The old gentleman turned and smiled to see a rural looking wayside inn, embowered in creeping vines and running roses, and overshadowed by trees, and bearing the inscription in two lines of rhyme: “Good Beer Sold Here.” A little group of foot passengers to the Derby were sitting on a bench under a spreading tree, testing the qualities of the said “good beer.” This and many other simple little way sidescenes, illustrative of English rural roadside life, which the occasional opening of the crowd allowed them to catch a glimpse of, remained as pleasant pictures in the gallery of memory to contemplate in after-days. They were now ascending a graduated hill; when they reached its summit they were comparatively free from the crowd. The carriages before them had gone rapidly on downward; the carriages behind them were coming slowly up. “Order your coachman to draw up here, General. We are near Epsom, and from this rising ground, by standing up in your carriage and using your field-glass, you may take a bird’s-eye view of Epsom Hill and Heath, with its surroundings,” said Mr. Tredegar, adding example to precept by stopping his own horse. The General gave orders in accordance with this advice, and then mounted on his seat, and levelled his field-glass. “Good Heavens!” he exclaimed, in his unbounded amazement. Under his eyes lay a scene of its kind not to be equalled in this world. There were from four to five hundred thousand people of all ranks, sexes, ages, and conditions,—some with their horses, carriages, and liveried servants; others with their donkey-carts, and tents, and wares for sale; others again with only their own weary limbs and haggard faces, and fluttering rags,—all gathered together on the hill and heath of Epsom, or pressing thither by every highway leading from every point of the compass. “I never expected to see such a crowd this side of the Judgment-day!” said General Lyon, as he resigned the glass to Anna and assisted her to rise on the seat. Anna gazed long and thoughtfully at the wonderful scene, and then she said: “But it reminds one of the Judgment-day in something else beside its great crowd—here, as on that coming day, saint and sinner, prince and beggar stand together as they will stand there! It is an exciting and a depressing scene, grandpa,” she said, as she restored the glass and resumed her seat. Drusilla next arose to take a view. And she was no doubt as deeply impressed by the vastness of the multitude assembled before her as her uncle and cousin had been, but her chief thought was still, “How shall I ever be able to catch a glimpse of my Alick in such a boundless crowd as this?” Dick was standing by her side, using his own field-glass. “Worth crossing the ocean to see, is it not, Drusa?” he asked. “Yes; even though we know little of horses, and less of races, and least of all which is likely to win the Derby.”