The sheriffs are chosen by the Livery Companies or Trade Associations of London, on the morning of the Feast of St. Michael, and are presented in the Court of Exchequer, accompanied by the Lord Mayor and all the Aldermen, when the Recorder of London introduces the two sheriffs, one for London proper, and the other for Middlesex County, and the Chief Judge in his red robes, signifies the Queen's assent, handing the sheriff's "roll"--a sheet of paper which has had the names of the sheriffs pricked in by the Queen's own hand, the writs and appliances are read and filed, and the sheriffs and senior under-sheriffs take the oaths; when the late sheriffs present their accounts. The crier of the court then makes proclamation for one who does homage for the sheriffs of London to "stand forth and do his duty;" when the senior alderman below the chair rises, the usher of the court hands him a bill-hook, and holds in both hands a small bundle of sticks, which the alderman cuts asunder, and then cuts another bundle with a hatchet. Similar proclamation is then made for the sheriff of Middlesex, when the alderman counts six horse-shoes lying upon the table, and sixty-one hob-nails handed in a tray; and the numbers are declared twice. The sticks are thin peeled twigs tied in a bundle at each end with red tape; the horse-shoes are of large size, and very old; the hob-nails are supplied fresh every year. By the first ceremony the alderman does suit and service for the tenants of a manor in Shropshire, the chopping of sticks betokening the custom of the tenants supplying their lord with fuel. The counting of the horse-shoes and nails is another suit and service of the owners of a forge in St. Clement Danes, Strand, which formerly belonged to the city, but no longer exists. Sheriff Hoare, in his MS. journal of his shrievalty, 1740-41, says, "where the tenements and lands are situated no one knows, nor doth the city receive any rents or profits thereby." In the Town Hall or Guildhall of London, some very strange relics are preserved, but none can be more strange than the yellow faded parchment shown me on which was written the humble petition of that notorious rascal and thief-taker, Jonathan Wild, who had first trained Jack Sheppard to thievery, after which he entrapped and hung him. Well, this very virtuous old gentleman had the audacity to send a petition to the Court of Aldermen in the year 1724, praying for the freedom of the City in view of the benefit he had conferred on it by the apprehension of so many thieves who had returned from transportation. One day while paying a visit to a celebrated surgeon, whose residence is at Windsor, I was invited to look into his closets, in which were stored a number of curiosities. Suddenly a door in a recess of the chamber flew open, and out popped a skeleton on wires, with a ghastly, grinning jaw, and its ribs all open like the timbers of a wrecked ship.