Fig. 64 represents a still simpler form of Queen Anne writing-table on solid walnut cabriole legs. The drawer fronts and top are veneered and inlaid with simple bands. This specimen has a value of about £5. The photograph was supplied by Mr. Springett, of Rochester. This form of table and the one previously illustrated are sometimes described as dressing-tables. They were probably used for both purposes, and they certainly lend themselves to either use. One of the most useful forms of the escritoire, or bureau, is of the type given in Figs. 65 and 66. It was bought recently in Mid-Somerset at a cost of thirty pounds. This type is made in two sections, sometimes with bracketed feet and sometimes with ball feet. The bureau under consideration is of an average size, being 5 ft. 3 in. high, 3 ft. 7 in. wide, and 19 in. deep. It is of rectangular form and the falling front, which serves as a writing-table, is supported by jointed steel rods. The opened front discloses an assemblage of drawers and pigeon-holes. The pigeon-holes at the top pull out in four sections, and behind are hidden numerous small drawers. Other secret drawers are so ingeniously contrived that they can only be discovered on pulling out the visible drawers and the dividing pieces on which the drawers run. The middle member of the cornice details forms the front of a shallow drawer running the whole length and depth of the bureau top. This bureau, which contains in all about thirty drawers and recesses, is built of red deal overlaid with thick veneers of walnut and fine knotted pollard oak of dark hue, with cross-banded edges of walnut in various shades. The visible drawers are of oak throughout, whilst the hidden ones are oak-bodied with red deal fronts to match the lining of the main structure--thus ingeniously disguising their presence. We have seen specimens of the same type entirely veneered with walnut and others inlaid with marquetry. These bureaux, dating from about 1690 well into Queen Anne's reign, have selling values of from £25 to £35. There must be an added sentimental pleasure in sitting at an escritoire which was possibly the treasured possession of a pamphleteer or diarist of the last years of the rebellion: an æsthetic joy in rummaging amongst the secret drawers which contained the journals in cypher of the wire-pullers of the new monarchy. CHAPTER VII: CLOCKS AND CLOCK-CASES