“SIR,--The writer of your admirable article on ‘Richmond Park and Town’ observes that ‘The pastrycook’s shop seems to have wandered a little away from its old locality, and it may be that its genealogy is doubtful.’ I would simply say that the business has been in the hands of the present family for over fifty years, and that the ‘maids of honour’ have been sold at this same shop for nearly 200 years. The house itself is about 300 years old. In conclusion I may add that the pastry has, I hope, lost nothing of its traditional flavour since the days when it is on record that £1,000 was paid for the secret of how to prepare them. The same sum of money has since been paid for the recipe. “Yours truly, “J. T. BILLETT, JUN., the Proprietor. “Richmond, June 8th.” To celebrate the recent jubilee, Billett gave away an extra “maid of honour” for every dozen purchased. Years ago, in boyhood’s happy hours, Richmond seemed a very imposing place to live in. There was a regular society of great and small personages. There were lady patronesses, and people used to come all the way from town for “our annual Richmond ball,” always given at the Castle Hotel, that seemed then, with its fine river terrace and gardens and ball-room, a most stately and awe-striking hostelry. Now it seems a poorish place enough, and has lain unlet and abandoned for the last twenty years. What music and fiddling and dancing was there! What barges coming down in the season laden with cheerful company! There is certainly a pleasing _rococo_ tone, recalling the old-fashioned flavour, which has not yet departed. The rows of genial red Queen Anne houses ranged round the common have even now a tranquil air--their tints are mellowed by age--and they have architectural effect which contrasts as effectively with the rows of the modern buildings as an elegant, faded old lady does with some flaunting miss. The mixture of hue on these old commons ever pleases; the green--even the white rails--the sleepy tranquillity, the old-fashioned people who doze away life. There was a colony that included Maria Edgeworth’s brother, a genial old man, who gave parties; and I recall the great convulsion arising out of the dispute between rector and curate. Richmond was rent into factions, but the curate, weaker vessel, was driven out. He came round in a cab, and bid adieu to all the friends who had stood by him in his trial, which was thought very graceful of him. [Illustration: MAID OF HONOUR ROW, RICHMOND.]