the Western Islands. They are received,
however, rather later in the season, and are
packed in square cases, instead of the peculiar
long boxes in which oranges arrive. A large
proportion of the importation of lemons is
used for confectionary purposes, whilst the
juice is in great demand in the royal and
mercantile navy for the prevention or removal
of scurvy; it is also used for manufacturing
and chemical purposes.

The transport of the three hundred millions
of oranges annually consumed in this country
gives employment to not fewer than two
hundred and twenty clipper-built schooners.
These smart vessels may be seen any day
between December and May discharging
their cargoes at the various wharves of Lower
Thames Street, opposite the great heart of
the British orange world—Botolph and
Pudding Lanes, London. Files of Corporation
fruit-porters (among the sturdiest and longest-
lived samples of vested rights and protected
labour, fostered by the behind-the-age
Municipality of London), staggering under long
cases squeezed in at the middle, issue from
one of those trim schooners, up tall, dangerous
ladders; along wet slippery wharves; under
dark gateways, across crowded muddy Thames
Street; through the mazes of Botolph and
Pudding Lanes, in at a wide portal, and
finally are lost to sight above a huge wooden
sloping grating, not unlike a gigantic plate-
rack.

It is truly wonderful to see how those heavily
laden porters contrive to pass through life
and Botolph Lane without dislocating a few
of their necks, or deranging the economy of
their joints. They appear to be at it all day
long like a busy nest of ants, or a bustling
hive of bees; and one can but wonder what
becomes of such myriads of oranges, and how
many fairs and races they go to; how many
bottles of ginger-beer and bills of the play
will be disposed of in their society; and
finally, how many falls on the pavement their
rinds will occasion.

The huge warehouses in Botolph and
Pudding Lanes are the great fruit
emporiums of our metropolis. There floor
upon floor, story upon story, may be seen
piled and heaped and blocked up with
chests, boxes, sacks, baskets, barrels, all
bursting with their rich fruitiness. In cold
dark stone cellars, in lofty ground floors, in
topmost cock-loft, not a foot of space is
wasted; every square yard is economised,
and made to perform its utmost
functions. Grapes, chestnuts, pine-apples, pears,
citrous, hazel-nuts, oranges and lemons, all
are there in overwhelming abundance, in
waggon-loads, in heaped-up piles, in towering
pyramids.

A busier and a noisier scene is going on in
another part of the great "orange territory."
In Monument Yard is one of the largest fruit
firms in this metropolis—in the world. They
are the brokers who, almost daily during the
season, hold auctions of the fruits they have
on hand. In a long, not over cleanly room,
looking out upon the great stone Monument,
are some desks, a solid table, and rows of
benches, on which, in all sorts of attitudes,
are to be seen all sorts of fruit buyers. When
pine-apples, grapes, and French and Dutch
soft fruit are on sale, the assembly will be
rather more select; but for the orange and
lemon business, the company comprises several
West-end buyers, with a motley crew of noisy
greasy folks from the purlieus of Duke's
Place, Covent Garden and Spitalfields. Those
men it is who, buying the fruit in lots of
eight cases, retail them out at a good profit to
costermongers and small shopkeepers.

We have said before, that the earliest
oranges brought to the market command a
high fancy price, and are eagerly bought up.
Besides this inducement, there is not a little
spirit of rivalry amongst the different fruit
brokers, and it is always a great point to be
the first in the market with new fruit. To
attain this great efforts are made. Steamers
are now used to bring the first parcels
of oranges from Portugal, whilst the fastest
sailing clipper schooners are engaged for the
first shipments of the Saint Michael crop.
Here we find the railway stepping in, and
accomplishing what was never before thought
of. The London and South- Western Railway
keeps up a continuous stream of traffic
between the Southampton waters and the
Thames. So much energy, indeed, has lately
been thrown into this line, that Southampton
is thought by many to bid fair at no very
distant day to become a huge London Dock
and bonded warehouse.

Let us see what this company does for the
orange dealers of London.

The fruit sales in Monument Yard have
not yet come on; the noisy room is empty; a
dozen clerks have totalled up the day's work.
The principals are about to leave their desks,
when lo! a telegraphic message from
Southampton gives them notice that one of their
orange clippers is in sight off the port. All is
bustle in the office at Monument Yard, and
in a few minutes circulars are conveyed by
messengers to the buyers north, south, east
and west of the metropolis, informing them
that by ten o'clock on the following morning
their first parcel of the new Saint Michael
crop will be on view in their ware-rooms.
The orange clipper reaches the Southampton
Docks before night. By an arrangement made
with the Custom-House authorities, a portion
of the cargo is landed "under bond," and in
that state loaded in the covered waggons of
the railway company. Steam soon wafts them
to London. They are safely housed in the
company's depot at Nine Elms. Before break
of day next morning they are loaded in a
barge. A deep fog comes on, promising to
disappoint the fruit buyers equally with the
brokers. The fog clears up, but the tide has
turned dead against the barge bound to