A Wig-Shop in the Temple HERE in the United States, as the Englishman is apt to view the matter, there is scant honor paid to judges, and possibly one reason is be cause the American judge does not wear the pompous wig without which his English brother would hardly dare to open court. In that connection special interest attaches to a queer little shop, much of the sort Dickens delighted in, which seems to do a nourishing business near the Temple. To reach the place one travels by way of courtyards and passages, among little overhung offices, to the sign of a "Law Wig and Robe Maker." In pas sages close by the guides point out pictures of the old Middle Temple Hall and of the Temple Church, and of the dining-hall of the Middle Temple.
Yonder is Middle Temple Hall, where Shakspere played "Twelfth Night." You halt before an array of wigs, set in globes, in a window which pro jects out under the arches which form part of the series connecting the "squads" of the Temple. If you are not intending to order, you step into the wig-shop timidly. "Would you have a blue bag, sir?" asks the attendant. Ten pounds, eighteen shil lings, you learn, will get you a bag and a wig, but a very ordinary wig it will be. If you are a barrister of rather higher pretensions, a King's Counsel, you want something better. A King's Coun sel wears a court wig and silk gown. The gown costs from nine to twelve guineas. The King's Counsel's whole outfit will cost possibly forty guineas, implying court suit, wig, and gown.
