The sixteenth or seventeenth-century boy could own his “Jack and the Giants” and “Guy of Warwick,” his “Hector of Troy” and “Hercules of Greece”; he could even have the latest imported novelty. Some believe that because Shakespeare based many of his plays upon Continental legends, a demand was started for such chap-books as “Fortunatus,” “Titus Andronicus,” or “Valentine and Orson.” The printers of these crude booklets were on the alert for every form of writing having a popular appeal; there was rivalry among them as there is rivalry among publishers to-day. Not long after the appearance of the English translation of Perrault’s “Tales of Mother Goose,” each one of them, given a separate and attractive form--“Blue-beard” in awful ferocity, “Cinderella” in gorgeous apparel, and the others--was made into a chap-book. In Ashton, we find mention of an early catalogue “of Maps, Prints, Copy-books, Drawing-books, Histories, Old Ballads, Patters, Collections, etc., printed and sold by Cluer Dicey and Richard Marshall at the Printing-Office in Aldermary (4) Church Yard, London. Printed in the year MDCCLXIV.” These men appear to have been important chap-book publishers. The hawkers, who went through the streets and who travelled the country-side, much as our pioneer traders were accustomed to do, were termed chapmen. They were eloquent in the manner of describing their display; they were zealous as to their line of trade. Imagine, if you will, the scene in some isolated village--the wild excitement when the good man arrived. He was known to Piers Plowman in 1362, he perhaps wandered not far away from the Canterbury Pilgrims; each of Chaucer’s Tales might well be fashioned as a chap-book. Along the dusty highway this old-time peddler travelled, with packet on his back and a stout staff in hand--such a character maybe as Dougal Grahame, hunch-backed and cross-eyed--by professions, a town crier and bellman, as well as a trader in literature. On his tongue’s tip he carried the latest gossip; he served as an instrument of cross-fertilisation, bringing London-town in touch with Edinburgh or Glasgow, and with small hamlets on the way. “Do you wish to know, my lady,” he would ask, “how fares the weather on the morrow?” From the depths of his packet he would draw “The Shepherd’s Prognostication” (1673), wherein is told that “the blust’ring and noise of leaves and trees and woods, or _other places_ is a token of foul weather.” “And prithee, mistress,” he would add, “I have a warning herein for you. A mole on the forehead denotes fair riches, but yonder brown spot on your eyebrow bids me tell you to refrain from marriage, for if he marry you, he shall have seven wives in his life-time!”