Real Life In London, Volumes I. and II. Egan Pierce

be d——nd-if he vouldn't treat her with all the pleasure of life; and now he had got his own ass, he vould go along with her for to find her mackarel. Then shaking a cloud of brick-dust from the dry parts of his apparel, with sundry portions of mud from those parts which had most easily reached the kennel, he took the bridle of his donkey, and bidding her come along, they toddled{3} together to a gin-shop in Shoe Lane.

      1 Flat-catching—Is an expression of very common use, and

      seems almost to explain itself, being the act of taking

      advantage of any person who appears ignorant and

      unsuspicious.

      2 Lushy—Drunk.

      3 Toddle—To toddle is to walk slowly, either from

      infirmity or choice—“Come, let us toddle,” is a very

      familiar phrase, signifying let us be going.

      Desirous of seeing an end to this bit of gig—“Come along,” said Sparkle, “they'll all be in prime twig presently, and we shall have some fun.

      “I'm the boy for a bit of a bobbery,

      Nabbing a lantern, or milling a pane;

      A jolly good lark is not murder or robbery,

      Let us be ready and nimble.”

      Hark, (said he) there's a fiddle-scraper in the house—here goes;” and immediately they entered.

      They had no occasion to repent of their movements; for in one corner of the tap-room sat Billy Waters, a well-known character about town, a Black Man with a wooden leg was fiddling to a Slaughterman from Fleet-market, in wooden shoes, who, deck'd with all the paraphernalia of his occupation, a greasy jacket and night-cap, an apron besmeared with mud, blood, and grease, nearly an inch thick, and a leathern girdle, from which was suspended a case to hold his knives, and his sleeves tuck'd up as if he had but just left the slaughter-house, was dancing in the centre to the infinite amusement of the company, which consisted of an old woman with periwinkles and crabs for sale in a basket—a porter with his knot upon the table—a dustman with his broad-flapped hat, and his bell by his side—an Irish hodman—and two poor girls, who appeared to be greatly taken with the black fiddler, whose head was decorated with an oil-skinned cock'd hat, and a profusion of many coloured feathers: on the other side of the room sat a young man of shabby-genteel appearance, reading the newspaper with close attention, and purring forth volumes of smoke. Limping Billy and Mother Mapps were immediately known, and room was made for their accommodation, while the fiddler's elbow and the slaughterman's wooden shoes were kept in motion.

      Max{l} was the order of the day, and the sluicery{2} in good request. Mother Mapps was made easy by being informed the Street-keeper had her valuables in charge, which Limping Billy promised he would redeem. “Bring us a

      1 Max—A very common term for gin.

      2 Sluicery—A gin-shop or public-house: so denominated from

      the lower orders of society sluicing their throats as it

      were with gin, and probably derived from the old song

      entitled “The Christening of Little Joey,” formerly sung

      by Jemmy Dodd, of facetious memory.

      “And when they had sluiced their gobs

      With striving to excel wit,

      The lads began to hang their nobs,*

      * Nobs—Heads.

      ** Frows—Originally a Dutch word, meaning wives, or girls.

      *** Velvet—The tongue.

      noggin of white tape,{1} and fill me a pipe,” said he—“d——n my eyes, I knowed as how it vou'd be all right enough, I never gets in no rows whatever without getting myself out again—come, ould chap,{2} vet your vistle, and tip it us rum—go it my kiddy, that are's just vat I likes.”

      “Vat's the reason I an't to have a pipe?” said Mother Mapps.

      “Lord bless your heart,” said the Donkey-driver, “if I did'nt forget you, never trust me—here, Landlord, a pipe for this here Lady.”

      “Which way did the bull run?” said the Irishman.

      “Bl——st me if I know,” replied Limping Billy, “for I was a looking out for my own ass—let's have the Sprig of Shelalah, ould Blackymoor—come, tune up.”

      The old woman being supplied with a pipe, and the fiddler having rosined his nerves with a glass of blue ruin{3} to it they went, some singing, some whistling, and others drumming with their hands upon the table; while Tom, Bob, and Sparkle, taking a seat at the other side of the room, ordered a glass of brandy and water each, and enjoyed the merriment of the scene before them, perhaps more than those actually engaged in it. Bob was alive to every movement and every character, for it was new, and truly interesting: and kept growing more so, for in a few minutes Limping Billy and Mother Mapps joined the Slaughterman in the dance, when nothing could be more grotesque and amusing. Their pipes in their mouths—clapping of hands and snapping of fingers, formed a curious accompaniment to the squeaking of the fiddle—the broad grin of the Dustman, and the preposterous laugh of the

      1 White Tape—Also a common term for gin, particularly among

      the Ladies.

      2 Ould Chap, or Ould Boy—Familiar terms of address among

      flash lads, being a sort of contraction of old acquaintance,

      or old friend.

      3 Blue Ruin—Gin.

      Irishman at the reelers in the centre, heightened the picture—more gin—more music, and more tobacco, soon ad a visible effect upon the party, and reeling became unavoidable. The young man reading the paper, found it impossible to understand what he was perusing, and having finished his pipe and his pint, made his exit, appearing to have no relish for the entertainment, and perhaps heartily cursing both the cause and the effect. Still, however, the party was not reduced in number, for as one went out another came in.

      This new customer was a young-looking man, bearing a large board on a high pole, announcing the residence of a Bug-destroyer in the Strand. His appearance was grotesque in the extreme, and could only be equalled by the eccentricities of his manners and conversation. He was dressed in a brown coat, close buttoned, over which he had a red camlet or stuff surtout, apparently the off-cast of some theatrical performer, but with a determination to appear fashionable; for

      “Folks might as well be dead—nay buried too,

      As not to dress and act as others do.”

      He wore mustachios, a pair of green spectacles, and his whole figure was surmounted with a fur-cap. Taking a seat directly opposite our party at the same table—“Bring me a pint,” said he; and then deliberately searching his pockets, he produced a short pipe and some tobacco, with which he filled it—“You see,” said he, “I am obliged to smoke according to the Doctor's orders, for an asthma—so I always smokes three pipes a day, that's my allowance; but I can eat more than any man in the room, and can dance, sing, and act—nothing conies amiss to me, all the players takes their characters from me.”

      After this introduction—“You are a clever fellow, I'll be bound for it,” said Dashall.

      “O yes, I acts Richard the Third sometimes—sometimes Macbeth and Tom Thumb. I have played before Mr. Kean: then I acted Richard the Third—'Give me a horse! '—(starting into the middle of the room)—'no, stop, not so—let me see, let me see, how is it?—ah, this is the way—Give me a horse—Oh! Oh! Oh!—then you know I dies.”—And down he fell on the floor, which created a general roar of laughter; while Billy Waters struck up, “See the conquering Hero conies!” to the inexpressible delight of all around him—their feet and hands all going at the same time.

      Mother Mapps dropp'd her pipe, and d——d the weed, it made