Farther away from town are found other attractive spots--in the way of surprises--with much that is curious and original. As specimens of this kind of voyage of discovery might be suggested Edmonton, Enfield, Eltham, or Croydon. We need not dwell on the unsophisticated and rural character of these hamlets and towns, the fine invigorating air that sweeps along the high roads, the sense of cheerful exhilaration. In themselves the old coaching roads are full of interest. Eltham is a pleasant, inviting, and novel sort of place, with a fair open country about it, breezy pastures and fine old trees spreading away. In many of these distant suburbs, as they may almost be called, there is this park-like wooded look, as though we were in the heart of some rich country. Antique houses line the roadside--there are few new ones. Searching out the old Palace, we are struck with the “rurality” of the road, the row of fine old trees which line it, which was once an avenue. One could hardly find more remarkable houses outside a Christmas number. Those we see here are high-roofed and long-windowed--with the old panes--which must at least be as old as Elizabeth. Each has its gardens round it, and looks snug and comfortable. Here is an old “moated” house, the water running lazily below--for the road is a bridge--actually round the foundations. To this mansion much has been done by way of restoration. Coming to the Palace, it is delightful to meet with the elegant and original banqueting hall, ruined fragment as it is. It suggests the equally interesting Crosby Hall in the City, and there is a bay or oriel window of the same character. We know the pattern, the wall running up for a dozen feet or so where the Perpendicular windows begin. There is a peculiar charm about this style, something graceful and satisfactory. But would we recreate ourselves with some of the finest specimens of old brick, we must go yet further afield. Let us repair to Tottenham, that is, beyond the town, at the point where the road turns off to Enfield. There the country is charmingly old-fashioned, the air delicious, the route has the look of a coach road, with its great flourishing trees. Here are the fine Anne or Georgian houses, plum-coloured almost, untouched and sound as on the day they were built. The doorways are well carved. More remarkable is the sort of Manor House in its grounds, known, I think, as the “Lion House,” from the spiritedly carved lions which adorn the gate-posts.