Then, too, for breakfast, would be heard, either from male, or female, lips, the cry of “Water cresses!” which were sold in small bunches a penny each, or three for twopence. In those days, they were to be found growing wild in the ditches near London, and many a weary tramp of seven or eight miles, before breakfast, of a morning, did the sellers have, in order to get them fresh. There was generally a supply at Covent Garden Market—grown for sale; but these were considered inferior in flavour to the wild ones. [Illustration: “BUY A TRAP! A RAT TRAP! BUY MY TRAP!”] From breakfast time, the cries of the miscellaneous dealers in small wares became general, and hardly any can claim pre-eminence, unless it be on a Good Friday—when the old pagan crossed cakes were vended, and evidently as much relished by the young folks as now. “Baking, or boiling apples” were sold by women, a charcoal stove accompanying their barrow, so that their customers might have them hot, and luscious. Then, too, might be seen a man with band-boxes, carried on either end of a pole, which rested on his shoulder. From 6d. to 3s. was their price; whilst boxes of slight deal, with a lock and key, might be purchased from 3s. 6d. to 6s. 6d. These boxes were of home manufacture, and gave employment to many industrious families. Brickdust was carried about on donkey back, in small sacks, and retailed at the price of one penny per quart. A contemporary remarks, “As brickdust is scarcely used in London for any other purpose than that of knife cleaning, the criers are not numerous; but they are remarkable for their fondness, and their training, of bull dogs. This predilection they have in common with the lamplighters of the Metropolis.” The accompanying sketch of a Rat-trap Dealer is graphic and good; and it shows one glimpse of the past, in the old cobbler (?) at his _hutch_, or low open door. This, or a cellar, always went as an accompaniment to this branch of the shoe-making trade. To future antiquarians, it may be useful to know that, at the commencement of this century, our domestic animals had their “purveyors of food;” that cat’s, and dog’s meat, consisting of horse flesh, bullock’s livers, and tripe cuttings, were distributed by means of men, or preferably, women, all over London. The horse flesh, and bullock’s liver, was sold by weight at 2d. per lb.; the tripe, in bundles, at 1d. each. “Baskets” were hawked about—not as we know them (rarer and rarer, year by year) in the gipsy caravans, but slung around the sellers—of good handy size, and durable make. One article of domestic economy has all but died out—the Bellows—and _old_ specimens are almost worth their weight in silver; but the cry of “Bellows to mend!” was then heard commonly. The mender carried his tools in a bag on his back, and, like the chair-mender, plied his calling in front of his patron’s house, or at any convenient street corner.