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DEAR ST. NICHOLAS:  I went over to my uncle’s one Saturday lately, to tea, and had baked beans.  He never eats vinegar on them, excepting some made in January, 1851, when 40 gallons were frozen in 53 quart bottles.  He told me there was no other such vinegar in the United States, and if I could hear of any one who has some prepared like it, and as old, he would give me as handsome a doll as I wanted.  My object is to ask you to please publish my letter, and I may receive the doll, which I want very much, and oblige, with many thanks, one of your subscribers.

    L.D.H.

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    London, England.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS:  We are traveling in Europe for a short time, and I thought, perhaps, you might like to hear a short account of our journey.  First, we went to Chester, one of the oldest cities in England.  It is inclosed by a wall two miles around, which was built 1800 years ago.  The “Rows” of Chester are very strange and interesting.  They are rows of stores in the second stories of houses—­with a sidewalk in front, supported by pillars and covered overhead.  One may walk out on a rainy day and do a great variety of shopping without being at all exposed to the weather.  The sidewalks below these rows, and on a level with the middle of the street are dingy and shabby, lined with forlorn looking little places inhabited by the poorer class.

    There is an old house standing in an alley, in the garret of which
    one of the earls of Derby was hidden for three months.

A small part of an old church, which was built 200 A. D., still stands, and is one of the curiosities.  There is also a tower where King Charles II stood and saw his army defeated, only, that was before he became king.  Next we went to Stratford-on-Avon, where we saw Shakespeare’s house, and I sat in his chair.

We lunched at the Red Horse Inn, in the room which Washington Irving had when he was there.  I also sat in his chair.  In the afternoon we went to Shakespeare’s other house and gardens.  He had two homes, but he only lived in one until he was seventeen years old.

We are now in London, and have been to see a few of the principal places.  Westminster Abbey is one of the great sights.  We saw a sitting figure of a duchess who died from the effects of lock-jaw, caused by pricking her finger with a needle, while at needle work on Sunday.

We also saw St. Paul’s Cathedral, where there is a whispering gallery, so called, because, if you whisper on one side of the gallery, it may be heard on the other side as distinctly as if you were over there.

    The South Kensington Museum contains a great many curiosities, and
    some of the things which Doctor Schliemann has dug up.

    The National Art Gallery contains a great many beautiful pictures,
    and one room is devoted to Turner’s paintings.