A few signs not sculptured are, I think, worth alluding to. One of the quaintest is composed of blue and yellow Dutch tiles, and was doubtless once fixed near the entrance of a coffee-house, but unfortunately no record of it has been preserved. It is about twenty inches high, and represents a boy with long hair, in seventeenth-century costume, somewhat like that of the modern Bluecoat boys. He is standing, and pouring out coffee; by his side is a table, with appliances for drinking, and tobacco pipes, and above, on a scroll, the words ‘DISH OF COFFEE BOY.’ A sign of this kind in remarkable preservation, and finely executed, is the Cock and Bottle--three to four feet high, and worked in blue and white Dutch tiles with an ornamental border--which came from Cannon Street. The date of this sign is said to be about 1700; the house to which it belonged formerly stood on the south side, and was pulled down in 1853, at the time of the Cannon Street alterations. A public-house (Nos. 94 and 96), still called the Cock and Bottle, occupies the site. A sign of a Dolphin which belongs to the earlier part of the eighteenth century was in 1890 presented by Messrs. Burrup, so long pleasantly connected with the Surrey Cricket Club. It is painted on copper, and comes from a shop on the south side of the old Royal Exchange, where an ancestor of the Burrup family was first established in 1730. A unique relic is the little plate of metal, inscribed as follows: ‘Abraham Bartlett, who makes ye boulting mills and cloathes, dwells at the sign of the boulting mill at Thames Street, near Queenhith, London, 1678.’ It is surmounted by a grotesque head, and fixed on a thin piece of wood with a ring for hanging it up. The boulting-mill was used for sifting meal by shaking it backwards and forwards, boulting-cloth being a material of loose texture for the meal to pass through. Of doubtful origin is a classically designed figure of a boy in low relief, with foliated border, and the date 1633; the material of this is cast iron. Another curious relic is a wooden statuette of Time, with scythe and hour-glass, which formerly belonged to the clock in the church of St. Giles, Cripplegate. The inscription tells us that it was presented by the churchwardens, who in my opinion ought never to have removed it from the church for which it had been carved, where it was far more appropriately placed than it can possibly be here; though of course one is glad that it is preserved.