To walk down the various passages between the seats, and run the eye over the several heaps of refuse, piled on the ground like treasure, was to set the mind wondering as to what could possibly be the uses of each and every of them. Everything there seemed to have fulfilled to the very utmost the office for which it was made; and now that its functions were finished, and it seemed to be utterly worthless, the novice to such scenes could not refrain from marvelling what remaining purpose could possibly give value to “the rubbish.” The buyers, too, were as picturesque and motley a group almost as were the sellers—for the purchasers were of all nations, and habited in every description of costume. Some were Greeks, others were Swiss, while others were Germans. Some had come there to buy up the old rough charity clothing, and the army grey great-coats, for the “Irish” market; others had come to purchase the hareskins or old furs, or to give “the best price” for old tea-pots and tea-urns. One man, with a long flowing beard and greasy tattered gaberdine, was said to be worth thousands; thither he had come to add another sixpence to his hoard, by dabbling in the rags and refuse, strewn about the ground in heaps, for sale: others were there to purchase the old Wellingtons, and to have them new-fronted or their cracks heel-balled over, and then vended to clerks, who are “expected to appear respectable” on the smallest salaries. That Jewess is intent on buying up the left-off wardrobes “of the nobility,” so as to dispose of the faded finery to the actresses of the minor theatres, or the “gay” ladies of the upper boxes. Yonder old Israelite, who goes prowling between the seats, is looking out for such black garments as will admit of being “clobbered” up, or “turned” into “genteel suits” for poor curates, or half-paid ushers of classical academies. Nor does he reject those which are worn even threadbare in parts, for he well knows they will admit of being transformed into the “best boys’ tunics;” while such as are too far gone for _that_, he buys to be torn to pieces by the “devil,” and made up again into new cloth, or “shoddy,” as it is termed; and others, which his practised eye tells him have already done that duty, he bids for, knowing that they will still fetch him a good price, even as manure for the ground. Some of the buyers have come principally to purchase the old silk hats—and as they wander among the heaps of old clothes, and rags, and metal, they stop every now and then, and crumple up the shapes in their hands to try whether they have been—as they call it—“through the fire or not,” and those which will stand the test of their experienced touch, they buy for the shops, to have converted into the “best new hats” for the country. Some, again, are there chiefly to “pick up” the old umbrellas, which they value not only for the whalebone ribs but the metal supporters—the latter articles furnishing the