No one now starts from the "White Horse Cellar," for the excellent reason that it does not now exist. The original "Cellar" was a queer place. Figure to yourself a basement room, with sanded floor, and an odour like that of a wine-vault, crowded with Regency bucks drinking or discussing huge beef-steaks. It was situated on the south side of Piccadilly, where the Hotel Ritz now stands, and is first mentioned in 1720, when it was given its name by Williams, the landlord, in compliment to the House of Hanover, the newly-established Royal House of Great Britain, whose cognizance was a white horse. Abraham Hatchett first made the Cellar famous, both as a boozing-ken and a coach-office, and removed it to the opposite side of the street, where, as "Hatchett's Hotel and White Horse Cellar." it remained until 1884, when the present "Albemarle" arose on its site, with a "White Horse" restaurant in the basement. [Sidenote: SPORTSMEN] What Piccadilly and the neighbourhood of the "White Horse Cellar" were like in the times of Tom and Jerry, we may easily discover from the contemporary pages of "Real Life in London," written by one "Bob Tallyho," recounting the adventures of himself and "Tom Dashall." A prize-fight was to be held on Copthorne Common between Jack Randall, "the Nonpareil"--called in the pronunciation of that time the "Nunparell"--and Martin, endeared to "the Fancy" as the "Master of the Rolls."[1] Naturally, the roads were thronged, and "Piccadilly was all in motion--coaches, carts, gigs, tilburies, whiskies, buggies, dogcarts, sociables, dennets, curricles, and sulkies were passing in rapid succession, intermingled with tax-carts and waggons decorated with laurel, conveying company of the most varied description. Here was to be seen the dashing _Corinthian_ tickling up his _tits_, and his _bang-up set-out_ of _blood and bone_, giving the go-by to a _heavy drag_ laden with eight brawny, bull-faced blades, smoking their way down behind a skeleton of a horse, to whom, in all probability, a good feed of corn would have been a luxury; _pattering_ among themselves, occasionally _chaffing_ the more elevated drivers by whom they were surrounded, and pushing forward their nags with all the ardour of a British merchant intent upon disposing of a valuable cargo of foreign goods on 'Change. There was a waggon full of _all sorts_ upon the _lark_, succeeded by a _donkey-cart_ with four insides: but _Neddy_, not liking his burthen, stopped short in the way of a dandy, whose horse's head, coming plump up to the back of the crazy vehicle at the moment of its stoppage, threw the rider into the arms of a dustman, who, hugging his _customer_ with the determined grasp of a bear, swore, d--n his eyes, he had saved his life, and he expected he would stand something handsome for the Gemmen all round, for if he had not pitched into their cart he would certainly have broke his neck; which being complied with, though reluctantly, he regained his saddle, and