All had signs, among them being:-- The Popinjay.
The Great Bell.
The White Lily.
The Three Herrings.
The Double Battle-axe.
The Three Acorns.
The Black Unicorn.
The Three Lilies.
The Curry-Comb.
The Three Hammers.
The Double Halberd.
I would rather have explored any of those breweries than the modern Delft factory.
Ireland, by the way, mentions a whimsical sign-board which he saw somewhere in Holland, but which I regret to say I did not find.

"It was a tree bearing fruit, and the branches filled with little, naked urchins, seemingly just ripened into life, and crying for succour: beneath, a woman holds up her apron, looking wistfully at the children, as if intreating them to jump into her lap.

On inquiry, I found it to be the house of a sworn midwife, with this Dutch inscription prefixed to her name:-- 'Vang my, ik zal zoet zyn,' that is, 'Catch me, I'll be a sweet boy'.

This new mode of procreation, so truly whimsical, pleased me," Ireland adds, "not a little." Let me close this chapter by quoting from an essay by my friend, Mr.Belloc, a lyrical description of the Old Church's wonderful wealth of bells: "Thirdly, the very structure of the thing is bells.

Here the bells are more even than the soul of a Christian spire; they are its body, too, its whole self.