We are enabled to present our readers with a graphic picture of a Lord Mayor's Show, no doubt soon after the close of Charles II.'s reign, from Ned Ward's _London Spy_. We have never before seen it quoted, nor do we ever remember meeting with so truthful a description of an old London mob, in the works of any other author, as is here given by one whose work was published more than a century and a half ago. "When the morning came that my Lord Mayor and his attendants were to take their amphibious journey to Westminster Hall, where his lordship, according to the custom of his ancestors, was by a kiss of the calves'-leather (book) to make a fair promise to his majesty, I equipped myself in order to bear with little damage the hustles and affronts of the unmannerly nobility, of whose wild pastimes and unlucky attacks I had no little apprehension. When I had thus carefully sheltered myself under my ancient drabberries, I ventured to move towards Cheapside, where I thought the triumphs would be most visible, and the rabble most rude, looking upon the mad frolics and whimsies of the latter to be altogether as diverting (providing a man takes care of the danger) as the solemn grandeur and gravity of the former. "When I came to the end of Blow-bladder-street (this street opened into Cheapside out of Newgate-street), I saw such a crowd before my eyes, that I could scarcely forbear thinking the very stones of the street, by the harmony of their drums and trumpets, were metamorphosed into men, women, and children. The balconies were hung with old tapestry, and Turkey-worked table-cloths for the cleanly leaning of the ladies, with whom they were chiefly filled, (and) which the mob soon pelted into so dirty a condition with their kennel-ammunition, that some of them looked as filthy as the cover-cloth of a led-horse that had travelled from Margate to London in the midst of winter; the ladies at every volley quitting their posts, and retreating into dining-rooms, as safer garrisons to defend them from the assaults of their mischievous enemies; some fretting at their daubed scarfs * * * others wiping their new commodes, which they had bought on purpose to honour his lordship. * * * The windows of each house from top to bottom were stuffed with heads; * * * while such a tide of mob overflowed the place we stood in, that the women cried out for room, the children for breath, and every man, whether citizen or foreigner, strove very hard for his freedom. * * * *