Oswestry is a market-town, and the chief market is held every Wednesday. It is abundantly supplied from the surrounding highly-cultivated agricultural country, and the articles brought for sale are generally of the very best quality. Welsh mutton, poultry, and fruits of rare delicacy are among the choice morsels which the exquisite _gourmand_ may ever find, in their due season, in the Oswestry market. Apples and pears, produced in the vicinity, and offered for sale here, might successfully vie with the best of those fruits grown in Guernsey, Jersey, or the sunny orchards of Kent. There is a small market held on the Saturday, principally for the accommodation of the numerous labouring classes employed in the neighbourhood. Twelve FAIRS are also held in the town, all of which are conducted with great spirit, and attended by a large class of buyers and sellers. A Fair is held on the first Wednesday in every month. Public Establishments and Institutions. Imagine a party of strangers visiting Oswestry, having heard much spoken in favour of its neatness and beauty, and the picturesque scenery by which it is surrounded; and stretch forth your imagination, gentle reader, by supposing that this party have been comfortably supplied with viands, and perchance “the cup which cheers, but not inebriates,” by mine host of the Cross Keys or the Wynnstay Arms. Having discussed these good things, they may perhaps hasten out in quest of “the lions” of the place. “Let us away to the Museum!” probably exclaims one of the ladies of the party who is ever in search of the _utile_ as well as the _dulce_. “This is a charming spot,” she perhaps adds, “for mineralogical and geological curiosities. The country, we are told, abounds in productive lead, copper, and coal mines. We shall surely collect much useful information in this practical and exploratory district, and return home wiser than when we came.” “Bravissimo!” may be the cry and echo of most of the party, “Miss Aimwell is ever zealous in good works, and to-day she is bent upon providing for us no common store of rational pleasure and information. Let us hasten to the Museum, therefore, at once.” The party, we suppose—for it is merely a fancy sketch—hie away towards the imaginary Museum, full of glee, anticipating the pleasure of exchanging compliments with the Curator, and one Director at least, and of inspecting a carefully-selected collection of natural curiosities, comprising, of course, attractive productions in the mineral world; specimens in ornithology; some of the many wonders and “gems of purest ray serene,” snatched from the deep caverns of the ocean; rare marbles and pebbles chiselled out of rocks and caves, mountains and dells; botanical rarities, and floral, horticultural, native and exotic products; with gatherings from the realms of art, science, fancy, and literature. Do the imaginary party discover the Museum, or a Public