We know that Dr. Johnson’s wigs were a constant source of trouble, for they were not only dirty and unkempt, but generally burnt away in the front, for being very nearsighted, he often put his head into the candle when poring over his books. Whenever he was staying with the Thrales therefore the butler used to waylay him as he passed in to dinner, and pull off the wig on his head, replacing it with a new one. Ladies rarely appeared without head-dresses of some kind, be it only a bow or an ornamental comb, they seemed to think that a woman should be seen with her head covered in every place as well as in church. Near the end of _Cecilia_ the flighty Lady Honoria cries, “‘Why you know sir as to caps and wigs, they are very serious things, for we should look mighty droll figures to go about bareheaded,’” which shows how entirely custom dictates what appears “mighty droll” or quite ordinary. Wigs were sometimes the cause of ludicrous incidents, as when in the House of Commons Lord North suddenly rising from his seat and going out bore off on the hilt of his sword the wig of Welbore Ellis who happened to be stooping forward. Many people, when wigs began to go out of fashion, powdered their own hair, and of this Besant gives us also an unpleasant but speaking picture: “Among the minor miseries of life is to be mentioned the slipping and sliding of lumps of the powder and pomatum from the head down to the plate at dinner.” Even boys at school wore queues. Of a master at Eton it is said that his management of the boys, excellent in other respects, was in some things amiss, for “he burnt all their ruffles, and cut off their queues.” _The Times_ of April 14, 1795, mentions that: “A numerous club has been formed in Lambeth called the Crop Club, every member of which, on his entrance, is obliged to have his head docked as close as the Duke of Bridgewater’s old bay coach horses. This assemblage is instituted for the purpose of opposing, or rather evading, the tax on powdered heads.” The use of powder is mentioned in Jane Austen’s story _The Watsons_, and is one of the very few touches she gives that carry us backward in time. Mrs. Robert Watson is speaking to her sisters-in-law, “‘I would not make you wait,’ said she, ‘so I put on the first thing I met with. I am afraid I am a sad figure. My dear Mr. W. (addressing her husband) you have not put any fresh powder in your hair.’ “‘No, I do not intend it, I think there is powder enough in my hair for my wife and sisters.’ “‘Indeed, you ought to make some alteration in your dress before dinner when you are out visiting, though you do not at home.’ “‘Nonsense!’ “Dinner came, and except when Mrs. Robert looked at her husband’s head she continued gay and flippant.”