It was little short of marvellous how those about him bore the stinging castigation he administered, and the hard terms he applied to them. They were poor purblind fools not to see the advantages of religion; they were robbers, insomuch as they filched the day of rest, and turned it to their own vile purposes; they were cowards, for they were afraid of offending the devil. I don't say that as a rule the hundred or so gathered about were deeply impressed, or that any listener's pipe was put out or his appetite spoiled for the nuts or winkles on which he happened to be engaged when he strolled up. But this much may be said, and it is not a little-not one of that rough and uncouth assembly opened his mouth in sneering or in wrath; not one raised his hand to ward off or resent the severe pummelling of which he was metaphorically the victim. From this point of view the preacher of the street may lay claim to having achieved a victory, and he has my very best wishes.

The instance above recited was not the only one furnished by Hare Street, showing the courageous determination of a worthy, and, I am afraid, ill-requited few, to win the Sabbath breaker from his wicked ways. About midway in this street of evil repute there is what was at one time a shabby little music hall,, attached to an uninviting-looking low public house, known as the "Apollo." For some reason or other the "Apollo" has lost its licence; but, so far as outward appearance goes, it is still a public house. There are legends of "cordial gin" and "fine vatted rum" still to be read, and the publican's name still adorns the portal; the doors, battered and greased by drunken shoulders, were half open, and only for one unusual feature the place might still have been an ordinary public house of the slums, doing a bit of sly business on a Sunday morning. The unusual feature was a written placard on the door-post, announcing that Mrs. Someone of Liverpool would preach in the hall that morning; and even as I read, there came from the rear of the premises the sweet sound of voices uniting in a hymn.

I went in, past the bar that was ruinous, past the parlour in which Hare Street heroes were wont to roar their praises of brown beer, but in which now the hats and cloaks and umbrellas of the pious congregation found temporary

harbourage. The hall itself the music hall-presented a striking spectacle. It was never adapted for a daylight congregation, and, broad, sunny noon as it was, three or four of the flashy little chandeliers over-head were lit; the sickly unreasonable gas illuminating in ghostly fashion the cobwebs and grime in which the disused glass pendants were enveloped. There were the narrow seats and the ledges in front, just as they were last ringed and smeared by the ginand-water and half-and-half measures, but on them prayer and hymn books now rested.

On the stage, still looked down on by two Shoreditch cupids, was a table-the very table, probably, which that excellent delineator of Negro eccentricities, "Pumpkin Squash," in the rattling old times when the "Apollo" was the "Apollo," used to whack with his umbrella during his farfamed stump-oration. At this very table, now decently covered with baize, and supported by three or four of her male admirers, was the highly respectable lady alluded to in the placard, holding forth with no small degree of eloquence, and with her benevolent heart, earnest in the hard work before her.

I am sorry to tell, however, that the congregation was not numerous. The heathen of the Ditch is shy of any kind of enclosure. If you wish to tackle him you must tackle him just where you may happen to find him, and take your chance of his pausing to listen. You have not that claim on his attention which you would have if you invited him into your place of worship, and he accepted the invitation. You are both, in his opinion, on an equally free and independent footing; and he would no more think of questioning your right to preach at the street corner against vice, than he would tolerate your interference with his daily occupation, which is the bawling of "rabbit-skins;" which undoubtedly is a condition of things much more favourable to the brave designs of the preacher than if the said heathen were as blindly brutal as his spiritual aggressor is blunt and plainspoken.

By the time I quitted the "Apollo" it was one o'clock, and the public houses were open, which of course accounted for the streets being comparatively clear.

THE HUMAN HAIR MARKET.

It was recently my privilege to inspect and, for just as long as I chose, linger over the enormous stock of the most extensive dealer in human hair in Europe. The firm in question has several warehouses, but this was the London warehouse, with cranes for lowering and hauling up heavy bales. I, however, was not fortunate in the selection of a time for my visit. The stock was running low, and a trifling consignment of seventeen hundredweight or so was at that moment lying at the docks tili a waggon could be sent to fetch it away. But what remained of the impoverished stock was enough to inspire me with wonder and awe. a sort of bench, four or five feet in width, and extending the whole length of the warehouse front, what looked like horse tails were heaped in scores and hundreds; in the rear of this was another bench, similarly laden; all round about were racks thickly festooned; under the great bench were bales, some of them large almost as trusses of hay; and there was the warehouseman, with his sturdy bare arms, hauling out big handfuls of the tightly-packed tails, and roughly sorting them.

On

I should imagine that a greater number of pretty lines have been written on woman's hair than on anything else in creation. Lovers have lost their wits in its enchanting tangle; poets have soared on a single lovely tress higher than Mother Shipton ever mounted on her celebrated broom; but I question if the most delirious of the whole hair-brained fraternity could have grown rapturous, or even commonly sentimental, over one of these bales when, with his knife, the warehouseman ripped open the canvas and revealed what was within. Splendid specimens, every one of the tails. Eighteen or twenty-inch lengths, soft and silky in texture, and many of rare shades of colour

chestnut, auburn, flaxen, golden-and each exactly as when the cruel shears had cropped it from the female head.

It was this last-mentioned terribly palpable fact that spoilt the romance. Phew! One hears of the objectionable matters from which certain exquisite perfumes are distilled; but they must be roses and lilies compared with this raw material out of which are manufactured the magnificent head-adornments that ladies delight in. As to its appearance, I will merely remark that it gave one the "creeps" to contemplate it. Misinterpreting my emotion, the goodnatured gentleman who accompanied me hastened to explain that the fair maidens of Southern Germany, to whom these crowning glories had originally belonged, did not part with the whole of their crop.

"More often than not," said he, "they will agree to sell but a piece out of the centre of their back hair, and under any circumstance they will not permit the merchant's scissors to touch their front hair."

Time was when I should have derived consolation from this bit of information; but now I could not avoid the reflection what a pity it was, for sanitary reasons, that they did not have their heads shaved outright.

"Is it all in this condition when you first receive it? I ventured to inquire.

"As nearly as possible," was my friend's bland rejoiner. The lot under inspection, a little parcel of a couple of hundredweight, came from Germany. The human hair business has been brisker in that part of Europe than anywhere during the past few years, on account of its yielding a greater abundance of the fashionable colour, which is yellow. Prices have gone up amongst the "growers" in consequence. The average value of a "head" is about three shillings. As well as I can understand the matter, however, the traffic in human hair is based on pretty much the same business principles as those which find favour with the "old clo’” fraternity with which we are familiar. With them articles of china and glass are exchanged for an old coat or a brace of cast-off shoes-a pair of Brummagem earrings, a yard or two of flowered chintz, or a pair of shoe-buckles are offered for a cut off the back hair of the German peasant maiden.

The hair buyers-or "cutters," as they are technically called -are pedlars as well, and never pay for a shearing with ready cash when they can barter. These pedlars are not the exporters, however; they are in the employ of the wholesale dealer, who entrusts them with the money and goods, and allows them a commission on the harvest. I don't think that I was sorry to hear about the Brummagem earrings and the barter system. Since civilization demands the hair off the heads of women, it is consolatory to find that they think no more of parting with it than with a few yards of lace they have been weaving. It comes from Italy as well as from Germany, and recently from Roumania. I was informed that an attempt has been made to open a trade with Japan; but, though the Japanese damsels are not unwilling, at a price, to be shorn for the adornment of the white barbarian. the crop, although of admirable length, is found to be too much like horsehair for the delicate purposes to which human hair is applied.

Brown hair, black hair, hair of the colour of rich Cheshire cheese, hair of every colour under the sun, was tumbled in heaps on the counter before me, including grey_hair-not much of it, as much, perhaps, as might be stuffed into a hatbox; but there it was, the hair of grandmothers. Seeing it to be set aside from the rest, my impression was that it got there through one of those tricks of trade that every branch of commerce is subject to. That lot was stuffed into the middle of a bale, I thought, by some dishonest packer who, while aware how valueless it was, knew it would help to make weight.

"You don't care much about that article, I imagine," I remarked to my guide.

"What! that grey hair-not care for it!" he returned, with a pitying smile at my ignorance. "I wish that we could get a great deal more of it, sir; it is one of the most valuable articles that comes into our hands. Elderly ladies will have chignons as well as the young ones; and a chignon must match the hair, whatever may be its colour." It was unreasonable, perhaps; but, for the first time in my life, as I gazed on the venerable pile, I felt ashamed of grey hair. It seemed so monstrously out of place.