But, happily, in course of years, as the prosperity of the United States of America grew by ‘leaps and bounds,’ attracting labour in abundance from all parts of Europe, there was no longer any need for the traffic in human flesh and blood, and the redemptioner became a thing of the past. A TRIP TO RICHMOND IN SURREY. The following _morceau_ gives so quaint an account of a day’s outing in the last century that I have thought it a pity to let it remain buried. It is by J. West, and was published in 1787: From London to Richmond I took an excursion, For the sake of my health and in hopes of diversion: Thus, walking without any cumbersome load, I mark’d ev’ry singular sight on the road. In Hyde Park I met a hump-back’d macarony Who was pleased I should see how he manag’d his pony. The Cockney was dresst in true blue and in buff, In buckskin elastic, but all in the rough; He wore patent spurs on his boots, with light soles, And buttons as big as some halfpenny rolls; His hair out of curls, with a tail like a rat, And sideways he clapt on his head a round hat; His cravat was tied up in a monstrous large bunch, No wonder the ladies should smile at his hunch. The next figure I saw, ’twas a milliner’s maid, A high cap and pink ribbons adorning her head, Which was made to sit well, but a little fantastic, With a hundred black pins and a cushion elastic. She stalked like a peacock when waving her fan, And us’d an umbrella upon a new plan; Her elbows she lean’d on her hoop as on crutches, And wagg’d her silk gown with the air of a duchess. Now forward I stept to behold her sweet face; She ogled and smil’d with a seeming good grace; However, there was no dependence upon it, Although her eyes sparkled from under her bonnet, I question’d her love, so I wished her farewel; But something more clever I’m ready to tell. From yon spot in the Park, just where the Parade is, Approach’d a grand sportsman, attended by ladies On bay horses mounted; they swift tore the ground, Escorted by servants and terriers around; I guess’d that my Lord went to sport with his Graces To Windsor’s wide forest or Maidenhead races. Through Kensington passing I saw a fine show Of chaises, gigs, coaches, there all in a row! When I came to a well where a girl stood close by, Who ask’d to what place do these folk go? and why? I, smiling, replied, ‘They, my dear, go to Windsor, To see king and queen,’--but could not convince her. On tiptoe the titt’ring girl ran off the stand, And broke half the pitcher she had in her hand.