But how are the 14,000 men, women, and children, who now constitute the population of modern Crewe, lodged and otherwise provided for? When, in 1849, they numbered 8,000 they were lodged in 514 houses, a number which we expect the Registrar-General would have put his finger upon and objected to—nearly 16 persons in each small habitation. Now, the number of houses is about 2,000, of which 720 belong to the company. They are built along commodious and pleasant streets; well lighted with gas; well Macadamised or paved. As signs of civilisation, there are gay and lively shops, brightly lighted up on winter evenings, replete with modern fashions for the ladies, and, for the rougher sex, there is everything at hand for everyday work, and for Sundays. All the usual signs of civilisation prevail within town boundaries. There are dancing masters and dancing mistresses, music masters, and music teachers of the gentler sex, barrel organs and German bands, occasional theatrical performances by the _artistes_ of the “circuit,” balls, dances, flirtations, marriages and their usual consequences, and, to wind up, there are four lawyers, seven policemen, a weekly newspaper called the _Crewe and Nantwich Guardian_, and two undertakers! The gentleman who has so kindly furnished us with most of the information herein given respecting modern Crewe, wishes it specially to be noted, that “the undertakers do not make this their sole business, but are also drapers,” a request that we have great pleasure in complying with, adding thereto a hope on our own parts, that the worthy drapers may long find it more profitable to wait upon Crewe living, than to follow it, when dead, to its last resting-place. In a work published at the commencement of this year by Messrs. Tinsley Brothers, entitled “Some Habits and Customs of the Working Classes, written by a Journeyman Engineer,” the writer alleges that working men cannot write letters for the reason that “they were very good scholars once, only they have forgotten all their education,”—hence it is, continues the author, “they usually regard letter writing as a soul-depressing business fit only for the gloom and involuntary confinement of a wet Sunday.” But this is not the case at Crewe, for we find, by a postal return presented to Parliament in August last, that the Post Office distributes 6,350 letters every week. Of course this number is exclusive of the legion beyond number that the locomotive department receives and sends out “on company’s service.” The service correspondence of the traffic and of the stores departments must also be very considerable. All these letters are conveyed solely by the company’s trains.