“As a ring is round And hath no end, So is my love Unto my friend.” There is one quaint piece of advice given to all lovers who wish for success in their love affairs. It is on a level with the Shakesperian methods adopted in the conquest of Kate in the “Taming of the Shrew”— “Brisk be to the maide you desire, As her love you may require.” [Illustration: OLD PUZZLE JUG. (Dated 1691.) _Victoria and Albert Museum._] Some of the pronunciation is as curious as the spelling. We know Pope makes “tea” rhyme with “day,” as does the modern Irishman; but in the following lines “join” is evidently pronounced “jine”— “Come, brother, shall we join? Give me your two pence—here is mine” —an invitation issued to the frequenters of some inn where the brown jug bearing the inscription had an abiding place. Another mug essays to point a moral while the toper is draining its contents. The potter who would strew his moral lessons in stoneware had about as much sense of the ludicrous as the gentleman who used to mark the London pavements with the text “Watch and Pray,” which he had printed in reverse on the soles of indiarubber shoes he would wear. On the bottom of a drinking mug the notion is quaint enough— “When this you see, Remember me— Obeay God’s Word.” For our part, we prefer the following, which has a truer ring about it— “Drink faire, Don’t sware.” A large bowl of Bristol delft bears on it “Success to the British Arms.” A fine breezy inscription, dated 1724, smacks of the hunting field. One can hear the rollicking voices of the eighteenth-century squires such as Randolph Caldecott loved to depict. Only two lines, but they ring in one’s ears as a message from the good old times— “On Bansted Down a hare was found, Which led us all a-smoaking round.” Not classical English, perhaps, any more than that of the ladies from town who declare in the family circle of the Vicar of Wakefield that they are in a “muck-sweat.” A set of six plates bear a line of the following inscription on each— “What is a merry man? Let him do what he can To entertain his guests With wine and merry jests; But if his wife does frown All merriment goes doune.” There is an exceedingly interesting Fulham ware flip mug, which bears an inscription on it showing that it once belonged to Alexander Selkirk, from whose adventures Defoe built up his story of “Robinson Crusoe.” Doubtless this mug accompanied the Scots sailor to the lonely island of Juan Fernandez when he set sail with the Cinque Ports galley— “Alexander Selkirke. This is my one. When you take me on board of ship, Pray fill me full with punch or flipp.—1703,” which suggests that it may have been a parting present from one of his friends.