The yokel obeyed, but setting about the matter with more force than the visitor would put up with, there was a scuffle, the neighbourhood was roused, the constable or watchman arrived, and the affair became serious. Finally, when matters were arranged by the arm of the law, and the caller could calmly explain himself, he proved to be one of Mrs. Lowther’s tradesmen, a dyer whom she often employed to freshen up her gowns. One can quite imagine the glee with which the ladies related the story to their friends when they saw the pink gown appearing in the distance every evening. Lady Mary seems to have bestowed much criticism on her contemporaries, both male and female. Pope—who, by the way, spent many of his young days near Hyde Park—was to her the “little wasp of Twickenham,” and in another letter of hers we find the following, in which runs a rich vein of sarcasm: “Lady Hervey makes the top figure in town, and is so good a show twice a week at the Drawing-room, and twice more at the Opera, for the entertainment of the public.... Lady Hervey is more delightful than ever, and such a politician that if people were not blind to merit, she would govern the nation.” These two instances are, perhaps, typical of the chatter that was rife in those daily drives and walks in Hyde Park when George II. came to the throne. Men enjoyed the gossip, as they do now. Would that we had a bioscope that would reproduce those picturesque groups lounging under the trees: Lord Hervey with his debonair appearance, the worldly Lord Chesterfield, and the numerous others who figure in the witty correspondences which became an art in the eighteenth century. Hyde Park supplied the subjects for many a long letter from Horace Walpole, George Selwyn, and their friends, written in such racy style that one can almost hear the chuckle with which a bit of “talk about town” was indited, or the approving laugh of the recipient as he read. Under George II. change was busy. The spirit of gardening was abroad. People were tired of clipped hedges, trimmed shrubs, and the formality of the Dutch style. Queen Caroline beautified Kensington Gardens, and in doing so robbed Hyde Park of three hundred acres to give her greater scope. “Natural” gardening was the vogue, and this addition leant itself to her scheme. The greatest change of all, for which habitués of the Park remain indebted to Queen Caroline, Consort of George II., was the Serpentine. It is still the finest sheet of water in any of the London parks, and has entirely altered the aspect from the large area over which it is visible. Why “Serpentine”?