Perhaps, however, the books he used are the most interesting. These consist of a couple of standard works on chemistry, which he had freely interpolated with marginal notes and pencil marks against anything calculated to assist him in the pursuit of his profession. But his "private" reference book is the good thing in his pack of literature. It is a book similar to that which any schoolboy would use to do his homework in. It contains the addresses of English taverns in Paris, servants' registry offices, sewing machine dealers, shops where furniture may be obtained on hire, house agents, money-lenders, addresses of statesmen, etc. The newspaper cuttings in this volume are of a varied character, and include an advertisement of "A Young Gentleman who has a Grand Piano for Sale," "A Good Cure for a Cold," "Cure for Chilblains," "Furniture Polish," and prescriptions for removing surplus hair from the back of the neck, the right treatment of headaches, the proper ingredients for making a highly satisfactory mustard plaster, and a certain cure for sluggish livers! [Illustration: FIG. 10.--CLAMPS AND MOULD CLOSED--WITH CLAMP.] "The Party from Fulham" adopted--probably in his early career--an ingenious means of becoming possessed of useful information--a method which it would be well if those papers who reply indiscriminately to questions sent them would make note of. He would write to periodicals asking such simple conundrums as, "Will you kindly tell me the simplest way to make a battery?" or, "Would you kindly say in an early issue the simplest way to make solder for silver?" He often got replies, as is proved from a newspaper cutting, giving an answer to the last query--an answer we refrain from publishing, seeing that it gives a very efficacious recipe for the first step towards "making money." Further, it is presumed that "the Party from Fulham" either kept a shop, was a receiver of stolen property, or else attended sales and purchased articles in the hopes of pawning them and securing a profit--the latter a distinct business in the East-end of London. The book contains an entry against the name of a well-known pawnbroker, of "a wedding-ring, 4s.," followed by the bitterly suggestive words, "ticket lost"! And there are entries relating to everything between a violin and a paillasse, a brass fender and a blue beaver coat. There is actually a ticket of admission to a cookery lecture, which all goes to prove that "the Party from Fulham" was a most prolific personage. [Illustration: FIG. 11.--BATTERY RACKS.]