'is a very pleasing regale to the pedestrians of London in cold and gloomy evenings. This cheap luxury is only to be obtained in winter; and when that dreary season is succeeded by the long days of summer, a well-known retailer of hot-spiced gingerbread takes his stand, near the portico of the Pantheon, with a basket of Banbury cakes.'* I remember, when a boy, I have often heard the following cry with delight, #2 Plum cake or a bun, plum cake or a bun. Baker Walton was a tall, handsome man, neatly dressed, whose fine tenor voice resounded through the streets of Leicester, to the gratification of all school-boys. One hot summer Sunday afternoon, this baker fell asleep at Saint Mary's Church, and being a busy, stirring man, while dreaming of his morning round, broke out with stentorian lungs, in the midst of the sermon, with his usual cry of plumcake or a bun, with a force of voice that made the church ring again, which so convulsed the congregation with laughter as to put an end to the solemnities of the service. The musical composer may frequently derive a lecture upon the proper accent of words from the cries in the streets. It has been before observed, that musical sounds are heard at a greater distance * Modern London. than others more noisy. As such it is the object with him who cries to choose a word upon which he can pour out the whole force of his voice; but if, in the description of his wares, no such word occurs, he adds the common expletive, ho! for the purpose of being heard. In the following cry the accent ought to fall upon the word true, but, as this word locks up the mouth, the previous word, and, is resorted to as a bolder sound, by which the cry is rendered more audible; but from misplacing the accent the words are rendered completely nonsensical. Here's a right and true list of all the running horses. Another instance of this kind is the following, in which the contracted syllable nips, is turned into nopes, to augment the sound. In the next cry the singer may take a lesson upon the egregious fault of continuing the sound after the mouth is closed. A practice often chargeable upon well-educated persons who attempt to sing. About a hundred years back, it was not uncommon with composers to take the cries of the streets as subjects for catches and two-part songs. The following are some that must have passed under the notice of musical readers. One a pen-ny, two a pen- ny, hot cross buns. a pen-ny, two a penny, hot cross buns. New macke rel, new mackerel. Old chairs to mend, old chairs to mend Б Ad Lib. rush or cane bottom, old chairs to mend. Past twelve o' clock and a cloudy night. Tempo. Smoking hot, piping hot, hot mutton pies. Old # e: chairs to mend, old chairs to mend, rush or cane bottom old b chairs to mend. Here's ready money for your old rags. ( How things are altered! These itinerant dealers were such conspicuous characters in the time of Addison, that we find them often described in the Spectator. The Song of Colly Molly Puff, is mentioned in the 25th number, as one of the most noted of them; and so much were these cries admired, that Shuter, the most witty comic actor of his time, frequently entertained crowded audiences on his benefit nights, with an admirable imitation of them. CHAPTER XXIV. THE HORN. THIS instrument is not the 'joy-inspiring horn,' as some have described it,-on the contrary, its notes are sombre, soft, and melancholy. By the French it is termed the English 'Cor de chasse;' but this is an error. If we refer to the pictures representing |