Alighting from a train at any wayside station in the South or West of England, if one walks along the main road, and avoids the villages, one may go for miles without meeting a soul. The Londoner, whose nerves have been unstrung and jarred by incessant contact and friction with his fellow-citizens for months at a stretch, has only to journey a few miles, say to Chertsey, Ewell, Epsom, or anywhere in Herts or Surrey, and in a few moments he finds a peaceful solitude not likely to be disturbed save by passing cycles or motor-cars. But in the Midlands, and for that matter anywhere in the North, it is different. There the bulk of Britain’s population is concentrated. One cannot go for a stroll without coming across individuals of all ages, who, although accustomed to see many people, stare at every stranger after a fashion unknown in the home counties, as if he or she were a wanderer from another planet. And should it be a child whose curiosity is thus aroused, he will probably follow the stranger for miles, gaping at nothing! In the past, the manners and customs of the Black Country folk were decidedly rough, based on the principle of a blow first and an explanation afterwards. But this little trait has, under the modern influence of inter-communication with the outer world, been considerably modified. They work hard and “play” hard, and are given to week-end excursions and an annual “outing” to Blackpool, Southport, Lytham, or other favourite seaside resort. They earn good wages and, if steady, quickly save money and live in comfortable houses of their own; but if otherwise, their “good pay” only accelerates the wretchedness of their surroundings. Lavish with their cash, they are hospitable in the extreme; great consumers of plain beef and mutton, sweets and kickshaws they relegate to the women and children; but they no longer--as was affirmed of puddlers and miners during the boom of many years ago--drink champagne and feed their bull-pups on loin-chops and rump-steak. They are keen on dogs, pigeons, and singing-birds. Dog-fights are a thing of the past, of course, but it is whispered that suspiciously high-bred gamecocks are still to be seen sub-rosa throughout the district! Altogether they are not half as black as they are painted; neither is the aspect of their country, though except in the neighbourhood of Birmingham it can hardly be called picturesque. They represent the sturdy old Midland English, independent and brusque, whose confidence once gained will not be betrayed. Here, then, in the country called “Black,” is a concentration of industrial centres, each possessing great natural wealth of coal and iron, and turning out in enormous quantities cutlery, anvils, bolts, buttons, ironwork of all kinds, guns, hinges, locomotives, nails, pens, pins, rails, rifles, screws, tin and zinc-lined goods, tools, tubes, etc.