fishmonger will supply us with better fish without making so much noise over it; and if he charges a higher price it is only the indubitable right of a respectable tradesman and a ratepayer. Then comes on the scene, and determined to have a voice--and a loud one, too, in the morning's hullabaloo, the costermonger--Bill Smith, he declares with stentorian lungs that his cherries, plums, apples, pears, turnips, carrots, cabbages, _cow_cumbers, _sparrow_-grass, _colly_-flow-ers, _inguns_, _ru-bub_, and _taters_, is, and allus vos rounder, sounder, longer, stronger, heavier, fresher, and ever-so-much cheaper than any shopkeeping greengrocer as ever vos: Why? "Vy? cos he don't keep not no slap-up shop vith all plate-glass vinders and a 'andsom sixty-five guinea 'oss and trap to take the missus and the kids out on-a-arternoon, nor yet send his sons and darters to a boarding school to larn French, German, Greek, nor playing on the pianoforte." All this may be very true; but Bill Smith, the costermonger, is a noisy vulgar fellow; therefore must be put down. Mrs. Curate, Mrs. Lawyer, Mrs. Chemist, and Miss Seventy-four must be taught to go to the greengrocer of the district, Mr. Manners, a highly respectable man, a Vestryman and a Churchwarden, who keeps:-- PLATE, WAITERS, AND LINEN FOR HIRE. N.B.--EVENING PARTIES ATTENDED. As the morning wears on we have:--"I say!--I say!! Old hats I buy," "Rags or bones," "Hearthstones," "Scissors to grind--pots, pans, kettles or old umbrellas to mend," "Old clo! clo," "Cat or dog's meat," "Old china I mend," "Clothes props," "Any old chairs to mend?" "Any ornaments for your fire stove," "Ripe strawberries," "Any hare skins,"--"rabbit skins," "Pots or pans--jugs or mugs," "I say, Bow! wow! and they are all a-growing and a-blowing--three pots for sixpence," and other regular acquaintances, with the occasional accompaniment of the dustman's bell, conclude the morning's performance, which, altogether is reminiscent of the "Market Chorus" in the opera of _Masaniello_; and if the public quiet is to be protected, our sapient Town Councillors would abolish one and all of these, dustman included. One of the latest innovations upon the peace and happiness of an invalid, an author, or a quiet-loving resident, is the street vendor of coals. "Tyne Main," or "Blow-me-Tight's," Coals! "C-o-a-l-s, _one and tuppence a underd--see'em weighed_." This is the New Cry. Small waggons, attended by a man and a boy, go to our modern railway sidings to be filled or replenished with sacks containing 56 lbs. or 112 lbs. of coals, and then proceed to the different suburban quiet neighbourhoods, where the man and boy commence a kind of one done the other go on duet to the above words, which is enough to drive the strongest trained one crazy. All the great coal merchants seem to have adopted this method of retailing coals, and have thus caused the almost total abolition of coal sheds, and the