_Shrewsbury, May 20._ After all sorts of difficulties with the coach, which left one hour and a half late, we reached Chester at eleven, and were detained an hour. I therefore took a walk under the piazzas that go all through the town. Where a street has to be crossed we went down some steps, crossed the street and re-ascended a few steps again. Overhead are placed the second stories of every house; the whole was very new and singular to me. These avenues are clean, but rather low; my hat touched the top once or twice, and I want an inch and a half of six feet, English measure. At last we proceeded; passed the village of Wrexham, and shortly after through another village, much smaller, but the sweetest, neatest, and pleasantest spot I have seen in all my travels in this country. It was composed of small, detached cottages of simple appearance, divided by gardens sufficiently large for each house, supplied with many kinds of vegetables and fruit trees, luxuriant with bloom, while round the doors and windows, and clambering over the roofs, were creeping plants and vines covered with flowers of different hues. At one spot were small beds of variegated tulips, the sweet-scented lilies at another, the hedges looked snowy white, and everywhere, in gentle curves, abundance of honeysuckle. This village was on a gentle declivity from which, far over the Mersey, rising grounds were seen, and the ascending smoke of Liverpool also. I could not learn the name of this little terrestrial paradise, and must wait for a map to tell me. We dined in a hurry at Eastham, and after passing through a narrow slip in Wales, and seeing what I would thus far call the most improved and handsomest part of England, we are now at Shrewsbury for five hours. Mr. Bentley and I had some bread and butter and pushed out to see the town, and soon found ourselves on the bank of the Severn, a pretty little stream about sixty yards wide. Many men and boys were doing what they called fishing, but I only saw two sprats in one of the boys' hats during the whole walk. Some one told us that up the river we should find a place called the "Quarry" with beautiful trees, and there we proceeded. About a dozen men, too awkward to be sailors, were rowing a long, narrow, pleasure boat, while one in the bow gave us fine music with the bugle. We soon reached the Quarry, and found ourselves under tall, luxuriant, handsome trees forming broad avenues, following the course of the river, extremely agreeable. Indeed, being a woodsman, I think this the finest sight I have seen in England. How the Severn winds round the town, in the form of a horse-shoe! About the centre of this horse-shoe, another avenue, still more beautiful, is planted, going gently up the hill towards the town. I enjoyed this walk more than I can tell thee, and when I thought of the disappointment I had felt at five hours delay at Shrewsbury, and the pleasure I now felt, I