"What for?" demanded the woman, definite about the change he wanted out of shrewdly. "Eight and three-quarters." "Eight and three-quarters! his sovereigns and half-sovereigns; and "It's five and eleven," he would insist, women Perhaps the women had, when the gold The tone of this repetition gave promise of a brisk battle to come, had not a sudden interruption put a stop to all further haggling and dealing. Right down upon the whole, across the market-place swiftly, there had swept a cloud; the cloud had was dropgrown darker instantaneouslyping heavily down the next instant upon those who bid, and those who took, and The buyer was given to self-criticism those who turned away, before they could scarcely be certain they had felt the first too when the women handed his purchases spot. The effect was striking. Where in, and when he saw them by the light of there had been a crowd of rustic plaiters, the fact that he was going to pay. - nothing; "Did I give you seven for this rough alert of speech, there was now — and the narrow streets that fed the mar-piece?" he cried; and, "Ye don't call ker-place were being choked with woman this clear, do you? Why, ye've run all after woman, as each one fled for shelter, the spots in!" And, again, "If there guarding her plait-links, as best she could, comes a wet week, we shall lose money by That Market was over, all of these!" And, "I gave a good price from the ruinous wet. irrecoverably. Besides, there was the for that piece, and a very good one! other work to do of paying, under a roof- I will say !" top always; and surely the elements themselves had given the time of it, and it would be folly to be disputing. Wisdom would be in going whither the women were going, when the play would be brought to an end. It was simply to the "Sun," or the "Swan," or the "Star;" where one of these erected its cross-beamed front above the footway, and had a wide, straight gap in it to let the wayfarers into its roughstoned yard. Passing in, this "Sun," or "Swan," or "Star," gave glimpses of glass, and pewter, and bright snugness, as doors were knowingly placed~ajar; allowed folks to find themselves amongst carts and horses, pig-troughs, pumps, and clucking hens; with the way well indicated, by a passing line of plaiters, where, farther, it was necessary to go. A little room was the goal, away from all sign and symbol of the inn-traffic generally- a room, roughness itself, with sacking in one corner, with some unused tressels at the side; but, for the rest, the buyer's own, and given over to him, temporarily, for a counting-house. And there the buyer stood himself on one side of the tressel-counter, a crowd of women on the other with his cash-box open, ready to begin. "Ticket?" was his demand constantly, and, "How much money?" for he made the plaiters do their own multiplication. None were very sharp at it, and there always seemed a tangle in the talk when it came to calculating. The buyer knew it. Experience had taught him to be very In reply to all of which the women did battle, just as they had done before. "Yer price is baad," they declared. "Sha'ant see my money again for my "It's all one ghell's work, and "Sha'ant do no more straaws." as good as good." "I ain't a-going round work for any one." to sit and work haard, me and my ghells too, for nothing." "I can staand and lose one week, thank God; I ain't so baadly off as that." "Sha'ant sink threepence to please anybody: it's worth sixteen or it's worth nothing, and I won't let it go for thirteen." And, "That 'un! I couldn't plaait that 'un if it were ever so! Though this woman says she'd sooner plaait 'em than split 'em, and they may make it up as it is." Poor women, it is no wonder they hung fire at elevenpence instead of a shilling, and rattled out voluble remonstrances at the suggestion of sixpences and sevenpences! To plait a score of yards of (medium) plait, four hours would be consumed; a woman could only plait forty yards a day, about twelve score of yards a week. If, then, she had sevenpence a score, and had given a penny for her "straaws," yielding her a profit of sixpence, at the week's end, with every hour used up for working, she would only have earned half-a-dozen shillings. Do not let it be supposed, either, that plaiting is the only operation of plaiting; and that when nimble fingers have done twenty yards of pretty interlacing and interweaving, the twenty yards of plait are done. There are nine operations to add Plait As it is necessary now to put in a few notes about plaiting proper, it shall be said that men plait occasionally; women make a staple occupation of it; boys and girls, both, learn how to do it. The first lesson in plaiting is called (locally)" twittle twattle," being to plait loosely in three, and designed only to bring acquaintance with the mere handling of straws; the second lesson is "hen's ladder," done with three straws, one of which is twisted round two; the third lesson is the perfect plaiting in seven, executed very slowly, of course, and so roughly that it is a long while before the plait is of any use. ing-schools were in existence before boardschools drove them off the field. The fees for these were three halfpence and twopence a week; the object of them was that the little scholars should be kept at work by supervision, whereas at home they would have cheated their mothers (employed at domestic work) and have slipped away. A school would sometimes consist of sixty or seventy workers; and to make these work at their fastest, the mistress would set them to race "strive." "Let's strive up Chalk-hill," she would cry; the top of Chalk-hili being attained by the first child who had finished a hundred "sets and runs;” a “set” being the working-in of seven new straws, a "run" the plaiting them as far as they will go. At the commencement of the or to it; not one of which can be omitted. | night, when it is too dark for nattier and These nine are, to sort, to cut off dead more delicate labor. ends, to split, to mill, to wet, to clip, to mill again, to bunch, and to steam. With out entering into a minute description of any, it will be well, shortly, to give an account of each; and to begin with the first, the sorting. This is to pick out the straws that have any discoloring on them, and to lay them aside for inferior plait. If brown marks are overlooked, then the brown marks are "run in," the plait will not do for the best work, and the price goes down. Cutting off dead ends is to get rid of the dull and unsightly patches that are on all the straws, if they have been taken from too near the root. To split, is to run a little machine through each straw, which narrows it into four, five, six, seven, or eight, available strips, according to how many little pins, or slitters, the machine has. These machines are little wooden tubes, about the size of a cedar pencil, with steel slitters at one end; they are sold in Hitchin market for twopence and threepiece apiece. To mill, is to pass these split straws (or the whole ones, for the coarse plait) through heavy weights to take out their stiffness. To wet, is to dip the straws into water, to make them work more easily. Indeed, some plaiters wet their straws constantly in the mouth, and others keep a crock of water by them for frequent dipping; but it is disagreeable to have too much splash and damp, therefore the regulation wetting usually suffices. To clip, is to cut off all the straw-ends stick-" strive," each scholar had to nip off four ing out after plaiting, that come from where an old straw is plaited out and a new straw "set in." To mill the second time, is the same as at first, except that, as it is absolutely the same operation as ironing or pressing, where plait has been plaited with a twisted edge, the milling must only be up to this edge, not upon it, or the characteristic would be flattened out of all use and prettiness. To bunch, is to pass the plait from elbow to wrist, from elbow to wrist, over, like on a card; to cut it at ten links; and to tie it to keep so, for sale. To steam, is to put these completed links under the action of brimstone, to reduce their color; and it is done by laying the straw-links at one end of a box, and a saucer-shaped piece of red-hot iron at the other, upon which is dropped some lumps of sulphur that hiss up into a boil speedily. A lid, or cloth, is popped over the box the instant the brimstone has been dropped in, and it is allowed to remain closed for a plaiting-mistress would impose upon a full hour; the operation generally taking child the task of five "sets and runs," or piace in the garden or the yard, and atten or fifteen, to be finished by a certain straw-ends to mark where she began, or to "show fair;" and to beguile the time, each "set and run" was called a mile, with some woful danger successfully avoided as every mile was passed. To the winner (the first plaiter in) there was the imaginary gift of an imaginary horse and cart, in which she could be driven back the imaginary one hundred miles if she were graciously inclined; all plaiters who had passed the seventy miles had no dangers to fear forever more; those too inert and slothful to have come up to this, were laggards, to be eaten up by lions. Over one and under two, Pull it tight and that'll do, was the ditty that gave further enlivenment to this imaginary journey, repeated ever and anon, as the fingers plied; and if everything had been of this pleasant sort, it would have been well. But the time; if the task were not finished, the child would get a "sting" from a "bat" (a sort of wooden battledore), or some strokes from a cane, or would be set up on a high stool to plait there, till the eyes grew dizzy, till the head swam, and there would be a sharp fall off; so it is good that plaiting-schools are no more, and it would be good if every evil from plaiting would disappear as thoroughly. This, though, cannot be. Coarse straws will always, more or less, take the skin off the plaiter's fingers as she plaits; dishonesty will always make necessary the measuring-man," to pick out a "link" here and there at market-time, to measure it, and to burn it publicly in the market-place if it is deficient, hoist up on a high pole. Perhaps, henceforth, if a plaiter should be met along the roads round about Hitchin, plaiting as she goes with her plait-ends away from her (not to her, as might be supposed), a few of these facts may be thought of pleasantly. From The Athenæum. SIXTY-NINE YEARS AT THE COURT OF PRUSSIA.* four years. But the countess's own experience of some sort of public, life was also immensely long. It is described in the title as covering sixty-nine years; but the countess could remember Mr. Carlyle's bear, Frederic William the First, who died in 1740, that is, seventy-four years before her own life ended. ́ The first incident in her public life is recorded in the Margravine of Baireuth's memoirs as follows: The young Pannewitz was as beautiful as an angel, but as resolute as she was fascinating; and when once the king met her on a staircase that led to the queen's apartments, where she could not avoid him, and ventured to try to kiss her, she defended herself against him with such a hearty box of the ears that those who stood at the bottom of the stairs could have no doubt of her good success. After this debut, the lady went through the whole of the long reign of Frederic the Great, survived his successor, Frederic William the Second, lived through the early and deceptively prosperous days of Frederic William the Third, witnessed the downfall of Jena and the peace of Tilsit, saw Prussia sink lower still, closed the eyes of Queen Louise, saw the Russian expedition pass through the country, takTHERE could scarcely be a more trivial that the fate of Prussia was involved in ing possession of it in a way that showed book than this, and it may be doubted that of Russia, saw the tide turn, saw the whether even the exceptional position of levée en masse of Prussia and the creathe Countess Voss in the very midst of a tion of the Landwehr, received the news society of historical importance gives any of Dennewitz, Katsbach, Leipzig, Crareal value to her meagre jottings. But the onne; and when she left the world, could faint titillation of pleasure which a reader feel that the second great trial of Prussia experiences when a well-known historical was over, her second great enemy — more character is introduced to him in the dress formidable than Maria Theresa - crushed, of everyday life is felt oftener in reading and a new period of prosperity comthis book than in reading almost any book menced. She saw, in fact, the whole rise of the kind; and there is something so of Prussia to the position of a great powsurprising in the length of time over which er, and during most of the time she was this insignificant diary extends, that the in the closest intercourse with the men book becomes noticeable; almost every who could have best explained to her all one will take it up with curiosity, even that was going on. Had she chosen to though the liveliest curiosity will soon be observe attentively all that passed before satiated by it, and therefore it is not sur-her, to reflect upon it, and write a careful prising that it should have been very history, her book might have been as inpromptly translated. teresting as Saint Simon's. To give a notion of the lapse of time which the book covers, it may be mentioned that the countess's father was wounded at Malplaquet, and that the countess herself outlived by a year the battle of Leipzig, though the interval be: tween those battles is one hundred and Sixty-Nine Years at the Court of Prussia. From the Recollections of Sophie Marie, Countess von Voss. Translated by Emily and Agues Stephenson. 2 vols. Bentley & Son. But the countess is the antipodes of Saint Simon. She observes nothing, and narrates nothing. If we were to call her reflections commonplace, we should convey too favorable an impression of them. Properly speaking, she makes no reflec tions, for we cannot call the mere exclamations, whether of joy or sorrow, with which she accompanies her items of news by so dignified a name. In like manner, she tells us nothing of the characters that are thrown in her way we learn sometimes | able to find two histories of the same that they are agreeable or otherwise, but rarely anything further. Not that there is any reason to think that the countess wanted the power of observation or thought, but it is evident that she had only the very humblest object in view in keeping a diary, that she aimed at nothing more than providing a slight assistance for her memory. It seems further that, when she had anything of great importance to record, she often abstained from doing so. There was one moment in her life when she was of real importance in Prussian history. This was in the last months of 1808, when the French army of occupation was on the point of leaving Prussia, and Napoleon was forcing a new treaty upon the king, by which he hoped to hold Prussia down as effectually as if his army were not withdrawn. A great outcry was raised about the conspiracies against the French power, which were supposed to be rife among the Prussian officials and military men. Davoust and Daru took the lead in the agitation, and the servile French party among the Prussians, which had its headquarters at Berlin, echoed all their charges. One of the absurd stories they circulated was that the Countess Voss had written a letter to Prince Wittgenstein, then at Hamburg, proposing to him to poison Napoleon at Bayonne. The prince was actually arrested on this charge. About the same time, we find the leading statesmen of Prussia complaining that it is impossible to keep important state secrets because of the countess Voss's teas, at which everything was repeated. These are not matters of the first importance, but they are, at least, more important than nine-tenths of the matters dealt with in this diary, and any information the countess might give about them would be of some interest to students of Prussian history, particularly as it would be certainly authentic. But we are disappointed; the diary contains not a syllable on these subjects, nor has the editor any light to throw upon them. If a reader is very anxious to realize to himself exactly how the royal family of Prussia lived in that distressful period after Jena which was passed at Memel, he should take this book and compare it with the diaries of Sir George Jackson (of which the last volumes are called "The Bath Archives"). He will find in the one book that the countess met Mr. Jackson, and in the other that Mr. Jackson met the countess. For all we know, he may be evening in the two books. We must add. however, that in all probability neither history will be worth reading, though the English diarist is in every case to be preferred. The diary before us at any rate can serve no better purpose than is served by a visitors' book at an inn. The utmost you can look for is to find what persons were to be met with at the Prussian court at a given time. In turning over so many names, however, something will occasionally strike the eye. For instance, in the later years of Frederic the Great, the countess often mentions a Humboldt among those at court. This we take to be the father of the illustrious brothers. We have been speaking of the staple of the book, than which nothing can be more unprofitable. There are, however, three passages in it which are more interesting. Of these the first is that part of the diary which refers to the last years of the Seven Years' War. As the editor says, there is something startling and "almost enigmatical" in the style of these pages, which show us "how, at the very time when the king, overwhelmed with losses and misfortunes of every kind, struggles all the more heroically against the enemy's superior force, people at the court of his wife, sisters, and sisters-in-law were trying to drive away the time with petty amusements, and scarcely troubled themselves seriously to know what territory of the miserable and exlrausted land was at the moment groaning under the heavy hand of the Russians, Austrians, or French!" Besides the curiousness of this, these pages give us a more distinct notion than perhaps it was possible to get before of one who certainly is among the most unimportant personages in history, but yet a queen, and the queen of a great king; we mean Elizabeth Christine, the neglected wife of Frederic the Great. Her impatience and dogmatism, her want of tact in conversation, are traits which we think are new:— The queen was present, too, and made some very angry remarks about the unfavorable accounts and reports that were circulated about her court. I do not know what she can mean but some silly gossip here in the place, which should not have been listened to, and still less noticed. But she would not leave off scolding from her the greatest attentions were loudest and declaiming that the people who received in mocking and ridiculing her; in short, I am sorry to say she said a number of things which put us all into perplexity, and were very little becoming in a queen. The other two interesting things in the book are the two parallel love-stories that between the heroine and Frederic's brother, Prince August Wilhelm, and that between her niece Julie and King Frederic William the Second. In the history of the Hohenzollern house, these two stories are really not unimportant, and the more so because they run parallel to each other. In both cases, the lady is pursued with the most ungovernable passion. In the first case, she makes her escape from the royal addresses by a marriage without affection; in the latter case she yields. But both the lovers, at the time of falling in love, bear the title of Prince of Prussia, and one is the father of the other. King Frederic William the Second is a person who, as soon as it becomes part of a proper English education to learn something about Continental, especially about Prussian history, will be recognized as having a great historical importance. His peculiar ungovernableness, his total want of the stern self-discipline which has made the greatness of his house, had great consequences in the world, for they produced that demoralization of the Prussian State and army which ended in Jena and the Peace of Tilsit. His character is the more worth studying because it was not without strong and remarkable qualities, so much so that Kant could describe him as a “brave, honest, humane, and — put here made, both on this persecution and on his other amours, we see how different was the Prussian Charles the Second from the English one. We see a man of passion rather than a man of pleasure, a sentimentalist rather than a cynic; that is, a man not wanting in the feelings so much as in the discipline of virtue. Just so much we seem to learn from this book, though, indeed, it would not be safe to treat as serious historic testimony a document so exceedingly light and so conventional in its tone as the diary of the Countess Voss. But the time will come when King Frederic William the Second of Prussia- the king who made the treaty of Reichenbach, the second and third partitions of Poland, the invasion of France, and the treaty of Basle will be a better-known historical character than he now is; and it will then be interesting to observe that the faults of his public career were of the same kind as those which were observed in his private life, that is, very great and scandalous faults, but not faults of will so much as of impulse, the irregularities of a warm temperament joined to a somewhat confused understanding. From The Pall Mall Gazette. CAN SOCIETY. ting aside certain peculiarities of temper- THE AMERICAN SUMMER AND AMERIament a thoroughly excellent prince." We seem to get some light upon his character from the way in which in this book it is set over against that of his unfortunate father. Ungovernableness is equally the characteristic of both father and son. The elder prince of Prussia, at the celebration of the marriage which he has forced our diarist into contracting, actually falls down in a fainting fit, and has to be carried out. The same unrestrained sensibility is shown in the circumstances of his death. In this volume is printed a letter from a Fräulein von Kleist, describing the persistency with which, when attacked by illness, he, broken-hearted by the harshness with which his brother treated him, refused to listen to medical advice or take remedies, until, in spite of all the care of those about him, he succeeded in rendering his illness fatal. The family likeness is plain in the notes which the diarist makes of the behavior of his son, Frederic's successor. He pursues Julie as his father had pursued our diarist, until she consents to a left-handed marriage, and, in the remarks PHILADELPHIA, August 30. ENGLISH visitors in Philadelphia this summer have experienced the feelings and have had the general appearance during the past month of those unfortunate Polar bears one sees now and then in a zoological garden. While enjoying the gentle pleasures of a spring and summer upon the Thames last year, I was constantly surprised by complaints of unusual heat, with the thermometer at a mild 75° or Soo. It seemed to me that the complainants hardly appreciated the climatic blessings of Providence in their own country, and that a visit to America in July and August would be an excellent experience for them. Some Englishmen have had this experience in the present season, and none who have, I think, will ever complain of the heat in England again. Even a residence in a warm southern latitude does not prepare a person for the discomforts of what is called a "heated term" in this country. There are no forewarnings of these terms; their coming is so uncertain that no efficient means in the way of appliances or build |