire a pear tree which was covered with ripe fruit. Millen happened to be in the garden at the time, and while noticing the carriage, Dickens spoke to him, and referred to the very fine fruit. Millen said, "Will you have some, sir?" to which Dickens replied, "Thank you, you are very good, I will." He gave him some pears and some roses. Dickens then said, "You have not the pleasure of knowing me, and I have not the pleasure of knowing you. I am Charles Dickens; and when you pass Gad's Hill, I shall take it as a favour if you will look in and see my place." Millen replied, "I feel it to be a great honour to speak to you, sir. I have read most of your works, and I think _David Copperfield_ is the master-piece. I hope to avail myself of your kind invitation some day." Dickens laughed, wished Millen "Good-day," and the carriage drove on towards Maidstone. "Some little time after," said Millen, "I was going to visit an uncle at Gravesend, and drove over with a one-horse trap by way of Gad's Hill. As I came near the place, I saw Mr. Dickens in the road. He said, 'So you are here,' and I mentioned where I was going. He took me in, and we went through the tunnel, and by the cedars, to the chalet, which stood in the shrubbery in front of the house. He showed me his work there--a manuscript on the table, and also some proofs. They were part of _Our Mutual Friend_, which was then appearing in monthly numbers; and on that morning a proof of one of the illustrations had arrived from Mr. Marcus Stone. It was the one in which 'Miss Wren fixes her idea.' I was then about sixteen or seventeen, and Dickens said, 'You are setting out in life; mind _you_ always fix your idea.' He asked me what I was going to be, and I said a farmer. He said, 'Better be that than an author or poet;' and after I had had two glasses of wine, he bade me 'good-bye.'" * * * * *