south of Rochester. Mr. Frost, Mr. Hughes, and other "explorers" all have their favourite town. I, myself, had fixed on Maidstone as fulfilling the necessary conditions of having a Mayor and Corporation; as against this choice and that of all the towns that were south of Rochester there was always this fact, that Boz describes the party going up the street as they left Rochester, a route that led them north-east. But the late Miss Dickens—"Mamie" as she was affectionately called—in her pleasing and very natural little book, "My Father as I Recall Him," has casually dropped a hint which puts us on the right track. When driving with her on the "beautiful back road to Cobham once, he pointed out a spot. There it was, he said, where Mr. Pickwick dropped his whip." The distressed travellers had to walk some twelve or fourteen miles—about the distance of Muggleton—which was important enough to have a Mayor and Corporation, etc. We ourselves have walked this road, and it led us to—Gravesend.
