In Newport, in Bristol, in Providence, in Boston—wherever ships could sail from port, and wherever favoring winds wafted them back again, vast stores of this old blue Canton ware have been and can now be found; “tall coffee-pots, with straight spouts, looking like lighthouses with bowsprits; short, clumsy teapots with twisted handles and lids that always fall off;” jugs, tureens, helmet pitchers, and sauce-boats. At the recent disbandment of the family and selling of the home of one of the old presidents of Brown University, a score of old Canton platters were found behind trunks and old furniture under the eaves in the garret. Too heavy, too cumbersome to be used on our modern tables, they were banished to the garret rafters, and there prisoned, were forgotten. In past years when roast-pig and giant turkeys were served on that hospitable board, these great platters proudly held their steaming trophies; but now we have changed all that—the turkey is cut up surreptitiously in some unseen corner, and the blue Canton platters, dusty and cobwebbed, lie forgotten in the garret. These vast stores of blue Canton were doubtless part of the cargo of the Ann and Hope, the beautiful and stanch ship that in 1799 bore into Providence “one hundred and thirty boxes of chinaware in tea and dinner sets.” In 1800 she again brought into port three hundred and sixty-two boxes and one hundred and twenty-four rolls of chinaware, together with such other delightful Oriental importations as two bales of gauze ribbons, seven boxes of lacquered ware, five hundred Chinese umbrellas, sixty bundles of cassia and five boxes of sweetmeats, forty jars of rock-candy, and twenty tubs of sugar-candy. In 1802 came on the Ann and Hope one thousand and forty-eight boxes of chinaware, but, alas! no sugar-candy, or sweetmeats for Providence lads and lasses, but instead forty disappointing boxes of rhubarb.