“The Wooden Midshipman,” one of the most effective and playful conceits of Dickens, might be pointed out as an illustration of his mode of illustrating stories. Take away the little figure from the associations of Cap’n Cuttle and Sol Gills, and much life and colour seems abstracted. Only so late as the close of 1881 the “Midshipman” was flourishing at a house in Leadenhall Street, nearly opposite the India House. In that year some tremendous operations in demolition and re-erection were being carried out, and the “Wooden Midshipman” received notice to quit. A pleasant writer, Mr. Ashby Sterry, with a specially delicate touch, and who has written some “Tiny Travels”--so called--because they are merely visits to places familiar and close at hand, often more enjoyable than the official far-off showplaces--heard of what was going to be done, and made a hasty pilgrimage to take a last look. He tells us how he was affected. “With his quadrant at his round black knob of an eye, and his figure in the old attitude of indomitable alacrity, the midshipman displayed his elfin small clothes to the best advantage, and, absorbed in scientific pursuits, had no sympathy with worldly concern. When I was a boy, the very first book of Dickens’s that I read was ‘Dombey and Son.’ Passing down Leadenhall Street shortly afterwards, I noted the ‘Wooden Midshipman,’ and at once ‘spotted’ it as the original of Sol Gills’s residence. The description is so vivid and exact that it is unmistakable.” This was the old-established firm of Norie and Wilson, nautical instrument makers, established since 1773, and which, as it seems to me, had a thoroughly Dickens flavour--that name _Norie_. The firm had associations with Nelson, kept up diligently their old-fashioned connections, and took pride in their Midshipman.