There is to-day such a craze for what is old, that it is difficult to find anything that is not faked. I often wonder, when dining with friends, if they are aware of the real nature and origin of the glass they use. On the other hand, one finds in some places, particularly old country houses, pieces almost priceless pushed away into corners as if they were of no value at all. I remember some years ago finding in a village not far from Liverpool, an old dame, who had passed her life as housekeeper to a wealthy merchant, using a fine, genuine old Waterford bowl, about 18 inches in diameter, for stewed fruit. The bowl was easily worth from eighteen to twenty guineas, while the plates on the table were the commonest procurable. Needless to say, that bowl is no longer in her possession, having been replaced by a substitute of far greater appeal to her. In spite of such occasional finds as this, the amateur who in pursuit of his hobby makes a habit of raiding old country cottages, shops, and inns, must be exceedingly wary and look upon exceptional discoveries with an exceedingly sceptical eye. An amusing experience that befell a friend of the author’s--a foreign glass merchant--is perhaps worth recounting in this connection. Arriving one day at an inn in the south of England, he was surprised to find set out in the place of honour some very inferior specimens of wine glasses--reproductions of an early type which he was easily able to identify as his own manufacture. Entering into conversation with the landlord, he was informed that a distant ancestor of that worthy, soldiering in Ireland, had the fortune to render some signal service to a native of that distressful country and was given the glass in token of gratitude. Apart from the appropriateness of the gift, and a certain improbability that articles of such fragility would survive the vicissitudes of a campaign, the landlord proved not only willing but eager to dispose of his valued heirlooms at a price unexpectedly moderate for pieces of such antiquity and rarity. The humour of the situation, however, developed when the prospective purchaser produced a pocket-book and read to the astonished landlord the last order his firm had received for “one dozen imitation antique glasses with twisted stems at twenty-one shillings a dozen.” The difference between this and the thirty shillings apiece which the landlord demanded left a very pretty margin of profit.