But to return. We may see, from what we have stated and quoted, that up to a comparatively recent period the written name seems to have been anything but customary even in the metropolis. Any one who will look into a book printed up to the seventeenth century will see on the titlepage the fact stated that it was published or sold at the sign of the ‘Stork,’ or ‘Crown,’ or ‘Peacock,’ or ‘Crane,’ as the case might be. How much we owe to this fashion I need scarcely say. The Hundred Rolls contain not merely a ‘Henry le Hatter,’ but a ‘Thomas del Hat;’ not only an ‘Adam le Lorimer,’ but a ‘Margery de Styrop.’ It is to some dealer in earthenware we owe our existing ‘Potts,’ some worker in metals our ‘Hammers,’ some carpenter our ‘Coffins,’ once synonymous with ‘Coffer,’ some osierbinder our ‘Basketts,’ some shoemaker our ‘Lasts,’ some cheesemonger our ‘Cheeses,’ some plowright our ‘Plows,’ some silversmith our ‘Spoons’ and ‘Silverspoons,’ and some cooper our ‘Tubbs’ and ‘Cades,’ our ‘Barrills’ and ‘Punshons,’ and so on with endless others. It was perfectly natural that all these should become surnames, that the same practice which led to men being called in the less populous country by such names as ‘Ralph atte Townsend,’ or ‘William atte Stile,’ or ‘Henry atte Hatch,’ or ‘Thomas atte Nash,’ should in the more closely inhabited city cause men to be distinguished as ‘Hugh atte Cokke,’ or ‘Walter de Whitehorse,’ or ‘John atte Gote’ or ‘de la Gote,’ or ‘Richard de la Vache,’ or ‘Thomas atte Ram,’ or ‘William atte Roebuck,’ or ‘Gilbert de la Hegle,’ or ‘John de la Roe,’ or ‘Reginald de la Wonte’ (weasel). Our only surprise would be were the case otherwise. Nevertheless, as we shall see in another chapter, many of these animal-names at least have arisen in another manner also.