One or more streets for a space run conterminous with it--the wall on one side, the low cottage-houses on the other, and their chimneys are below the coping.
It does not really encircle the town, yet it seems everywhere, and is the great fact of the place.
If you wander about examining this wall, and wondering where it begins and where it ends, and what is inside, you may perchance come upon a gateway of noble proportions.

It is open, but one hesitates to pass through, despite the pleasant vista of trees and green sward beyond.

There is a watchman's wooden hut, and the aged sentinel is reading his newspaper in the shadow, his breast decorated with medal and clasp, that tell of honourable service.

A scarlet-coated soldier may, too, be strolling thereabout, and the castellated top of a barrack-like building near at hand is suggestive of military force.

You hesitate, but the warden invites you to walk at your leisure under the old trees, and along the endless glades.