The booksellers and publishers seem to have been the last, with the exception of the tavern-keepers, to give up the old signs. After the Great Fire, some of the ancient signs which were cut in stone, and which had escaped the conflagration, were got out of the ruins, and afterwards placed in the front of the plain, yet solid, brick buildings which were erected after that event. Some of these--the "Chained Bear," the "Collared Swan," the "Moon and Seven Stars," and "Sun," in Cheapside, and some others which we now engrave--are still preserved. The carved wooden sign of the "Man in the Moon," in Wych Street, Strand, is a rare example; and the "Horse-shoe and Magpie," in Fetter Lane, is one of the last of the suspended signs to be now found in the City. [Illustration: [++] Painted Signs of London Taverns.] Amongst the painted signs of London taverns worth notice, is one in Oxford-street (nearly opposite Rathbone-place), said to have been painted by Hogarth. The subject is "a man loaded with mischief." He has a stout woman on his shoulders, together with a monkey, magpie, etc. The male figure shown in this street picture seems to bear up pretty well under his burden. NARROW ESCAPE.--CALM RELIANCE ON PROVIDENCE. In the year 1552, Francis Pelusius, of sixty-three years old, digging a well forty foot deep in the hill of St. Sebastian, the earth above him fell in upon him to thirty-five foot depth; he was somewhat sensible before of what was coming, and opposed a plank, which by chance he had with him, against the ruins, himself lying under it; by this means he was protected from the huge weight of earth, and retained some room and breath to himself, by which he lived seven days and nights without food or sleep, without any pain or sorrow, being full of hope, which he placed in God only. Ever and anon he called for help, as being yet safe, but was heard by none, though he could hear the motion, noise and words of those that were above him, and could count the hours as the clock went. After the seventh day, he being all this while given for dead, they brought a bier for his corpse, and when a good part of the well was digged up, on a sudden they heard the voice of one crying from the bottom. At first they were afraid, as if it had been the voice of a subterranean spirit; the voice continuing, they had some hope of his life, and hastened to dig to him, till at last, after they had given him a glass of wine, they drew him up living and well, his strength so entire that to lift him out he would not suffer himself to be bound, nor would use any help of another. Yea, he was of so sound understanding, that, jesting, he drew out his purse and gave them money, saying _He had been with such good hosts, that for seven days it had not cost him a farthing_. CEILING OF WHITEHALL.