The introduction of the flowing wig, with its long curls covering the shoulders, gave a final blow to the falling band; {337}the ends floating and tied in front could alone be visible. In time they diminished in size, and the remains are still seen in the laced bands of the lawyer, when in full dress, and the homely bordered cambric slips used by the clergy. The laced cravat now introduced continued in fashion until about the year 1735.[986] It was at its height when Pepys writes in his diary: "Lord's Day, Oct. 19, 1662. Put on my new lace band, and so neat it is that I am resolved my great expense shall be lace bands, and it will set off anything else the more." The band was edged with the broadest lace. In the _Newes_, January 7th, 1663, we find: "Lost, a laced band, the lace a quarter of a yard deep, and the band marked in the stock with a B." Mrs. Pepys--more thrifty soul--"wears her green petticoat of Florence satin, with white and black gimp lace of her own putting on (making), which is very pretty." The custom, already common in France, of ladies making their own lace, excites the ire of the writer of _Britannia Languens_, in his "Discourse upon Trade."[987] "The manufacture of linen,"[988] he says, "was once the huswifery of English ladies, gentlewomen, and other women;" now "the huswifery women of England employ themselves in making an ill sort of lace, which serves no national or natural necessity." The days of Puritan simplicity were at an end. "Instead of homespun coifs were seen Good pinners edged with Colberteen."[989] The laced cravat succeeded the falling collar. Lace handkerchiefs[990] were the fashion, and "Gloves laced and trimmed as fine as Nell's."[991] {338}Laced aprons, which even found their way to the homes of the Anglican clergy, and appear advertised as "Stolen from the vicarage house at Amersham in Oxfordshire: An apron of needlework lace, the middle being Network, another Apron laced with cut and slash lace."[992] The newspapers crowd with losses of lace, and rarer--finds.[993] They give us, however, no clue to the home manufacture. "A pasteboard box full of laced linen, and a little portmanteau with some white and grey Bone lace,"[994] would seem to signify a lace much made two hundred years ago, of which we have ourselves seen specimens from Dalecarlia, a sort of guipure, upon which the pattern is formed by the introduction of an unbleached thread, which comes out in full relief--a fancy more curious than pretty.