kerbockers closed at the knee.
The good-wife of the farmer knots a loose cloth over her head, and
pops a broad-brimmed man's hat over it. She has the sleeves of her
dress made with turned-back cuffs, like her husband's, ties her shoes
with strings, laces her dress in front, so as to show a
bright-coloured under-bodice, and, as like as not, wears a green
pinner (an apron with bib, which was pinned on to the dress), and
altogether brings herself up to date.

[Illustration: {A woman of the time of James II.}]

One might see the farmer's wife riding to market with her eggs in a
basket covered with a corner of her red cloak, and many a red cloak
would she meet on the way to clep with on the times and the fashions.
The green apron was a mark of a Quaker in America, and the Society of
Friends was not by any means sad in colour until late in their
history.

Most notable was the neckcloth in this unhappy reign, which went by
the name of Judge Jeffreys' hempen cravat.

WILLIAM AND MARY

Reigned thirteen years: 1689-1702.

The King born in 1650; the Queen born in 1662; married
in 1677.

THE MEN

[Illustration: {A man of the time of William and Mary}]

First and foremost, the wig. Periwig, peruke, campaign wig with
pole-locks or dildos, all the rage, all the thought of the first
gentlemen. Their heads loaded with curl upon curl, long ringlets
hanging over their shoulders and down their backs, some brown, some
covered with meal until their coats looked like millers' coats;
scented hair, almost hiding the loose-tied cravat, 'most agreeably
discoloured with snuff from top to bottom.'

[Illustration: {A man of the time of William and Mary; a type of
cuff}]

My fine gentleman walking the street with the square-cut coat open to
show a fine waistcoat, his stick hanging by a ribbon on to his wrist
and rattling on the pavement as it dragged along, his hat carefully
perched on his wig, the crown made wide and high to hold the two wings
of curls, which formed a negligent central parting. His pockets, low
down in his coat, show a lace kerchief half dropping from one of them.
One hand is in a small muff, the other holds a fine silver-gilt box
filled with Vigo snuff. He wears high-heeled shoes, red heeled,
perhaps, and the tongue of his shoe sticks up well above the instep.
Probably he is on his way to the theatre, where he will comb his
periwig in public, and puff away the clouds of powder that co