The following lines are extracted from a curious half-sheet print, entitled, "The Cries of London," to the tune of "Hark, the merry merry Christ Church bells," printed and sold at the printing office in Bow Church Yard, London. To this plate are prefixed two very curious old wood-blocks, one of a Galantie-show man, of the time of King William the Third, and the other of the time of James the First, representing a Salt-box man, and is perhaps one of the earliest specimens of that character. The lines alluded to are: "Here's fine rosemary, sage, and thyme! Come buy my ground ivy. Here's fetherfew, gilliflowers, and rue, Come buy my knotted marjorum, ho! Come buy my mint, my fine green mint, Here's fine lavender for your clothes, Here's parsley and winter-savory, And hearts-ease, which all do choose. Here's balm and hissop, and cinquefoil, All fine herbs, it is well known. Let none despise the merry merry Cries Of famous London Town! Here's pennyroyal and marygolds! Come buy my nettle-tops. Here's water-cresses and scurvy-grass! Come buy my sage of virtue ho! Come buy my wormwood and mugwort, Here's all fine herbs of every sort. Here's southernwood that's very good, Dandelion and houseleek. Here's dragon's tongue and wood sorrel, With bear's foot and horehound. Let none despise the merry merry Cries Of famous London Town!" [Illustration: _"Washerwomen"_] WASHER-WOMEN, CHAR-WOMEN, AND STREET NURSES. PLATE XXVII. Perhaps there is not a class of people who work harder than those washer-women who go out to assist servants in what is called a heavy wash; they may be seen in the winter time, shivering at the doors, at three and four o'clock in the morning, and are seldom dismissed before ten at night, this hard treatment being endured for two shillings and sixpence a day. They may be divided into two classes, the industrious, who labour cheerfully to support their little ones, and, too often, an idle and cruel husband; and those that take snuff, drink gin, and propagate the scandal of the neighbourhood, seldom quitting the house of their employer without gaining the secrets of the family, which they acquire by pretending to tell the fortunes of every one in the house to the servants of the family, by the manner in which the grouts of the tea adhere to the sides of the tea-cup. Most of these people, who are generally round-shouldered and lop-sided, are so accustomed to chatter with the servants, that they acquire a habit of keeping their mouths open, either horizontally or perpendicularly; and it is evident from Hollar's etchings of Leonardo da Vinci's caricatures that the latter must have studied the grimaces of this class of people. Some of these old washer-women, when they happen to meet with a discreet and silent domestic, will speak to the cat or the dog, and even hold conversation with themselves rather than lose the privilege of utterance.