It is curious to learn how the suburbs of London have grown within the memory of living men. Take, for instance, the following, from _Notes and Queries_ (April, 1857, p. 265), referring to Lamb's Conduit. A correspondent writes that "About sixty years since, I was travelling from the West of England in one of the old stage coaches of that day, and my fellow-travellers were an octogenarian clergyman and his daughter. In speaking of the then increasing size of London, the old gentleman said that when he was a boy, and recovering from an attack of smallpox, he was sent into the country to a row of houses standing on the west side of the present Lamb's Conduit Street; that all the space before him was open fields; that a streamlet of water ran under his window; and he saw a man snipe-shooting, who sprung a snipe near to the house, and shot it." It was no small gift of William Lamb to the City, for it cost him £1,500, which was equivalent to thrice that sum at present, and, to make it complete, he gave to one hundred and twenty poor women, pails wherewith to serve and carry water, whereby they earned an honest, although a somewhat laborious, living. Lamb left many charitable bequests, and also founded a chapel, by Monkwell Street, now pulled down. This Conduit existed until about 1755, when it was demolished, and an obelisk with lamps erected in its place, but, that being found a nuisance, was, in its turn, soon done away with. [Illustration: LAMB'S CONDUIT, SNOW HILL.] Lamb was buried in the Church of St. Faith's, under St. Paul's, and on a pillar was a brass to his memory, which is so quaint, that I make no apology for introducing it. "William Lambe so sometime was my name, Whiles alive dyd runne my mortall race, Serving a Prince of most immortall fame, Henry the Eight, who of his Princely grace In his Chapell allowed me a place. By whose favour, from Gentleman to Esquire I was preferr'd, with worship, for my hire. With wives three I joyned wedlock band, Which (all alive) true lovers were to me, Joane, Alice, and Joane; for so they came to hand, What needeth prayse regarding their degree? In wively truth none stedfast more could be. Who, though on earth, death's force did once dissever, Heaven, yet, I trust, shall joyn us all together. O Lambe of God, which sinne didst take away; And as a Lambe, was offred up for sinne, Where I (poor Lambe) went from thy flock astray, Yet thou, good Lord, vouchsafe thy Lambe to winne Home to thy folde, and holde thy Lambe therein; That at the day, when Lambes and Goates shall sever, Of thy choice Lambes, Lambe may be one for ever. I pray you all, that receive Bread and Pence, To say the Lord's Prayer before ye go hence." It is said, also, that the old verses, so well known, were appended to the brass, or, rather, engraved on his tombstone.