Hot-water plates of Canton china did every well-regulated and substantial New England family own, deep hollow vessels, with their strong heavy bottoms and little open ears. Not very practical nor convenient of use were they—or, at least, so it seems to us nowadays. And another and common form of coarse blue and white Chinese ware which our grandmothers had by the score need not be despised by china collectors—the old, high-shouldered ginger-jars that fifty and seventy-five years ago were so good in color. Some are mammoth jars holding nearly a gallon, that are decorated with a chrysanthemum pattern in clear dark blue, and when set on the top of a corner cupboard need not fear even the proximity of a cabinet specimen of costly old hawthorn. A few members of the aristocracy of ginger-jars exist, not in common plebeian blue and white, but with a greenish ground covered with red and yellow enamelled flowers. These were never sold in China, but were used as presentation jars, being usually given by some Chinese grandee or trader to some Yankee sea-captain, or sent to America as a token of respect to some American merchant or ship-owner. They sell readily for $5 each in an out-of-the-way antique shop, for thirty in a fashionable one. Six shockingly dirty specimens were found in a hen-house on an inland farm on Long Island, and after being pumped upon for a long season at the horse-pump, and swept off vigorously with a birch-broom, they revealed their original glories of color, and after a thorough cleansing and disinfecting now grace teak-wood cabinets in New York homes. A very dainty form of Oriental china was seen in many hospitable homes in the beginning of this century, a form now obsolete. I mean a “toddy strainer.” It was a shallow, circular saucer or disk of fine Oriental ware, blue Canton or Nankin, or white and gold Oriental porcelain, and was pierced with tiny holes. It was about four or five inches in diameter and bore two little projecting ears or handles, which were fastened to the body of the strainer by embossed leaves. On the edge of a flip-mug or a toddy glass the ears of the toddy strainer rested when used, and when the toddy was poured from the great punch pitcher into the glass, the strainer prevented the lemon- and orange-seeds from entering the glass below. These toddy strainers are no longer imported in our temperance-ruled and invention-filled days, and being of frail china, have seldom outlived the years when they were in such constant, jovial, and hospitable use. Nor have I seen them elsewhere than in the seaport towns of Narraganset Bay. I fancy some luxury-loving, toddy-drinking, money-spending old Newport merchant invented, explained to the Chinese, and imported to America these pretty porcelain toddy strainers. [Illustration: Chinese Ewer.]