e streets
to regard the fashions. Here, I see, is a gentleman in one of the new
Ramillies wigs--a wig of white hair drawn back from the forehead and
puffed out full over the ears. At the back the wig is gathered into a
long queue, the plaited or twisted tail of a wig, and is ornamented at
the top and bottom of the queue with a black bow.

[Illustration: {Ramillies wig; Black Steenkirk; a hat for men}]

I notice that this gentleman is dressed in more easy fashion than
some. His coat is not buttoned, the flaps of his waistcoat are not
over big, his breeches are easy, his tie is loose. I know where this
gentleman has stepped from; he has come straight out of a sampler of
mine, by means of which piece of needlework I can get his story
without book. I know that he has a tremendous periwig at home covered
with scented powder; I know that he has an elegant suit with fullness
of the skirts, at his sides gathered up to a button of silver gilt;
there is plenty of lace on this coat, and deep bands of it on the
cuffs. He has also, I am certain, a cane with an amber head very
curiously clouded, and this cane he hangs on to his fifth button by a
blue silk ribbon. This cane is never used except to lift it up at a
coachman, hold it over the head of a drawer, or point out the
circumstances of a story. Also, he has a single eyeglass, or
perspective, which he will advance to his eye to gaze at a toast or an
orange wench.

There is another figure on the sampler--a lady in one of those wide
hoops; she has a fan in her hand. I know her as well as the gentleman,
and know that she can use her fan as becomes a prude or a coquette. I
know she takes her chocolate in bed at nine in the morning, at eleven
she drinks a dish of bohea, tries a new head at her twelve o'clock
toilette, and at two cheapens fans at the Change.

[Illustration: {A woman of the time of Anne}]

[Illustration: {A woman of the time of Anne}]

I have seen her at her mantua-makers; I have watched her embroider a
corner of her flower handkerchief, and give it up to sit before her
glass to determine a patch. She is a good coachwoman, and puts her
dainty laced shoe against the opposite seat to balance herself against
the many jolts; meanwhile she takes her mask off for a look at the
passing world. If only I could ride in the coach with her! If only I
could I should see the fruit wenches in sprigged petticoats and flat,
broad-brimmed hats; the ballad-sellers in tattered