THE , in the way it is at present carried on, has not been known more than years in the streets. Before that, potatoes were sometimes roasted as chestnuts are now, but only on a small scale. The trade is more profitable than that in fruit, but continues for but months of the year.

The potatoes, for street-consumption, are bought of the greengrocers, at the rate of the cwt. They are usually a large-sized "fruit," running about or to the pound. The kind generally bought is what are called the "French Regent's." French pota- toes are greatly used now, as they are cheaper than the English. The potatoes are picked, and those of a large size, and with a rough skin, selected from the others, because they are the mealiest. A waxy potato shrivels in the baking. There are usually from to potatoes in the cwt.; these are cleaned by the huckster, and, when dried, taken in baskets, about a quarter cwt. at a time, to the baker's, to be cooked. They are baked in large tins, and require an hour and a half to do them well. The charge for baking is the cwt., the baker usually finding the tins. They are taken home from the bakehouse in a basket, with a yard and a half of green baize in which they are covered up, and so protected from the cold. The huckster then places them in his can, which consists of a tin with a half-lid; it stands on legs, and has a large handle to it, while an iron firepot is suspended immediately beneath the vessel which is used for holding the potatoes. Directly over the fire-pot is a boiler for hot water. This is concealed within the vessel, and serves to keep the potatoes always hot. Outside the vessel where the potatoes are kept is, at end, a small compartment for butter and salt, and at the other end another compartment for fresh charcoal. Above the boiler, and beside the lid, is a small pipe for carrying off the steam. These potato--cans are sometimes brightly polished, sometimes painted red, and occasionally brass-mounted. Some of the handsomest are all brass, and some are highly ornamented with brass-mountings. Great pride is taken in the cans. The baked-potato man usually devotes half an hour to polishing them up, and they are mostly kept as bright as silver. The handsomest potato-can is now in . It cost guineas, and is of brass mounted with German silver. There are lamps attached to it, with coloured glass, and of a style to accord with that of the machine; each lamp cost The expense of an ordinary can, tin and brass-mounted, is about They are mostly made by a tinman in the Ratcliffehighway. The usual places for these cans to stand are the principal thoroughfares and streetmarkets. It is considered by who has been many years at the business, that there are, taking those who have regular stands and those who are travelling with their cans on their arm, at least individuals engaged in the trade in London. There are at the bottom of , in , and in Tottenham-court-road (the places last named are said to be the best 'pitches' in all London), in , on , at King's-cross, at the Brill, Somers-town, in the Newcut, in Covent-garden (this is considered to be on market-days the -best pitch), at the Elephant and Castle, at Westminster-bridge, at the top of Edgewareroad, in St. Martin's-lane, in Newportmarket, at the upper end of , in Clare-market, in ,

The business begins about the middle of August and continues to the latter end of April, or as soon as the potatoes get to any size,— until they are pronounced 'bad.' The season, upon an average, lasts about half the year, and depends much upon the weather. If it is cold and frosty, the trade is brisker than in wet weather; indeed then little is doing. The best hours for business are from half-past in the morning till in the afternoon, and from in the evening till or at night. The night trade is considered the best. In cold weather the potatoes are frequently bought to warm the hands. Indeed, an eminent divine classed them, in a public speech, among the best of modern improvements, it being a cheap luxury to the poor wayfarer, who was benumbed in the night by cold, and an excellent medium for diffusing warmth into the system, by being held in the gloved hand. Some buy them in the morning for lunch and some for dinner. A newsvender, who had to take a hasty meal in his shop, told me he was "always glad to hear the bakedpotato cry, as it made a dinner of what was only a snack without it." The best time at night, is about , when the potatoes are purchased for supper.

The customers consist of all classes. Many gentlefolks buy them in the street, and take them home for supper in their pockets; but the working classes are the greatest purchasers. Many boys and girls lay out a halfpenny in a baked potato. Irishmen are particularly fond of them, but they are the worst customers, I am told, as they want the largest potatoes in the can. Women buy a great number of those sold. Some take them home, and some eat them in the street. baked potatoes are as much as will satisfy the stoutest appetite. potato dealer in is said to sell about cwt. of potatoes on a market-day; or, in other words, from to potatoes, and to take upwards of informant told me that he himself had often sold cwt. of a day, and taken in halfpence. I am informed, that upon an average, taking the good stands with the bad ones throughout London, there are about cwt. of potatoes sold by each baked-potato man—and there are of these throughout the metropolis—making the total quantity of baked potatoes consumed every day tons. The money spent upon these comes to within a few shillings of (calculating potatoes to the cwt., and each of those potatoes to be sold at a halfpenny). Hence, there are tons of baked potatoes eaten in London streets, and spent upon them every week during the season. Saturdays and Mondays are the best days for the sale of baked potatoes in those parts of London that are not near the markets; but in those in the vicinity of Clare, Newport, Covent-garden, Newgate, , and other markets, the trade is briskest on the marketdays. The baked-potato men are many of them broken-down tradesmen. Many are labourers who find a difficulty of obtaining employment in the winter time; some are costermongers; some have been artisans; indeed, there are some of all classes among them.

After the baked potato season is over, the generality of the hucksters take to selling strawberries, raspberries, or anything in season. Some go to labouring work. of my informants, who had been a bricklayer's labourer, said that after the season he always looked out for work among the bricklayers, and this kept him employed until the baked potato season came round again.

"When I took to it," he said, "I was very badly off. My master had no employment for me, and my brother was ill, and so was my wife's sister, and I had no way of keeping 'em, or myself either. The labouring men are mostly out of work in the winter time, so I spoke to a friend of mine, and he told me how he managed every winter, and advised me to do the same. I took to it, and have stuck to it ever since. The trade was much better then. I could buy a -weight of potatoes for to , and there were fewer to sell them. We generally use to a cwt. of potatoes -quarters of a pound of butter—tenpenny salt butter is what we buy—a pennyworth of salt, a pennyworth of pepper, and pennyworth of charcoal. This, with the baking, , brings the expenses to just upon per cwt., and for this our receipts will be , thus leaving about per cwt. profit." Hence the average profits of the trade are about a week—"and more to some," said my informant. A man in Smithfieldmarket, I am credibly informed, clears at the least a week. On the Friday he has a fresh basket of hot potatoes brought to him from the baker's every quarter of an hour. Such is his custom that he has not even time to take money. and his wife stands by his side to do so.

Another potato-vender who shifted his can, he said, "from a public-house where the tap dined at ," to another half-a-mile off, where it "dined at , and so did the parlour," and afterwards to any place he deemed best, gave me the following account of his customers:—

Such a day as this, sir [Jan. 24], when the fog's like a cloud come down, people looks very shy at my taties, very; they've been more suspicious ever since the taty rot. I thought I should never have rekivered it; never, not the rot. I sell most to mechanics—I was a grocer's porter myself before I was a baked taty—for their dinners, and they're on for good shops where I serves the taps and parlours, and pays me without grumbling, like gentlemen. Gentlemen does grumble though, for I've sold to them at private houses when they've held the door half open as they've called me—aye, and ladies too—and they've said, 'Is that all for 2d.?' If it'd been a peck they'd have said the same, I know. Some customers is very pleasant with me, and says I'm a blessing. One always says he'll give me a ton of taties when his ship comes home, 'cause he can always have a hot murphy to his cold saveloy, when tin's short. He's a harness-maker, and the railways has injured him. There's Union-street and there's Pearl-row, and there's Market-street, now,—they're all off the Borough-road—if I go there at ten at night or so, I can sell 3s. worth, perhaps, 'cause they know me, and I have another baked taty to help there sometimes. They're women that's not reckoned the best in the world that buys there, but they pay me. I know why I got my name up. I had luck to have good fruit when the rot was about, and they got to know me. I only go twice or thrice a week, for it's two miles from my regular places. I've trusted them sometimes. They've said to me, as modest as could be, 'Do give me credit, and 'pon my word you shall be paid; there's a dear!' I am paid mostly. Little shopkeepers is fair customers, but I do best for the taps and the parlours. Perhaps I make 12s. or 15s. a week—I hardly know, for I've only myself and keep no 'count —for the season; money goes one can't tell how, and 'specially if you drinks a drop, as I do sometimes. Foggy weather drives me to it, I'm so worritted; that is, now and then, you'll mind, sir.

There are, at present, vendors of hot baked potatoes getting their living in the streets of London, each of whom sell, upon an average, cwt. of potatoes daily. The average takings of each vendor is a day; and the receipts of the whole number throughout the season (which lasts from the latter end of September till March inclusive), a period of months, is

A capital is required to start in this trade as, follows:—can, ; knife, ; stock-money, ; charge for baking potatoes, ; charcoal, ; butter, ; salt, , and pepper, ; altogether, The can and knife is the only property described as fixed, stock-money, &c., being daily occurring, amounts to during the season.