On the main Islington road, not far from Highbury-corner, just opposite Union Chapel, there is a stable-yard, at the entrance of which there are generally two or three ’buses changing horses; a board over it denotes that it is the stabling of the London General Omnibus Company. If we go up that yard we shall find that we are in a vast square, occupying nearly twenty acres of ground, and running as far back as the Liverpool-road. To the right of us are enormous stables, each stable containing forty horses, all comfortably bedded down in straw, resting after their labours, and recruiting their strength for fresh ones. The horses do not work too hard, not more than three hours out of the twenty-four, and consume daily 18 lbs. of corn and 10 lbs. of chaff. To each omnibus—with the exception of the few drawn by three horses, which have a dozen—there are ten horses attached—which are never changed—which are all numbered, and the fullest particulars of which are entered in a book kept by the active and intelligent foreman of the yard. There is a horse-keeper to each set, who knows the times of his omnibus, and acts accordingly. In the middle of the yard is an immense shed, under which the omnibuses are drawn at night and washed and cleaned for the next day. This washing is done very easily. An enormous tank, holding 27,000 gallons of water, supplies several tubs, against which each omnibus is placed. There is a watchman, who comes on at nine at night and receives the omnibuses as they come in, and ranges them in the order in which, on the following morning, they will commence their respective exits. At half-past seven the first omnibus leaves the yard; the next follows eight minutes afterwards, and so on all the rest of the day. The omnibuses that commence early, finish their day’s work about nine. Those who go on duty later wait and bring home the pleasure-seekers returning from the theatres and exhibitions, and other places of public resort. For the accommodation of these latter classes extra omnibuses are required. Some of the omnibuses, we must add, work early and late; but then they have a good rest in the middle of the day. It is a hard life, that of an omnibus—citizens are apt to get fat, and stones are very trying. At a considerable expense, every ’bus must be done up and repainted and revarnished every two years. The original cost of each ’bus is about £120. They are all built in the yard, of iron and good oak and ash. In one part of the premises there is a steam-engine at work, sawing wood and turning machinery. In another part there are ’buses in all stages of development—here a frame, there a complete body, and there one with wheels waiting for the varnish, and paint and velvet cushions and plate glass, which shall make it differ from what it now is, as does Sappho “At her toilette’s greasy task, With Sappho fragrant at an evening mask.”