of his paper. At the end he has stitched in a
few supplementary leaves, of an equal number
of different kinds of paper, made from nettle
fibre, hop fibre, moss, reeds, weeds of three
different species, couch-grass, hazel-wood,
prick-wood, marsh-mallow, inner bark of oak,
inner bark of poplar, and osier. We have
tried very hard to like some of these, as
examples of ingenuity applied to a useful
purpose; but all in vain: a ragged regiment they
certainly are—reed-paper and marsh-mallow
paper being the best, nettle-paper and moss-
paper the worst.

It is, however, only the straw-paper which
immediately concerns us here; and we notice it
chiefly because another attempt is now being
made to bring this commodity into the
market. It is gradually finding its way into the
shops of some of the London stationers.
Whether good or bad, cheap or dear, each
user must decide for himself; but as this
paper is not yet popularly known, we must
say a little concerning its personal appearance
—not that external beauty is always a test of
internal merit: but that writing paper certainly
is expected to present a tolerably comely face.
We are now writing on a sheet of straw-paper.
Its size is larger than that of letter-paper,
being equal to that which is satirically called
foolscap. The surface is slightly rough, yet
rendered glossy by the silicified straw which
constitutes the chief material of its substance.
One good character we must not hesitate to
give it: it receives the ink very readily, and
is pleasant to write upon. The paper in question
has cost fourpence per quire, retail. A
fine, or elegant, or delicate paper it certainly
is not; yet it would be pleasant to hear that
the paper could be usefully applied; that it
can be sold at a cheap rate—cheap, and yet
leave an adequate profit—pleasant for this,
if for no other reason, that it is an Irish
manufacture, one in which Ireland is trying
to do a little for itself. There was at the
Dublin Exhibition a roll of this paper long
enough (more or less) to wrap round the world.
We pass on to straws of another kind.

Straws being tubular and cylindrical do not
seem to be very well adapted for purposes of
fine art or artistic design; yet ingenuity has
contrived a mode of applying them to some
such a purpose—not high art, certainly, but
decorative and ornate. The French monks
in the last century were wont to employ
portions of their time in making pictures and
ornamental designs of straw; perhaps our
ladies (we are not particularly interested
in the works of monks in these days)
might occasionally vary their crochet and
Berlin work by some such ornamental labours
in straw. The straws were selected large,
long, thin, and white; they were deprived
of all knots, solid stem, and enveloping
membrane; they were bleached by sulphuring;
they were dyed or stained in various
colours, a few only being kept white; they
were split open, by one rent from end to end;
they were spread out into flat ribbons, half an
inch or so in width; they were pasted side by
side on sheets of paper, with edges nicely
joining; and thus were at length produced
sheets of straw, beautifully smooth, equable,
hard, and glossy. Scrupulous care was taken
that all the straws in any one sheet should
be exactly alike in tint. The monk,
having thus provided himself with sheets of
white, blue, red, green, and other coloured
straw, proceeded with his labours. The
sheets having been well pressed after the
pasting, he was enabled to work upon them
without disturbing their bond of union. Some
of the pictures were a kind of mosaic. The
straw sheets were cut up into narrow strips;
and these, varying in width and in colour,
were pasted on paper; this paper, when dry,
was again cut up into strips, which were again
united in some new order of juxtaposition.
Another variety more nearly resembled
inlaying, or marquetry, or buhl-work. Several
sheets of straw, of various colours, were laid
one upon another; a paper pattern was laid
on them, and sharp cutting tools severed all
the sheets along the lines of the design. The
little fragments thus produced were picked up
one by one, and formed into devices by being
pasted on paper; the blue, the green, the
red, the white, and so forth, being dispersed
and mingled according to the taste of the
artist. A higher class of the art was that
in which embossment was introduced.

Before the days of British Havannahs and
ten-a-shilling Cubas, the rising generation
in the streets were accustomed to smoke cheap
cigars with straws inserted at one end; this
compromise between the pipe and the cigar
had its little day of prosperity, but it has now
died out. The fairer portion of creation can
point to a use of straws which transcends all
others. The straw bonnet is a notable
product; notable for its ingenuity, its durability,
its cheapness, and the infinite variety of which
it is susceptible. There are certain of our
midland counties which would look gloomy
enough but for the trade which their straw-
work brings to them; and those (and they
are many) who still wish that cottage industry
may not be wholly swamped by large
manufactories, look with a kindly eye on our straw-
plaiters and their labours.

The real genuine Dunstable bonnet or hat
is very old. Gay does not tell us whether
his Peggy, who was to wear a

"Neat straw hat, so trimly lined with green,"

knew or cared about the district which was
to produce it; but we would wager that
Peggy's straw hat came from Dunstable;
and that it was a " whole straw."

This question of whole straw and split straw
is one of no small importance among straw-
workers. The real Dunstable bonnet is (or
was) made of whole wheat straws, plaited in
long narrow strips; these strips being sewn
together. Unless the straws be very small