Having dealt with “the butcher” and “the baker,” there is yet the “candlestick-maker” to be considered. Our “Chandlers” and “Candlers” explain themselves. Our “Turners” turned out all manner of wooden gear, and doubtless candlesticks were amongst them. There are plenty of “Bowlers” in the Directory, men who made bowls or dishes of wood. The twenty-four “Spooners” {126} set down in the same record, fashioned spoons. Forks being a modern invention, there are no “Forkers”; but “Cutler” abounds on every side in the metropolis, not to mention the “Cutlers’ Alms-houses,” and the “Cutlers’ Hall.” “Ironmonger” also is well represented. Those who manufactured crocks—that is, any glazed vessel of earthenware (whence our modern term “crockery”)—were called “Crockers,” or “Crokers.” There are over thirty Crockers in the Directory, and six Crokers. A hundred “Potters” figure in the same list. Some reader may inquire, “Have we any relics of the medical practitioner in the Directory? Was there any one who was professionally employed to see children through the measles, to extract an obnoxious tooth, to lay a plaister, to open a vein, to mix a potion, or to generally repair a debilitated system?” The London Directory replies unhesitatingly in the affirmative; and yet look out Doctor, or Surgeon, or Physician, and all are conspicuous by their absence: although, to do the last justice, he has bequeathed us four Physicks. The reason of this is simple. These are new terms. The old practitioner went generally by the name of “Leech.” There are forty-seven Leaches, one Leachman, and eleven Leeches in the Directory. Bleeding with leeches was evidently no unfamiliar spectacle in old days, especially when we recall that our forefathers were wont to be very energetic with the knife and fork—or spoon, I should say, for they had no forks. “Chemist,” too, is a new sobriquet,—therefore he is unrepresented; but there is one “Pothecary,” and Potticary is fairly common in other parts of England. As for the Barber, the surgeon and dentist of former times, no wonder there is a whole column of his descendants. His custom was to hang a basin at the end of his pole, with a string of teeth, the longer the better, to show what a roaring trade he drove,—for he could not advertise his business in the newspaper as people do in these remarkable days. In the window were ranged cups or goblets with a few leeches in. These “Did well his threefold trade explain, Who shaved, drew teeth, and breathed a vein.”