FOUR YEARS 1887?1891.
At the end of the eighties my father and mother, my brother and sisters and myself, all newly arrived from Dublin, were settled in Bedford Park in a red?brick house with several wood mantlepieces copied from marble mantlepieces by the brothers Adam, a baly, and a little garden shadowed by a great horse?chestnut tree. Years before we had lived there, when the crooked, ostentatiously picturesque streets, with great trees casting great shadows, had been ahusiasm: the Pre?Raphaelite movement at last affeg life. But now exaggerated criticism had taken the place of enthusiasm; the tiled roofs, the first in modern London, were said to leak, which they did not, & the drains to be bad, though that was no lorue; and I imagihat houses were cheap. I remember feeling disappointed because the co?operative stores, with their little seveh tury panes, were so like any on shop; and because the public house, called The Tabard
after Chaucers Inn, was so plainly a on public house; and because the gre……（内容加载失败！）
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