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ROTTEN ROW, HYDE PARK (SEE TEXT, PAGE 593)

The name of this famous bridle path is possibly a corruption of Route du Roi (King's Drive). It is an excellent sand track reserved for riders, who may gallop without much danger of a fall. On fine Sundays the "church parade" after the service and before luncheon takes ace on the footpaths on both sides of the Row and attracts crowds of sight seers.

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THE BEAUTY IN PROPORTION AND PERSPECTIVE OF ST. PAUL'S CATHEDRAL CAN BE APPRECIATED ONLY FROM AN AIRPLANE

The masterpiece of Sir Christopher Wren is so hemmed in by streets and houses that it must be "loved from a distance." preferably from the
river, where its great dome looms forth in all its majesty. In this national cathedral England has enshrined or commemorated many of her soldier and
sailor sons and other illustrious dead. St. Paul's has also been the scene of ceremonials of national mourning and rejoicing, notable among the latter
being a service held in 1917 to celebrate the entry of the United States into the World War (see, also, text, page 581).

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THE AIRMAN'S VIEW OF THE LARGEST RAILWAY DEPOT IN THE BRITISH ISLES

Central Aerophoto Co., Ltd.

More than 1,100 trains are handled daily from the 21 platforms of Waterloo Station, which covers an area of 241⁄2 acres. Reconstruction of the terminus was completed in 1922, at a cost of more than $9,700,000. Architecturally, Waterloo Station is one of the finest in the world. A noteworthy feature of the new building is the Victory Arch War Memorial, incorporated in the north entrance and commemorating the 585 employees who lost their lives in the World War.

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Of a Sunday morning Petticoat Lane is still the most interesting spot in London. It is here that one goes to buy back his stolen dog, or to lay in a supply of chickens, cats, white mice, jellied eels, Eastern silks, or camels for the coming week. Once I saw a bear offered there. Elephants have been sold on its exchange.

One does not walk through the Sunday morning crowd here. One takes a long breath and commits himself to the stream, at the imminent peril of his buttons.

It was with some trepidation that we bussed it down the Commercial highroad from Aldgate in search of the Limehouse Causeway and Penny Field. This is London's Chinatown, We sniffed the air for the black smoke, we listened for the sounds of murder, we peered into each open door for one of the "broken blossoms" we had been led to believe haunted these thoroughfares of vice. The streets were dirty, sordid, and uninteresting. As for danger: "Ho!" said a large, red-faced policeman. "They be-'ave themselves better than Christians."

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AT NELSON'S TOMB IN ST. PAUL'S

We ride on down Whitechapel and the Mile End Road, whereabouts the Hebrew population mostly centers. One may walk for blocks of a Saturday night here and hardly hear a word of intelligible English. Immensely interesting, colorful, and fragrant; also, well behaved. I am forever being disappointed in the quality of London's wickedness.

PETTICOAT LANE, THE MOST INTERESTING SPOT IN LONDON

St. George Street was once the Ratcliff Highway, in which not a night passed without a cold-blooded murder. Now one is safe. A bit of asking will find Middlesex Street, which was once Petticoat Lane. Why, one wonders, should these old names be changed?

True, here and there a bland Chinese smoked a cigarette and we sometimes glanced into closepacked rooms where Orientals of sorts sat reading, sewing on buttons, and playing odd games.

Back to the bus for the long, jolting return to Aldgate and a pedestrian excursion to St. Olave's Church in Hart Street, one of the few churches that lived through the Fire. Here worshiped Samuel Pepys, the diarist-whose name, by the way, was pronounced peepes in his day-and it is

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This finest of London thoroughfares was constructed, under act of Parliament of 1813, to provide direct access from Carlton House, the residence of the Prince Regent, to the Regent's Park. The architectural character of the street has been greatly changed since the World War by the erection of imposing retail establishments similar to that at the right of the picture.

there that he caused to be set up the portrait bust of his rather ill-used young wife.

In a corner we found the monument erected by the Davison and Newman families. "But why?" we asked of the verger, who regarded us breathlessly.

"They are the tea merchants whose cargo was dumped in Boston Harbor," said he, "and brought on the American Revolution; and only yesterday I bought my tea from the same firm."

ALL HISTORY AND NARROW STREETS It wasn't worth while to debate his American history. We got back on the

bus, to go through Leadenhall and Cornhill toward the Bank (see page 567).

Nothing but history here-history and a myriad narrow, twisting streets, through which pattered a multitude of busy men. Why do the English sneer at our American hurry? Surely the New Yorkers themselves do not pant more breathlessly through their days than these city dwellers.

We ask a policeman-all visitors to London are forever asking policemen and are always courteously answered-and he tells us where to find the sights.

Lloyd's new building, where the associated agents will issue insurance policies against any conceivable disaster (fire

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