You must now [...] travel down with us from Wimmy [Wimbledon] to Liphook, where we slept on the 19th, and from whence we departed early on the next day, and arrived at Portsmouth about twelve.  Now you must shake off all the ideas of quiet, fresh air, and rest, which may be in your mind, to fancy yourself in the town of Portsmouth, au beau milieu of the fair, the expedition, and Lord Gambier’s court-martial. The street was one continued rattle and gingle [sic], produced by bells ringing, organs grinding, wild beasts roaring, and all the variety of noises attending booths, crockery shops, giants, dwarfs, monkeys, women without legs, girls with pink eyes, fat children, and two-headed cows, which, besides puppet shows and dancing dogs, were drawn up in battle array, to be looked at by the shoals of drunken people of every sex and age, who were reeling and bellowing about from one sight to another.