CASTERS. Ordinary Queen Anne examples bring 50s. to 60s. per oz.; George I and George II, 25s. to 35s. per oz.; George III and George IV, 18s. to 20s. per oz. Later specimens only fetch 5s. to 12s. per oz. Rare and earlier examples bring higher prices, e.g.: £ William and Mary (1701), 225s. per oz. 112 Queen Anne (2), (1713), 115s. per oz. 72 SUGAR-BOWLS. The average prices are roughly as follows: George I, 60s. to 80s. per oz.; George II, 20s. to 50s. per oz.; George III, 8s. to 50s. per oz. (varying from engraved and fluted to pierced and applied ornament); George IV, 7s. (fluted) to 35s. per oz. (pierced and applied ornament); William IV, 6s. to 20s. per oz. Exceptional pieces of course bring exceptional prices. A sugar-basket of 1725, by Paul Lamerie, sold in 1909 for £113, at 195s. per oz. A set of three George III (1763) sugar vases and covers were sold at the Ashburnham Sale in March 1914, for £214, at 135s. per oz. X THE CREAM-JUG [Illustration: GEORGE II HELMET-SHAPED JUG. LONDON, 1736. Maker, Paul de Lamerie. (_By courtesy of Messrs. Crichton Brothers._)] CHAPTER X THE CREAM-JUG The eighteenth-century tea-table and its accessories--The beauty of the cream-jug--Its evolution in form during a century. “I must further advise you, Harriet,” says a lady in the _Fool of Quality_, in admonishing her daughter, “not to heap such mountains of sugar into your tea, nor to pour such a deluge of cream in; people will certainly take you for the daughter of a dairymaid. There is young Fanny Quirp, who is a lady by birth, and she has brought herself to the perfection of never suffering the tincture of her tea to be spoilt by whitening, nor the flavour to be adulterated by a grain of sweet.” This was published from 1766 to 1770 and indicates that a set of rules for observance was afoot in a time when etiquette was formal. But if cream was neglected by some precisians, the cream-jug bears evidence that in many circles it was a welcome and possibly very necessary addition to the strong green tea then drunk. It was etiquette to place the spoon in the cup to show the hostess that no more tea was required. It was the custom at Scottish tea-tables and possibly elsewhere to have numbered spoons. The guests did not ask for a second cup until all the other guests had finished the first. Hence the cups were passed up to the hostess and the spoons numbered to ensure that each got his own again. Sir Alexander Boswell in his poem “Edinburgh” writes: The red stone teapot with its silver spout, The teaspoons numbered and the tea filled out; Though patience fails, and though with thirst he burns, All, all must wait till the last cup returns. The silver strainer had apparently become obsolete in Sir Walter Scott’s day, for he writes in _St. Ronan’s Well_: