Punch appears to have been particularly impressed by the "roomy" character of the crinoline, as, in an amusing if somewhat laboured skit in the early days of 1860, he unbosoms himself as follows:

"Among the million objections to the use of the wide petticoats not the least well-founded is the fact that they are used for purposes of shoplifting. This has many times been proved at the bar of the police courts, and we wonder that more notice has not been attracted to it. For ourselves, the fact is so impressed upon our mind, that when we ever come in contact with a Crinoline which seems more than usually wide, we immediately put down the wearer as a pick-pocket, and prepare ourselves at once to see her taken up. Viewing Crinoline, indeed, as an incentive to bad conduct, we forbid our wives and daughters to wear it when out shopping, for fear that it may tempt them to commit some act of theft. A wide petticoat is so convenient a hiding-place for stowing away almost any amount of stolen goods, that we cannot be surprised at finding it so used, and for the mere sake of keeping them from roguery, the fewer women have it at their fingers' ends the better. Some ladies have a monomania for thievery, and when they go on a day's shopping can hardly keep their hands off what does not belong to them. Having a commodious receptacle in reach, wherein they may deposit whatever they may sack, they are naturally tempted to indulge in their propensity, by the chances being lessened that they will be found out.

KING AND MRS. BADDELEY.

"As an instance of how largely the large petticoats are used in acts of petty larceny, we may mention a small fact which has come within our knowledge, and which it may be to the interest of shopkeepers to know. Concealed beneath the skirts of a fashionably dressed female were, the other day, discovered by a vigilant detective the following choice proofs of her propensity to plunder: viz., twenty-three shawls, eleven dozen handkerchiefs, sixteen pairs of boots (fifteen of them made up with the military heel), a case of eau-de-Cologne, a ditto of black hair-dye, thirty pairs of stays, twenty-six chemises, five dozen cambric handkerchiefs, and eleven ditto silk, nineteen muslin collars, and four-and-forty crochet ones, a dressing case, five hair brushes (three of them made with tortoiseshell and two with ivory gilt backs), a pair of curling irons, eight bonnets without trimmings and nine-and-twenty with them, a hundred rolls of ribbon, half a hundredweight of worsted, ten dozen white kid gloves and twenty dozen coloured ones, forty balls of cotton, nine-and-ninety skeins of silk, a gridiron, two coal-scuttles, three packets of ham sandwiches, twenty-five mince pies, half a leg of mutton, six boxes of French plums, ten ditto of bonbons, nine pâtés de foie gras, a dozen cakes of chocolate and nine of portable hare soup, a warming pan, five bracelets, a brace of large brass birdcages, sixteen bowls of goldfish, half a score of lapdogs, fourteen dozen lever watches, and an eight-day kitchen clock.

"After this discovery, who will venture to deny that Crinoline with shoplifters is comparable to charity, inasmuch as it may cover a multitude of sins?"

A curious advertisement in the Illustrated London News of October 10, 1863, announces that—"Ondina, or waved Jupons, do away with the unsightly results of the ordinary hoops, and so perfect are the wave-like bands that a lady may ascend a steep stair, lean against a table, throw herself into an armchair, pass to a stall in the opera, or occupy a fourth seat in a carriage without inconvenience to herself or to others, or provoking rude remarks of the observers, thus modifying in an important degree all those peculiarities tending to destroy the modesty of English women, and lastly, it allows the dress to fall into graceful folds. Price 21s. Illustrations free." With all these advantages, who would not wear a crinoline?

In the new year of 1860 Punch gives a cut ("Some good account at last") of a skater in pot-hat and pegtops, encircled by the framework of an enormous crinoline, cutting graceful figures upon the ice and exclaiming, "Entirely my own idea, Harry—ease, elegance, and safety combined—I call it the skater's friend." "Some good account at last"? Unkind Mr. Punch! Must we, then, measure the value of everything in this world by its bare utility? The crinoline will endure as a sweet solace to senses tired by the ennui of this dull earth. The memory of it will outlive the ages.

In the early seventies we find our old friend Punch again upon the warpath, and the Venus of Milo dons the crinoletta! This, however, is only a repetition of his satire on the crinoline in his "Essence of Parliament," May, 1860:—