A WOMAN, apparently about , strong-built and red-faced, speaking in a loud tone, and what people of her class account a manner, gave me the following account. I can readily condense it, for in her street career there there was nothing very novel. She was the daughter of a costermonger, and she married a costermonger before she was . On my hinting that sometimes the marriage ceremony was not considered indispensable, the good woman laughed and said, "married, or as good, it's hall as —but we was married." The marriage was not of unalloyed happiness, for the couple often wrangled and occasionally fought. This was told to me with some laughter, and with perfect good humour; for the widow seemed interested to have a listener. She did not, I feel confident, exaggerate the merits of the deceased, nor, perhaps, his failings. He was the best judge of fish in the streets, she said, and was the neatest hand in cutting it up, or showing it off; he was not "a bad sort," and was very fond of his children. When sober and at work he was a quiet fellow, without a cross word for a whole morning, but when drunk, which was far too often (unless drunk, and then he was silly), he went about tearing and swearing "like o'clock." But if he saw his wife take but a glass or , to do her good, he went on like a madman, and as if he never touched it himself. He never had nothing to say to other women—if he had she would have clawed their eyes out, and his'n too—he was as good that way as any nobleman could be, and he was a fine man to look at; and on a Sunday, when he dressed hisself, he was beautiful. He was never in a church in his life, and didn't trouble hisself about such things; they was no concern of his'n.

It may be thought that I have treated this matter too lightly, but the foregoing is really the substance, and certainly it is the tone, of the widow's talk, which she poured forth freely, without expressing wonder why any , a perfect stranger, cared to listen to such a history. She needed but a few hints and leading questions to make her talk on. Nor is this an uncommon quality even among classes who would be shocked to be classed, in any respect, with the Widowed Street- Seller. Their own career, their own sayings and doings, hopes and disappointments, alone interest masses of people, and with the simplicity which not seldom pertains to selfishness, they will readily talk of all that interests themselves, as if it must necessarily interest others. On the whole, though the departed costermonger was greatly deplored by his widow and family, they did very well without him, and carry on the business to this day. He died or years back.

I have no doubt this widow is a shrewd sales-