one John Robinson's possession, the following
articles were found:—a flowered silk morning
gown and mantle, some women's point sleeves,
a pair of gold and red coloured fringed
gloves, a tabby print watered waistcoat,
a sad minerum coloured coat—what
colour could this have been?—with frost
buttons, and button-holes edged with gold purl.
But for minute descriptions, both of man
and horse, perhaps the following advertisement
for the apprehension of John Catchmead
surpasses all. Twenty-four years of age,
of middle stature, something haughty in
speech and carriage, very light-coloured hair,
more like a short perriwig, little beard, face
somewhat reddish, by reason of the small
pox, but of cheerful countenance. He used
to wear a grey hat, a sad-coloured coat, and
used to travel about the country to sell rugs
and coverlids. He went off with a bay mare
of long body, and thick fore legs, hooked
nose, and sour countenance. Only the accustomed
forty shillings are offered for the
apprehension of this remarkable pair.

Towards the season of Christmas and the
New Year we might expect to find some
advertisements of Christmas fare—raisins
of the sun, or Jordan almonds, or dates,
then always used to give mincemeat a quality
flavour, but there are no such announcements;
and then we call to remembrance
that in those days the important science of
puffing was quite in its infancy; that our
great great grandmothers dealt with the
grocers and linen drapers, whose fathers had
served their fathers and mothers before them,
and that so far, simple souls, from welcoming
thrilling advertisements of goods below cost
price, and articles at a ruinous sacrifice, they
would have shaken their heads, and at once,
in their imagination, have consigned the
unfortunate puffer to the Counter, or more
probably to New Bedlam. The following is the
nearest approach to the modern style of
advertisement:

A small parcel of most excellent tea is, by
accident, fallen into the hands of a private
person to be sold, but that none may be
disappointed, the lowest price is thirty shillings
a pound, and not any to be sold under a
pound weight, for which they are desired to
bring a convenient box. Inquire of Mr.
Thomas Eagle, King's Head Street, St.
James's Market.

Thirty shillings a pound, at a time when
money was more than double its present value!
Truly, a dish of tea in these days was a
veritable draught of aurum potabile.

With the following very different advertisement,
which appears in the Domestic Intelligence
of December twenty-sixth, we must
conclude: Whereas, on Thursday, the
eighteenth, Mr. John Dryden was assaulted
and wounded in Rose Street, Covent Garden,
by divers men unknown: If any person make
discovery of the offenders to the said Mr.
John Dryden, or any justice of the peace, he
shall not only receive fifty pounds, which is
deposited in the hands of Mr. Blanchard,
goldsmith, next door to Temple Bar, but if
the discoverer be one of the actors, he shall
have the fifty pounds without letting his
name be known, or receiving the least trouble
of any prosecution.

CHIP.
JUSTICE IS SATISFIED.

IT requires a certain amount of moral
courage to wear a felt hat—particularly one of
the Hecker, or conically wide-awake form. I
wear one, and shall continue to do so. I find
that it requires no brushing; that I can sit
upon it, fold it up into a very small compass,
and put it into my pocket, if I like; that it
lasts a long time, and never gets shabby;
that it is very cheap, and of sufficiently
humble appearance to render its being stolen
or exchanged for a worse very improbable.
Moreover, I am bound to my felt hat by
strong ties of gratitude, for it once saved me
from having my head broken.

I was making a short stay in Berlin, that
large, square, sour-soup-smelling city.
Desirous of seeing what life after dark in the
capital of Prussia was like, I went one night
to an establishment, the KÅ“nig's Something,
where there was plenty of music and dancing
(with a strict government license, you may
be sure), and immense quantities of beer and.
tobacco. Though an Englander, I was gallant
enough to offer my partner, at the conclusion
of a waltz, a glass of Bavarian beer; which she
was good enough to accept, and to partake of
to her own apparent satisfaction, but to the
undisguised distaste of a young man with a
ring on his thumb, her former partner, who
was so long and lanky in stature, so unctuous
and tawny in face, hair, and attire, that he
put me in mind of one of the well-greased
poles, up which fellows at country fairs were
accustomed to climb for legs of mutton. I
think I was endeavouring to explain this (in
execrable German) to the fair beer-drinker,
when this jealous man began to be rude and
insulting to the lady, to me, and to the land
of my birth and to her sons in general. I
resented his insolence; high words ensued,
followed by very low ones (on his part) but no
blows; partly because there were several
policemen in the room, partly, perhaps,
because the oleaginous Othello believed in the
tradition common all over the continent, that
every Englishman, of whatever rank or size,
has been trained from his youth upwards in
the science and practice of the "boaxe," and
hits hard and true. I went away from the
KÅ“nig's whatever its name was, shortly afterwards,
and had forgotten all about the greasy
man; when turning the corner of the street,
I received a tremendous blow with some
blunt instrument on the back of the head, or
of the hat rather, for the trusty felt opposed