Taking our way up Richmond Hill--noting the still rustic, pleasingly old fashioned air of the houses and villas as we ascend--we shall, of course, pause to enjoy the oft-celebrated, ever-admired view, if a proper day. It has a charm that cannot be surpassed, notably the silver glistening of the riband that winds away below. It is only when you live in the place that you learn the nature of the charm. Before reaching Kingston we pass through Norbiton, where we welcome, close to the roadside, the unwonted music of the rooks, now too rarely heard. We can see their nests high in the tall trees, and then one or two quaint “demesne houses,” quite in keeping with the rooks. It is likely that there are many who have never explored old Kingston town, and assume that it is of the same pattern as Kew or Putney. It is a curiously attractive and original place enough, and its market-place might be that of some old country town a hundred miles away. Here are plenty of framed and gabled houses overhanging the street, and combined together with a really pleasing variety. The number of old inns here clustered is truly extraordinary--The Wheatsheaf, The Sun, The Ram, The Griffin, a former great posting-house, with its archway and huge yard; and even the Assembly Rooms, still in vogue. The Market House is modern, but harmonizes pleasantly; there is a monumental drinking-fountain, and a mysterious old stone, known as “the coronation stone,” fenced carefully round. There is the old church and its churchyard just touching the street. One Sunday morning, when I was wandering here, there came across the old Market Place a small procession, the town clerk leading, his fellows behind, one bearing a mace, and behind the _Mayor!_ in his gown, for the little town boasts this privilege. They were making for the church; and the whole had a quaint air. The Thames here is charming, and beside it are well-framed fishing inns, such as “The Anglers,” with names of the hosts that seem appropriate--by “J. Silver,” and the stranger “Everproud.” There is the silvery-looking bridge close by, with its graceful, hilly curve.