Volume 1 — OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF MANUFACTURED ARTICLES. (continued 4)

The average earnings of the hucksters who exchange crockery, china and glass for the above articles, are from 8s. to 10s. per week. Some days, I am told, they will make 3s., and on others they will get only 6d. However, taking the good with the bad, it is thought that 10s. a week is about a fair average of the earnings of the whole class. The best times for this trade are at the turn of the winter, and at the summer season, because then people usually purchase new clothes, and are throwing off the old ones. The average price of an old hat is from 1d. to 8d.; for an old pair of shoes, from 1d. to 4d.; an old pair of Wellingtons fetch from 3d. to 1s. 6d. (those of French leather are of scarcely any value). An old coat is worth from 4d. to 1s.; waistcoats are valued from 1d. to 3d.; trowsers are worth from 4d. to 8d.; cotton gowns are of the same value; bonnets are of no value whatever; shirts fetch from 2d. to 6d.; stockings are 1d. per pair; a silk handkerchief varies in value from 3d. to 1s. The party supplying me with the above information was originally in the coal and greengrocery business, but, owing to a succession of calamities, he has been unable to carry it on. Since then he has taken to the vending of crockery in the streets. He is a man far above the average of the class to which he at present belongs.

Of the “Swag,” Crockery, and Glass Shops.

In addition to the 150 general and particular “swag-shops,” or shops having a large collection of goods, of which I have spoken, there are twenty establishments for the sale of crockery and china, which I heard styled by persons in the trade “swag-crocks,” or “crock-shops.” The principle on which the trade is conducted in these places is the same as that of the swag-shops, inasmuch as the sales are wholesale, to street-sellers, shop-keepers, and shippers, but rarely to private individuals.

The crock swag-shops are to be found in the streets neighbouring Spitalfields market, and in and near to Liquorpond-street. As at the more general or miscellaneous swag-shops, the crock-swags make no display. In one of the most extensive, indeed, two large windows are filled with goods. Here are spirit-stands, with the invariable three bottles (invariable in the cheap trade), blue, green, or uncoloured; some lettered “gin,” “rum,” “brandy,” but most of them unlabelled. Here, too, are cruet-stands, and “pot” or spar figures under glass shades; and a number of many-coloured flower-glasses, some of them profusely gilded; and small china vases; but the glass wares greatly predominate. Although there are glass and colour and gilding enough to make “an imposing display,” the display is nevertheless anything but showy; the goods look dingy, and, if I may so speak of such things, faded. Some of the coloured glass seems to be losing its colour, and few of the wares have the bright look of newness.

The windows of these shops are, for the most part, literally packed to a certain height, so as almost to exclude the light, with pitchers, and basins, and cups, and jugs, and the sundry smaller articles of this multifarious trade, all undusted, and seemingly uncared for. In one “large concern” I saw a number of glass salt-cellars wrapped severally in paper, which had changed from white to a dusty brown, and which from age, and perhaps damp, seemed about to fall to tatters.

The “interiors” of some of these warehouses are very spacious. I saw one large and lofty shop, into which two apartments and a yard had been flung, the partitions having been taken down, and the ceilings supported by pillars, in order to “extend the premises.” It was really a hall of pots. On the floor were large crates, the tops removed so that the goods might be examined, packed, one with cups, another with saucers, a third with basins, and packed as only a potter could pack them. Intermixed with them were piles of blue-and-white dishes and plates, and, beside them, washing-pans, fitted one into another like the old hats on a Jew’s head. The pillars had their festoons of crockery, being hung with children’s white and gold mugs “for a good boy,” and with white metal-lidded and brown-bodied mustard pots, as well as other minor articles. The shelves were loaded with tea-services of many shapes and hues, while the unoccupied space was what sufficed to allow the warehousemen and the customers to thread the mazes of this labyrinth of crockerywares. Of the glass goods there was little display, as they are generally kept in cases and other packages, to preserve their freshness of appearance.

The crockery of the swag-shops is made in Staffordshire; the glass principally in Lancashire. At none of these establishments do they issue circulars of prices, such as I have cited of the general swag-shops. The articles are so very many, I was told, that to specify all the sizes and prices “would take a volume and a half.” I give a statement, however, of the prices of the goods most in demand, on the occasions when the street vendors sell them without barter, and the prices at which they are purchased wholesale: Blue-edged plates sold at 1d. each cost 1s. 8d. the dozen; this would appear to entail a loss of 8d. on every dozen sold, but in this article “30 is a dozen.” Dishes are bought at the “swag-crocks” in “nests,” which comprise 10 dishes, or 5 pairs, of different sizes. These the street crockman sells, if possible, in pairs, but he will sell them singly, for he can always make up the complement of his “nest” at the warehouse. The prices run, chiefly according to size, from 8d. to 1s. 6d. (sometimes 1s. 8d.) the pair. “The 8d. a pair,” said one street crock-seller, “costs me 6d., not a farthing under, and the 18d. a pair—it’s very seldom we can ‘draw’ 1s. 8d.—costs 1s. 2d. That’s all, sir; and the profit’s so small, it makes us keen to swop. I’ll swop for old clothes, or dripping, or grease, or anything. You see the profit, when you sells downright down, must be small, ’cause there’s so many pot-shops with prices marked on the plates and other things. They can buy better than us sometimes, and they’re hard to stand up against. If a woman says to me—for I very seldom deal with men—‘Why, they’re cheaper at D——’s, in Oxford-street,’—I answers, ‘And worser. I’ll tell you what it is, ma’am. The cheapest place was in two houses, painted all red, in the London-road. But one fine morning them two houses fell, and the pots was smashed as a matter of course. It was a judgment on their bad pots.’ But it’s a fact, sir, that these houses fell, about 7 or 8 years ago, I think, and I’ve seen goods, with one or two of ’em broken, offered for sale when the place was re-built, having been ‘rescued from the ruins; and at less than half price.’ Of course that was gammon. I’ve cracked and broke a few plates, myself, and sold them in the New Kent-road, and in Walworth and Newington, at half price, from the ruins, and at a very tidy profit.” A stone china tea-service, of 32 pieces—12 cups, 12 saucers, 4 bread-and-butter plates, a tea-pot, a sugar-basin, a slop-basin, and a cream-jug—is bought for 6s. 9d. while 9s. is asked for it, and sometimes obtained. A “china set” costs, as the general price, 10s. 6d., and for it 14s. is asked.

The glass wares are so very rarely sold—being the most attractive articles of barter—that I could hardly get any street-seller to state his prices. “Swop, sir,” I was told repeatedly, “they all goes in swop.” The glass goods, however, which are the most sold in the streets, I ascertained to be cream-jugs, those vended at 6d. each, costing 4s. the dozen; and flower-glasses, the most frequent price being 1s. a pair, the prime cost 7d.

I have estimated the sum turned over by the general swag-shops at 3000l. each. From what I can learn, the crock swag-shops, averaging the whole, turn over a larger sum, for their profits are smaller, ranging from 10 to 30 per cent., but rarely 30. Calculating, then, that each of these swag-shops turns over 4000l. yearly, we find 80,000l. expended, but this includes the sales to shopkeepers and to shippers, as well as to street-folk.

Of the Street-Sellers of Spar and China Ornaments, and of Stone Fruit.

“Spars,” as spar ornaments are called by the street-sellers, are sold to the retailers at only four places in London, and two in Gravesend (where the hawkers are for the most part supplied). The London spar-houses are—two in Westminster, one in Shoreditch, and one on Battle-bridge. None of them present any display of their goods which are kept in large drawers, closets, and packages. At Gravesend the spar-shops are handsome.

These wares are principally of Derbyshire spar, and made in Matlock; a few are German. The “spars” are hawked on a round, and are on fine Saturday nights offered for sale in the street and markets. The trade was unknown as a street, or a hawking trade in London, I am informed, until about twenty-five years ago, and then was not extensive, the goods, owing to the cost of carriage, &c., being high-priced. As public conveyance became more rapid, certain and cheap, the trade in spars increased, and cheaper articles were prepared for the London market. From ten to fifteen years ago the vendors of spars “did well in swop” (as street-sellers always call barters). The articles with which they tempted housewives were just the sort of article to which it was difficult for inexperienced persons to attach a value. They were massive and handsome ornaments, and the spar-sellers did not fail to expatiate on their many beauties. “God rest Jack Moody’s soul,” said an Irishman, now a crock-seller, to me; “Jack Moody was only his nick-name, but that don’t matter; God rist his sowl and the hivens be his bid. He was the boy to sell the spar-r’s. They was from the cavrents at the bottom of the say, he towld them, or from a new island in the frozen ocean. He did well; God rist him; but he died young.” The articles “swopped” were such as I have described in my account of the tradings of the crock-sellers; and if the “swop” were in favour of the spar-seller, still the customer became possessed of something solid, enduring, and generally handsome.

At the outset of the street or hawking trade, the spar-sellers carried their goods done up in paper, in strong baskets on their heads; the man’s wife sometimes carrying a smaller basket, with less burdensome articles, on her arm. Men have been known to start on a round, with a basket of spars, which would weigh from 1 cwt. to 1½ cwt. (or 12 stone). This, it must be remembered, might have to be borne for three or four miles into the suburbs, before its weight was diminished by a sale. One of these traders told me that twelve years ago he had sold spar watch-stands, weighing above 15 lbs. These stands were generally of a square form; the inner portion being open, except a sort of recess for the watch. “The tick sounds well on spar, I’ve often heard,” said one spar-seller.

Some of the spar ornaments are plain, white, and smooth. Of these many have flowers, or rims, or insects, painted upon them, and in brilliant colours. Those which are now in demand for the street sales, or for itinerant barterings, are—Small microscopes, candlesticks, inkstands, pin-cushions, mugs, paper-holders, match perfumery, and shaving-boxes, etc. The general price of these articles is 6d. to the street-seller or hawker, some of the dealers being licensed hawkers. The wholesale price varies from 2s. 6d. to 5s. per dozen; or an average of 3s. 9d. or 4s. Of the larger articles the most saleable are candlesticks, at from 1s. to 2s. 6d. each; from 1s. to 1s. 6d. being the most frequent price. Watch-stands and vases are now, I am told, in small demand. “People’s got stocked, I think,” one man said, “and there’s so much cheap glass and chaney work, that they looks on spars as heavy and old-fashioned.”

Some street-sellers have their spars in covered barrows, the goods being displayed when the top of the barrow is removed, so that the conveyance is serviceable whether the owner be stationary or itinerant. The spar-sellers, however, are reluctant to expose their goods to the weather, as the colours are easily affected.

In this trade I am informed that there are now twelve men, nine of whom are assisted by their wives, and that in the summer months there are eighteen. Their profits are about 15s. per week on an average of the whole year, including the metropolis and a wide range of the suburbs. What amount of money may be expended by the public in the street purchase of “spars” I am unable to state, so much being done in the way of barter; but assuming that there are fourteen sellers throughout the year, and that their profits are cent. per cent., there would appear to be about 1000l. per annum thus laid out.

Of stone fruit there are now usually six street sellers, and in fine weather eight. Eight or ten years ago there were twenty. The fruit is principally made at Chesterfield in Derbyshire, and is disposed of to the London street-sellers in the swag-shops in Houndsditch. Some of the articles, both as regards form and colour, are well executed; others are far too red or too green; but that, I was told, pleased children best. The most saleable fruits are apples, pears, peaches, apricots, oranges, lemons and cucumbers. The cucumbers, which are sometimes of pot as well as of stone, are often hollow, and are sometimes made to serve for gin-bottles, holding about a quartern.

The price at the swag-shops is 4s. 3d. for a gross of fruit of all kinds in equal quantities; for a better quality the price is 7s. 6d. The street-seller endeavours to get 1d. each for the lower priced, and 2d. for the higher, but has most frequently to be content with ½d. and 1d. The stone fruitmen are itinerant during the week and stationary in the street markets on Saturday, and sometimes other evenings. They carry their stock both in baskets and barrows. One man told me that he always cried, “Pick ’em out! pick ’em out! Half-penny each! Cheapest fruit ever seen! As good to-morrow as last week! Never lose flavour! Ever-lasting fruit.”

Supposing that there are six persons selling stone fruit in the streets through the year, and that each earns—and I am assured that is the full amount—9s. weekly (one man said 7s. 6d. was the limit of his weekly profits in fruit), we find 140l. received as profit on these articles, and calculating the gains at 33 per cent., an outlay of 420l.

The trade in China ornaments somewhat differs from the others I have described under the present head. It is both a street and a public-house trade, and is carried on both in the regular way and by means of raffles. At some public-houses, indeed, the China ornament dealers are called “rafflers.”

The “ornaments” now most generally sold or raffled are Joy and Grief (two figures, one laughing and the other crying); dancing Highlanders; mustard pots in the form of cottages, &c.; grotesque heads, one especially of an old man, which serves as a pepper-box, the grains being thrown through the eyes, nose, and mouth; Queen and Alberts (but not half so well as the others); and, until of late, Smith O’Briens. There are others, also, such as I have mentioned in my account of the general swag-shops, to the windows of many of which they form the principal furniture. Some of these “ornaments” sold “on the sly” can hardly be called obscene, but they are dirty, and cannot be further described.

The most lucrative part of the trade is in the raffling. A street-seller after doing what business he can, on a round or at a stand, during the day, will in the evening resort to public-houses, where he is known, and is allowed to offer his wares to the guests. The ornaments, in public-house sale, are hardly ever offered for less than 6d. each, or 6d. a pair. The raffling is carried on rapidly and simply. Dice are very rarely used new, and when used, provoke many murmurs from the landlords. The raffler of the China ornaments produces a portable roulette box or table—these tables becoming an established part of the street traffic—eight or ten inches in diameter. What may be called “the board” of some of these “roulettes” is numbered to thirty-two. It is set rapidly spinning on a pivot, a pea is then slipped through a hole in the lid of the box, and, when the motion has ceased, the pea is found in one of the numbered partitions. “Now, gentlemen,” a raffler told me he would say, “try your luck for this beautiful pair of ornaments; six of you at 1d. a piece. If you go home rather how came you so, show what you’ve bought for the old lady, and it’ll be all right and peaceful.” If six persons contribute 1d. each, the one “spinning” the highest number gains the prize, and is congratulated by the ornament seller on having gained for 1d. what was only too cheap at 6d. “Why, sir,” said a man who had recently left the trade for another calling, and who was anxious that I should not give any particular description of him, “in case he went back to the raffling,”—“Why, sir, I remember one Monday evening four or five months back, going into a parlour, not a tap-room, mind, where was respectable mechanics. They got to play with me, and got keen, and played until my stock was all gone. If one man stopped raffling, another took his place. I can’t recollect how many ornaments I raffled, but I cleared rather better than 3s. 6d. When there was no ornaments left they gave me 1d. a piece—there was eleven of them then—and a pint of beer to let them have the roulette till 12 o’clock; and away they went at it for beer and screws, and bets of 1d. and 2d. One young man that had been lucky in winning the ornaments got cleaned out, and staked his ornaments for 2d., or for a 1d. rather than not play. That sort of thing only happened to me once, to the same extent. If the landlord came into the room, of course they was only playing for drink, or he might have begun about his licence.”

The ornaments are bought at the swag shops I have described, and are nearly all of German make. They are retailed from 1d. and sometimes ½d. to 1s. each, and the profit is from 25 to 75 per cent. There are, I am informed, about thirty persons in this trade, two-thirds of them being rafflers, and their receipts being from 25s. to 30s. weekly. Most of them mix “fancy glass” goods and spars, and other articles, with their “ornament” trade, so that it is not easy to ascertain what is expended upon the china ornaments independently of other wares. If we calculate it at 10s. weekly (a low average considering the success of some of the raffles), we find 780l. expended in the streets in these ornamental productions.

Of the Street-Sellers of Textile Fabrics.

These street-folk present perhaps as great a diversity of character as any of which I have been called upon to treat.

Among them are the strong persevering men, who carry rolls of linen or cotton manufacture in packs on their backs, and trudge along holding a yard-wand by the middle, which—it is a not uncommon joke against them—is always worn down an inch or two, by being used as a walking-stick in their long pedestrian journeys. Such, however, is not the case, for the packman—when measuring is resorted to—generally shows the justice of his measure, or invites the purchaser to use her own yard-wand (for women are now their most frequent customers). Some of these men love to tell of the many hundreds of miles they have walked in their time, and in the three kingdoms. The most of those who make London, or any large town their head-quarters, and take regular journeys into the country, are licensed hawkers; those who confine their sales exclusively to London and its immediate vicinity, frequently conduct their business without incurring the annual cost of a licence. The penalty for hawking without a licence is 10l., or an imprisonment (in default of payment) not exceeding three months, with a discretionary power of mitigation to the magistrates. Some of these men may be styled hereditary hawkers, having first accompanied and then succeeded their parents on a round; some were in their youth assistants to hawkers; some had been unsuccessful as tallymen when shopkeepers, or travellers for tally-shops, and have resorted to hawking or street-trading, occasionally, in their transactions with different parties, blending the tally system with the simple rules of sale for ready money.

In striking contrast to these sturdy and often astute traders are the street-sellers of lace and millinery, the majority of whom are women. A walk through a street-market, especially on a Saturday evening, will show any one the frequent difference of the established street-milliner to the other female traders surrounding her stall. The milliner, as she is commonly called by the street-folk, wears a clean, and often tasty cap, beneath her closely-fitting bonnet, a cap in which artificial flowers are not wanting, should she sell those adornments. Her shawl is pinned beneath her collar; her gown, if it be old or of poor material, is clean; and she is rarely to be seen in boots or shoes made for men’s wear. Near her stall are stout, coarse-looking Irish girls, with unstringed bonnets, half-ragged shawls, thrown loose round their shoulders, necks red from exposure to the weather, coarse and never brushed, but sometimes scraped, shoes, when shoes are worn, and a general dirtiness of apparel. The street-milliners have been ladies’-maids, working milliners and dress-makers, the wives of mechanics who have been driven to the streets, and who add to the means of the family by conducting a street-trade themselves, with a sprinkling from other classes.

The street-sellers of lace are of the same class as the milliners, but with perhaps less smartness, and carrying on an inferior trade both as regards profit and display.

The street-sellers of boot and stay-laces and of such things as sewing cotton, threads and tapes, when sold separately from more valuable articles, are children and old people, some of whom are infirm, and some blind. The children have, in some instances, been bred to the streets; the old people probably are worn out in street-trades requiring health and strength, and so adopt a less laborious calling, or else they have been driven to it, either from comparatively better circumstances, or by some privation or affliction, in order to avoid the workhouse.

The sale of belts, stockings, braces, straps and garters, is mostly in the hands of men, who, from all that I can learn, are regular street-sellers, who “turn their hands first to this and then to that,” but this portion of street-traffic is often combined with the sale of dog-collars, chains, &c. The trade is more a public-house than a distinct traffic in the street. The landlord of a well-frequented inn in Lambeth told me that every day at least 100 of such street-sellers—not including match-girls and women—entered his house to offer their wares; the greatest number of such sellers was in the evening.

I have so far described what may be called the fair traders, but to them the street-sellers of textile fabrics are not confined. There are besides these, two other classes known as “Duffers” and as “Lumpers,” and sometimes the same man is both “Duffer” and “Lumper.” The two names are often confounded, but an intelligent street-seller, versed in all the arts and mysteries of this trade, told me that he understood by a “Duffer,” a man who sold goods under false pretences, making out that they were smuggled, or even stolen, so as to enhance the idea of their cheapness; whereas a “Lumper” would sell linens, cottons, or silks, which might be really the commodities represented; but which, by some management or other, were made to appear new when they were old, or solid when they were flimsy.

Of the Haberdashery Swag-Shops.

By this name the street-sellers have long distinguished the warehouses, or rather shops, where they purchase their goods. The term Swag, or Swack, or Sweg, is, as was before stated, a Scotch word, meaning a large collection, a “lot.” The haberdashery, however, supplied by these establishments is of a very miscellaneous character; which, perhaps, can best be shown by describing a “haberdashery swag,” to which a street-seller, who made his purchases there, conducted me, and which, he informed me, was one of the most frequented by his fraternity, if not the most frequented, in the metropolis.

The window was neither dingy, nor, as my companion expressed it, “gay.” It was in size, as well as in “dressing,” or “show”—for I heard the arrangement of the window goods called by both those names by street people—half-way between the quiet plainness of a really wholesale warehouse, and the gorgeousness of a retail drapery concern, when a “tremendous sacrifice” befools the public. Not a quarter of an inch of space was lost, and the announcements and prices were written many of them in a bungling school-boy-like hand, while others were the work of a professional “ticket writer,” and show the eagerness of so many of this class of trade to obtain custom. In one corner was this announcement: “To boot-makers. Boot fronts cut to any size or quality.” There was neither boot nor shoe visible, but how a boot front can be cut “to any quality,” is beyond my trade knowledge. Half hidden, and read through laces, was another announcement, sufficiently odd, in a window decorated with a variety of combustible commodities: “Hawkers supplied with fuzees cheaper than any house in London.” On the “ledge,” or the part shelving from the bottom of the window, within the shop, were paper boxes of steel purses with the price marked so loosely as to leave it an open question whether 1s. 0¾d. or 10¾d. was the cost. There was also a good store of silk purses, marked 2½d.; bright-coloured ribbons, in a paper box, and done up in small rolls, 1½d.; cotton reels, four a penny; worsted balls, three a penny; girls’ night-caps, 1¾d.; women’s caps, from 2¾d. to 7¾d.; (the ¾d. was always in small indistinct characters, but it was a very favourite adjunct); diamond patent mixed pins—London and Birmingham—1d. an oz. My companion directed my attention to the little packets of pins: “They’re well done up, sir, as you can see, and in very good and thick and strong pink papers, with ornamental printers’ borders, and plenty of paper for three ounces. The paper’s weighed with the pins, and the price is 1d. an oz.; so the paper fetches 1s. 4d. a pound.” There were also many papers of combs, and one tied outside the packet as a specimen, without a price marked upon them. “The price varies, sir;” said my guide and informant, and I heard the same account from others; “it varies from 1d. a pair to such as me; up to 6d. or perhaps 1s. to a servant-maid what looks innocent.”

From what appeared to be slender rods fitted higher up to the breadth of the window depended “black lace handkerchiefs, 4¾d.;” and cap fronts, some being a round wreath of gauze ornamented with light rose-coloured artificial flowers, and marked “only 5½d.;” together with lace (or edgings) which hung in festoons, and filled every vacancy. Higher up were braces marked 5d.; and more lace; and to the back of all was a sort of screen—for it shuts out all view of the inside of the shop—of big-figured shawls (the figures in purple, orange, and crimson) and of silk handkerchiefs: “They’re regular duffers,” I was told, “and very tidy duffers too—very, for it’s a respectable house.”

In the centre of the window ledge was a handsome wreath of artificial flowers, marked 2½d. “If a young woman was to go in to buy it at 2½d., I’ve seen it myself, sir,” said the street-seller “she’s told that the ticket has got out of its place, for it belonged to the lace beneath, but as she’d made a mistake without thinking of the value, the flowers was 1s. 6d. to her, though they was cheap at 2s. 6d.”

From this account it will be seen that the swag or wholesale haberdashers are now very general traders; and that they trade “retail” as well as “wholesale.” Twenty or twenty-five years ago, I am informed, the greater part of these establishments were really haberdashery swags; but so fierce became the competition in the trade, so keen the desire “to do business,” that gradually, and more especially within these four or five years, they became “all kinds of swags.”

A highly respectable draper told me that he never could thoroughly understand where hosiery, haberdashery, or drapery, began or ended; for hosiers now were always glovers, and often shirt-makers; haberdashers were always hosiers (at the least), and drapers were everything; so that the change in the character of the shops from which the street-sellers of textile fabrics procure their supplies, is but in accordance with the change in the general drapery trade. The literal meaning of the word haberdashery is unknown to etymologists.

There are now about fifty haberdashery swags resorted to by street-sellers, but only a fifth part of them make the trade to street-sellers a principal, while none make it a sole feature of their business. In the enumeration of the fifty haberdashery “swags,” five are large and handsome shops carried on by “cutting” drapers. Some of these—one in the borough, especially—do not “serve” the street-sellers, except at certain hours, generally from four to six.

There is another description of shops from which a class of street traders derive their supplies of stock. These are the “print-brokers,” who sell “gown-pieces” to the hawkers or street-traders. Only about a dozen of such shops, and those principally in the borough and in Wormwood-street, Bishopsgate, are frequented by the London street-sellers. One man showed me a draper’s shop, at which hawkers were “supplied,” but without an announcement of such a thing, as it might affect the character of the concern for gentility. The gown-pieces were rolled loosely together, and to each was attached a ticket, 2s. 11d. or 3s. 11d., with intermediate prices, but those here mentioned were the most frequent. The 11d. was in pencil, so that it could be altered at any time, without the expense of a new ticket being incurred. “That one marked 2s. 11d.,” said the street-seller, “would be charged to me 2s. 2d., and the 3s. 11d. in the same way 3s. 2d., or I might get it at 3s. If those gown-pieces don’t take—and they are almost as thin as silver-paper,—they’ll be marked down to 2s. 2d. and 3s. 2d., just by degrees, as you see them shown in the window.” The regular “print-brokers” make no display in their windows or premises.

The “duffers” and “lumpers” are supplied almost entirely at one shop in the east end. The proprietor has the sham, or inferior, silk handkerchiefs manufactured for the purpose; and for the supply of his other silk-goods, he purchases any silk “miscoloured” in the dyeing, or faded from time. “A faded lavender,” one of his customers told me, “he’ll get dyed black, and made to look quite new and fresh. Sometimes it’s good silk, but it’s mostly very dicky.” This tradesman is also a retailer.

Such things as braces and garters are sold to the street people at the general as well as the haberdashery swag-shops; and are more frequently sold wholesale than other goods; indeed the general swag-shop keepers sell them by no other way; but the “wholesale haberdashers” will sell a single pair, though not, of course, at wholesale price. Some houses again supply the more petty street-sellers, solely with such articles as are known in Manchester by the name of small-ware, including thread, cotton, tapes, laces, &c.

Of Hawkers, Pedlars, and Petty Chapmen.

The machinery for the distribution of commodities has, in this and in all other “progressive” countries, necessarily undergone many changes; but whether these changes have been beneficial to the community, or not, this is not the place for me to inquire; all I have to do here is to set forth the order of such changes, and to show the position that the hawker and pedlar formerly occupied in the state.

The “distributor” of the produce of the country is necessarily a kind of go-between, or middleman, introduced for the convenience of bringing together the producer and consumer—the seller and the buyer of commodities. The producer of a particular commodity being generally distinct from the consumer, it follows, that either the commodity must be carried to the consumer, or the consumer go to the commodity. To save time and trouble to both parties, it seems to have been originally arranged that producer and consumer should meet, periodically, at appointed places. Such periodical meetings of buyers and sellers still exist in this and many other countries, and are termed either fairs or markets, according as they are held at long or short intervals—the fair being generally an annual meeting, and the market a weekly one. In the olden time the peculiar characteristic of these commercial congregations was, that the producer and consumer came into immediate contact, without the intervention of any middleman. The fair or market seemed to be a compromise between the two, as to the inconvenience of either finding the other when wanted. The producer brought his goods, so to speak, half way to the consumer, while the consumer travelled half way to the goods. “There would be a great waste of time and trouble,” says Stewart Mill, “and an inconvenience often amounting to impracticability, if consumers could only obtain the article they want by treating directly with the producers. Both producers and consumers are too much scattered, and the latter often at too great a distance from the former.”

“To diminish this loss of time and labour,” continues Mr. Mill, “the contrivance of fairs and markets was early had recourse to, where consumers and producers might periodically meet, without any intermediate agency; and this plan still answers tolerably well for many articles, especially agricultural produce—agriculturists having at some seasons a certain quantity of spare time on their hands. But even in this case, attendance is often very troublesome and inconvenient to buyers who have other occupations, and do not live in the immediate vicinity; while, for all articles the production of which requires continuous attention from the producers, these periodical markets must be held at such considerable intervals, and the wants of the consumers must either be provided for so long beforehand, or must remain so long unsupplied, that even before the resources of society permitted the establishment of shops, the supply of those wants fell universally into the hands of itinerant dealers, the pedlars who might appear once a month, being preferred to the fair, which only returned once a year. In country districts, remote from towns or large villages, the vocation of the pedlar is not yet wholly superseded. But a dealer who has a fixed abode, and fixed customers,” continues Mr. Mill, “is so much more to be depended on, that customers prefer resorting to him, if he is conveniently accessible; and dealers, therefore, find their advantage in establishing themselves in every locality where there are sufficient consumers near at hand to afford them remuneration.”

Thus we see that the pedlar was the original distributor of the produce of the country—the primitive middleman, as well as the prime mover in extending the markets of particular localities, or for particular commodities. He was, as it were, the first “free-trader;” increasing the facilities for the interchange of commodities, without regard to market dues or tolls, and carrying the natural advantages of particular districts to remote and less favoured places; thus enabling each locality to produce that special commodity for which it had the greatest natural convenience, and exchanging it for the peculiar produce of other parts.

Now, this extension of the markets necessarily involved some machinery for the conveyance of the goods from one district to another. Hence, the pedlar was not only the original merchant, but the primitive carrier—to whom, perhaps, we owe both our turnpike-roads and railways. For, since the peculiar characteristic of the pedlar was the carrying the produce to the consumer, rather than troubling the consumer to go after the produce, of course it soon became necessary, as the practice increased, and increased quantities of goods had to be conveyed from one part of the country to another, that increased facilities of transit should be effected. The first change was from the pack-man to the pack-horse: for the former a foot-way alone was required; while the latter necessitated the formation of some kind of a road. Some of these ancient pack-horse roads existed till within these few years. Hagbush-lane, which was described by William Hone only twenty years ago, but which has now vanished, was the ancient bridle or pack-horse road from London to the North, and extended by the Holloway back road as far as the City-road, near Old-street. “Some parts of Hagbush-lane,” says Hone, “are much lower than the meadows on either side.” At one time a terraced ridge, at another a deep rut, the pack-horse road must have been to the unaccustomed traveller a somewhat perilous pass. The historian of Craven, speaking of 1609, says, “At this time the communication between the north of England and the Universities was kept up by the carriers, who pursued their long but uniform route with trains of pack-horses. To their care were consigned packages, and not unfrequently the persons of young scholars. It was through their medium, also, that epistolary correspondence was managed; and as they always visited London, a letter could scarcely be exchanged between Yorkshire and Oxford in less time than a month.” The General Post Office was established by Act of Parliament in the year 1660, and all letters were to be sent through this office, “except such letters as shall be sent by coaches, common-known carriers of goods by carts, waggons, and pack-horses, and shall be carried along with their carts, waggons, and pack-horses respectively.”

“There is no such conveyance as a waggon in this country” (Scotland), says Roderick Random, referring to the beginning of the last century, “and my finances were too weak to support the expense of hiring a horse. I determined therefore to set out with the carriers, who transport goods from one place to another on horseback; and this scheme I accordingly put in execution on the 1st day of November, 1739, sitting on a pack-saddle between two baskets, one of which contained my goods in a knapsack. But by the time we arrived at Newcastle-upon-Tyne, I was so fatigued with the tediousness of the carriage, and benumbed with the coldness of the weather, that I resolved to travel the rest of my journey on foot, rather than proceed in such a disagreeable manner.”

The present mode of travelling, compared with that of the pack-horse means of conveyance as pursued of old, forms one of the most striking contrasts, perhaps, in all history.

Hence we see that the pedlar was originally both carrier and seller; first conveying his pack on his back, and then, as it increased in bulk, transferring it to the back of “the pack-horse.” But as soon as the practice of conveying the commodities to the buyers, instead of compelling the buyers to go to the commodities, was found to be advantageous to both consumer and producer, it was deemed expedient that the two distinct processes of carriage and sale, which are included in the distribution of commodities, should be conducted by distinct persons, and hence the carrying and selling of goods became separate vocations in the State; and such is now the machinery by which the commodities of different parts of this country, as well as of others, are at present diffused over the greater portion of this kingdom. In remote districts however, and the poorer neighbourhoods of large towns, where there are either too few consumers, or too few commodities required now to support a fixed distributor with a distinct apparatus of transit, the pedlar still continues to be the sole means of diffusing the produce of one locality among the inhabitants of another; and it is in this light—as the poor man’s merchant—that we must here consider him.

Among the more ancient of the trades, then, carried on in England is that of the hawker or pedlar. It is generally considered, as I said before, that hawking “is as ancient a mode of trade as that carried on in fairs and markets, towns and villages, as well as at the castles of the nobles or the cottages of their retainers.” To fix the origin of fairs is impossible, for, in ancient and mediæval times, every great gathering was necessarily a fair. Men—whom it is no violence to language to call “hawkers”—resorted alike to the Olympic games and to the festivals of the early Christian saints, to sell or barter their wares. Of our English fairs Mr. Jacob says, in his “Law Dictionary”—“Various privileges have been annexed to them, and numerous facilities afforded to the disposal of property in them. To give them a greater degree of solemnity, they were originally, both in the ancient and modern world, associated with religious festivals. In most places, indeed, they are still held on the same day with the wake or feast of the saint to whom the church is dedicated; and till the practice was prohibited, it was customary in England to hold them in churchyards. This practice, I may add, was not fully prohibited until the reign of Charles II., although it had long before fallen into disuse. Thus the connection between church and market is shown to be of venerable antiquity.”

The hawker dealt, in the old times, more in textile fabrics than in anything else. Indeed, Shakspere has dashed off a catalogue of his wares, in the song of Autolycus:

In the reigns succeeding the termination of the Wars of the Roses, and down to the Commonwealth, the hawker’s pack was often stocked with costly goods; for great magnificence in dress was then the custom of the wealthy, and even the burgesses on public occasions wore velvet, fine cambric ruffs, and furs. The hawker was thus often a man of substance and frequently travelled on horseback, with his wares slung in bags on his horse’s side, or fitted to the crupper or pommell of his saddle. He was often, moreover, attended by a man, both for help in his sales, and protection in travelling. In process of time an established hawker became the medium of news and of gossip, and frequently the bearer of communications from town to town. His profits were often great, but no little trust seems to have been reposed in him as to the quality and price of his goods; and, until the present century or so, slop goods were little manufactured, so that he could not so well practise deceptions. Neither, during the prosperity of the trade, does it appear that any great degree of dishonesty characterized the hawker, though to this there were of course plenty of minor exceptions as well as one glaring contradiction. The wreckers of our southern coasts, who sometimes became possessed of rich silks, velvets, laces, &c.—(not unfrequently murdering all the mariners cast on shore, and there was a convenient superstition among the wreckers, that it was unlucky to offer help to a drowning man)—disposed of much of their plunder to the hawkers; and as communication was slow, even down to Mr. Palmer’s improvements in the Post Office in 1784, the goods thus rescued from the deep, or obtained by the murder of the mariners, were disposed of even before the loss of the vessel was known at her destination; for we are told that there was generally a hawker awaiting a wreck on the most dangerous shores of Cornwall, Devon, Dorset, and Sussex.

During the last century, and for the first ten years of the present, the hawker’s was a profitable calling. He usually in later times travelled with horse and covered cart, visiting fairs, markets, and private houses, more especially in the country. In some parts the calling was somewhat hereditary, son succeeding to father after having officiated as his assistant, and so becoming known to the customers. The most successful of the class, alike on both sides of the border, were Scotchmen.

In 1810 the prosperity of this trade experienced a check. In that year “every hawker, pedlar, or petty chapman going from town to town, or to other men’s houses, and travelling on foot, carrying to sell or exposing for sale any goods” was required to pay a yearly licence of 4l., with an additional 4l. for every horse, ass, or mule, used in the business. Nothing, however, in the Act in question, 50 Geo. III. c. 41, as I have before intimated, “extended to prohibit” the hawking for sale of “any fish, fruit, or victuals” without licence. Neither is there any extension of the prohibition to the unlicensed workers or makers of any goods or wares, or their children or servants resident with them, hawking such goods, and selling them “in every city, borough, town corporate, or market town,” but not in villages or country places. “Tinkers, coopers, glaziers, plumbers, and harness-menders,” are likewise permitted to carry about with them the proper materials necessary for their business, no licence being necessary.

The passing of this Act did not materially check the fraudulent practices of which the hawkers were accused, and of which a portion of them were doubtlessly guilty; indeed some of the manufacturers, whose names were pirated by the hawkers, were of opinion that the licensing for ten or twenty years facilitated fraud, as many people, both in London and the country, thought they were safe in dealing with a “licensed” hawker, since he could not procure a licence without a certificate of his good character from the clergyman of his place of residence, and from two “reputable inhabitants.” Linen of good quality used to be extensively hawked, but from 1820 to 1825, or later in some parts, the hawkers got to deal in an inferior quality, “unions” (a mixture of linen and cotton), glazed and stiffened, and set off with gaudy labels bearing sometimes the name of a well-known firm, but altered in spelling or otherwise, and expressed so as to lead to the belief that such a firm were the manufacturers of the article. Jews, moreover, as we have seen, travelled in all parts with inferior watches and jewellery, and sometimes “did well” by persuading the possessors of old solid watches, or old seals or jewellery, that they were ridiculously out of fashion, and so inducing them to give money along with the old watch for a watch or other article of the newest fashion, which yet was intrinsically valueless compared with the other. These and other practices, such as selling inferior lace under pretence of its having been smuggled from France, and of the choicest quality, tended to bring the hawker’s trade into disrepute, and the disrepute affected the honest men in the business. Some sank from the possession of a good horse and cart to travelling on foot, as of yore, forwarding goods from place to place by the common carriers, and some relinquished the itinerant trade altogether. The “cutting” and puffing shopkeepers appeared next, and at once undersold the “slop” hawker, and foiled him on his own ground of pushing off inferior wares for the best. The numbers of the hawkers fell off considerably, but notwithstanding I find, in the last census tables (1841), the following returns as to the numbers of “hawkers, hucksters, and pedlars,” distributed throughout Great Britain. The Government returns, however, admit of no comparison being formed between these numbers and those of any previous time.

England and Wales.

Bedford79

Berks160

Bucks129

Cambridge139

Chester362

Cornwall175

Cumberland217

Derby427

Devon230

Dorset97

Durham301

Essex339

Gloucester437

Hereford44

Hertford137

Huntingdon45

Kent284

Lancaster1862

Leicester292

Lincoln435

Middlesex1597

Monmouth163

Norfolk431

Northampton214

Northumberland426

Nottingham267

Oxford94

Rutland23

Salop240

Somerset201

Southampton226

Stafford472

Suffolk288

Surrey609

Sussex238

Warwick476

Westmorland44

Wilts109

Worcester247

City of York63

East Riding of York200

North Riding187

West Riding1039

14,038

Wales.

Anglesey14

Brecon63

Cardigan38

Carmarthen49

Carnarvon32

Denbigh69

Flint35

Glamorgan202

Merioneth25

Montgomery31

Pembroke46

Radnor20

624

Island in the British Seas47

Scotland.

Aberdeen105

Argyll44

Ayr144

Banff33

Berwick41

Bute17

Caithness4

Clackmannan18

Dumbarton29

Dumfries72

Edinburgh401

Elgin, or Moray37

Fife77

Forfar108

Haddington54

Inverness33

Kincardine27

Kinross9

Kirkcudbright46

Lanark677

Linlithgow33

Nairn2

Orkney and Shetland10

Peebles13

Perth119

Renfrew107

Ross and Cromarty11

Roxburgh96

Selkirk18

Stirling95

Sutherland5

Wigtown36

2561

Thus we find that, in 1841, there were of these trades in

England14,038

Wales624

British Isles47

Scotland2,561

Total in Great Britain17,270

The counties in which the hawkers, hucksters, and pedlars most abound appear to be—1st, Lancaster; 2nd, Middlesex; 3rd, Yorkshire (West Riding); 4th, Lanark; and 5th, Surrey.

What rule, if any rule, was observed in classing these “hawkers, hucksters, and pedlars,” or what distinction was drawn between a hawker and a huckster, I am unable to say, but it is certain that the number of “licensed hawkers” was within one-half of the 17,270; for, in 1841, the hawkers’ duty realized only 32,762l. gross revenue, and waiving the amount paid for the employment of horses, &c., the official return, reckoning so many persons paying 4l. each, shows only 8190 licensed hawkers in 1841.

The hawker’s business has been prosecuted far more extensively in country than in town, but he still continues to deal in London.

Of the Packmen, or Hawkers of Soft Wares.

The packman, as he is termed, derives his name from carrying his merchandise or pack upon his back. These itinerant distributors are far less numerous than they were twenty or twenty-five years since. A few years since, they were mostly Irishmen, and their principal merchandise, Irish linens—a fabric not so generally worn now as it was formerly.

The packmen are sometimes called Manchester-men. These are the men whom I have described as the sellers of shirtings, sheetings, &c. One man, who was lately an assistant in the trade, could reckon twenty men who were possessed of good stocks, good connections, and who had saved money. They traded in an honourable manner, were well known, and much respected. The majority of them were natives of the north of Ireland, and two had been linen manufacturers. It is common, indeed, for all the Irishmen in this trade to represent themselves as having been connected with the linen manufacture in Belfast.

This trade is now becoming almost entirely a country trade. There are at present, I am told, only five pursuing it in London, none of them having a very extensive connection, so that only a brief notice is necessary. Their sale is of both cottons and linens for shirts. They carry them in rolls of 36 yards, or in smaller rolls, each of a dozen yards, and purchase them at the haberdashery swag-shops, at from 9d. to 18d. a yard. I now speak of good articles. Their profits are not very large—as for the dozen yards, which cost them 9s., they often have a difficulty in getting 12s.—while in street-sale, or in hawking from house to house, there is great delay. A well-furnished pack weighs about one cwt., and so necessitates frequent stoppages. Cotton, for sheetings, is sold in the same manner, costing the vendors from 6d. to 1s. 3d. a yard.

Of the tricks of the trade, and of the tally system of one of these chapmen, I had the following account from a man who had been, both as principal and assistant, a travelling packman, but was best acquainted with the trade in and about London.

“My master,” he said, “was an Irishman, and told everybody he had been a manager of a linen factory in Belfast. I believe he was brought up to be a shoemaker, and was never in the north of Ireland. Anyhow, he was very shy of talking about Irish factories to Irish gentlemen. I heard one say to him, ‘Don’t tell me, you have the Cork brogue.’ I know he’d got some knowledge of linen weaving at Dundee, and could talk about it very clever; indeed he was a clever fellow. Sometimes, to hear him talk, you’d think he was quite a religious man, and at others that he was a big blackguard. It wasn’t drink that made the difference, for he was no drinker. It’s a great thing on a round to get a man or woman into a cheerful talk, and put in a joke or two; and that he could do, to rights. I had 12s. a week, standing wages, from him, and bits of commissions on sales that brought me from 3s. to 5s. more. He was a buyer of damaged goods, and we used to ‘doctor’ them. In some there was perhaps damages by two or three threads being out all the way, so the manufacturers wouldn’t send them to their regular customers. My master pretended it was a secret where he got them, but, lord, I knew; it was at a swag-shop. We used to cut up these in twelves (twelve yards), sometimes less if they was very bad, and take a Congreve, and just scorch them here and there, where the flaws was worst, and plaster over other flaws with a little flour and dust, to look like a stain from street water from the fire-engine. Then they were from the stock of Mr. Anybody, the great draper, that had his premises burnt down—in Manchester or Glasgow, or London—if there’d been a good fire at a draper’s—or anywhere; we wasn’t particular. They was fine or strong shirtings, he’d say—and so they was, the sound parts of them—and he’d sell as cheap as common calico. I’ve heard him say, ‘Why, marm, sure marm, with your eyes and scissors and needle, them burns—ah! fire’s a dreadful judgment on a man—isn’t the least morsel of matter in life. The stains is cured in a wash-tub in no time. It’s only touched by the fire, and you can humour it, I know, in cutting out as a shirt ought to be cut; it should be as carefully done as a coat.’ Then we had an Irish linen, an imitation, you know, a kind of ‘Union,’ which we call double twist. It is made, I believe, in Manchester, and is a mixture of linen and cotton. Some of it’s so good that it takes a judge to tell the difference between it and real Irish. He got some beautiful stuff at one time, and once sold to a fine-dressed young woman in Brompton, a dozen yards, at 2s. 6d. a yard, and the dozen only cost him 14s. Then we did something on tally, but he was dropping that trade. The shopkeepers undersold him. ‘If you get 60l. out of 100l., in tally scores,’ he often said, ‘it’s good money, and a fair living profit;’ but he got far more than that. What was worth 8s. was 18s. on tally, pay 1s. a week. He did most that way with the masters of coffee-shops and the landlords of little public-houses. Sometimes, if they couldn’t pay, we’d have dinner, and that went to account, and he’d quarrel with me after it for what was my share. There’s not much of this sort of trade now, sir. I believe my old master got his money together and emigrated.”

“Do you want any ginuine Irish linin, ma’am?” uttered in unmistakable brogue, seemed to authenticate the fact, that the inquirer (being an Irishman) in all likelihood possessed the legitimate article; but as to their obtaining their goods from Coleraine and other places in the Emerald Isle, famed for the manufacture of linen, it was and is as pure fiction as the Travels of Baron Munchausen.

The majority of these packmen have discontinued dealing in linens exclusively, and have added silks, ladies’ dresses, shawls and various articles connected with the drapery business. The country, and small towns and villages, remote from the neighbourhood of large and showy shops, are the likeliest markets for the sale of their goods. In London the Irish packmen have been completely driven out by the Scotch tallymen, who indeed are the only class of packmen likely to succeed in London. If the persevering Scotch tallyman can but set foot in a decent-looking residence, and be permitted to display his tempting finery to the “lady of the house,” he generally manages to talk her into purchasing articles that perhaps she has no great occasion for, and which serve often to involve her in difficulties for a considerable period—causing her no little perplexity, and requiring much artifice to keep the tallyman’s weekly visits a secret from her husband—to say nothing of paying an enormous price for the goods; for the many risks which the tallyman incurs, necessitates of course an exorbitant rate of profit.

“The number of packmen or hawkers of shawls, silks, &c., I think” (says one of their own body) “must have decreased full one-half within the last few years. The itinerant haberdashery trade is far from the profitable business that it used to be, and not unfrequently do I travel a whole day without taking a shilling: still, perhaps, one day’s good work will make up for half a dozen bad ones. All the packmen have hawkers’ licences, as they have mostly too valuable a stock to incur the risk of losing it for want of such a privilege. Some of the fraternity” (says my informant) “do not always deal ‘upon the square;’ they profess to have just come from India or China, and to have invested all their capital in silks of a superior description manufactured in those countries, and to have got them on shore ‘unbeknown to the Custom-house authorities.’ This is told in confidence to the servant-man or woman who opens the door—‘be so good as tell the lady as much,’ says the hawker, ‘for really I’m afraid to carry the goods much longer, and I have already sold enough to pay me well enough for my spec—go, there’s a good girl, tell your missus I have splendid goods, and am willing almost to give them away, and if we makes a deal of it, why I don’t mind giving you a handsome present for yourself.’” This is a bait not to be resisted. Should the salesman succeed with the mistress, he carries out his promise to the maid by presenting her with a cap ribbon, or a cheap neckerchief.

The most primitive kind of packmen, or hawkers of soft-wares, who still form part of the distributing machinery of the country, traverse the highlands of Scotland. They have their regular rounds, and regular days of visiting their customers; their arrival is looked for with interest by the country people; and the inmates of the farm-house where they locate for the night consider themselves fortunate in having to entertain the packman; for he is their newsmonger, their story-teller, their friend, and their acquaintance, and is always made welcome. His wares consist of hose—linsey wolsey, for making petticoats—muslins for caps—ribbons—an assortment of needles, pins, and netting-pins—and all sorts of small wares. He always travels on foot. It is suspected that he likewise does a little in the “jigger line,” for many of these Highlanders have, or are supposed to have, their illicit distilleries; and the packmen are suspected of trafficking without excise interference. Glasgow, Dundee, Galashiels, and Harwick are the principal manufacturing towns where the packman replenishes his stock. “My own opinion,” says an informant of considerable experience, “is that these men seldom grow rich; but the prevailing idea in the country part of Scotland is, that the pedlar has an unco lang stockin wi’ an awfu’ amount o goden guineas in it, and that his pocket buik is plumped out wi’ a thick roll of bank notes. Indeed there are many instances upon record of poor packmen having been murdered—the assassins, doubtlessly, expecting a rich booty.” It scarcely ever costs the packman of Scotland anything for his bed and board. The Highlanders are a most hospitable people with acquaintances—although with strangers at first they are invariably shy and distant. In Ireland there is also the travelling pedlar, whose habits and style of doing business are nearly similar to that of the Scotchman. Some of the packmen of Scotland have risen to eminence and distinction. A quondam lord provost of Glasgow, a gentleman still living, and upon whom the honour of knighthood has been conferred, was, according to common report, in his earlier days a packman; and rumour also does the gentleman the credit to acknowledge that he is not ashamed to own it.

I am told by a London hawker of soft goods, or packman, that the number of his craft, hawking London and its vicinity, as far as he can judge, is about 120 (the census of 1841 makes the London hawkers, hucksters and pedlars amount to 2041). In the 120 are included the Irish linen hawkers. I am also informed that the fair trader’s profits amount to about 20 per cent., while those of the not over-particular trader range from 80 to 200 per cent. In a fair way of business it is said the hawker’s taking will amount, upon an average, to 7l. or 8l. per week; whereas the receipts of the “duffer,” or unfair hawker, will sometimes reach to 50l. per week. Many, however, travel days, and do not turn a penny.

Statement of a Packman.

Of the way of trading of a travelling-pedlar I had the following account from one of the body. He was well dressed, and a good but keen-looking man of about thirty-five, slim, and of rather short stature, with quick dark eyes and bushy whiskers, on which it was evident no small culture was bestowed. His manners were far from obtrusive or importunate—to those whom he sought to make customers—for I happened to witness a portion of his proceedings in that respect; but he had a quiet perseverance with him, which, along with perfect civility, and something like deference, might be the most efficient means of recommending himself to the maid-servants, among whom lay his chief customers. He showed a little of the pride of art in describing the management of his business, but he would not hear that he “pattered:” he talked to his customers, he declared, as any draper, who knew his business well, might talk to his.

When I saw him, his pack, which he carried slung over one shoulder, contained a few gown-pieces of printed cotton, nearly all with pink grounds; a few shawls of different sizes; and three rolls firmly packed, each with a card-label on which was neatly written, “French Merino. Full duty paid. A.B.—L.F.—18—33—1851. French Chocolate.” There were also six neat paper packages, two marked “worked collars,” three, “gauze handkerchiefs,” and the other “beautiful child’s gros de naples.” The latter consisted of 4½ yards of black silk, sufficient for a child’s dress. He carried with him, moreover, 5 umbrellas, one inclosed in a bright glazed cover, while from its mother-of-pearl handle hung a card addressed—“The Lady’s Maid, Victoria Lodge, 13s. 6d.”

“This is a very small stock,” he said, “to what I generally carry, but I’m going on a country round to-morrow, and I want to get through it before I lay in a new one. I tell people that I want to sell off my goods cheap, as they’re too good for country sale; and that’s true, the better half of it.”

On my expressing some surprise that he should be leaving London at this particular time, he answered:—

“I go into the country because I think all the hawkers will be making for town, and there’ll be plenty of customers left in the country, and fewer to sell to them at their own places. That’s my opinion.”

“I sell to women of all sorts. Smart-dressing servant-maids, perhaps, are my best customers, especially if they live a good way from any grand ticketing shop. I sold one of my umbrellas to one of them just before you spoke to me. She was standing at the door, and I saw her give half a glance at the umbrellas, and so I offered them. She first agreed to buy a very nice one at 3s. 3d. (which should have been 4s.), but I persuaded her to take one at 3s. 9d. (which should have been 4s. 6d.). ‘Look here, ma’am,’ said I, ‘this umbrella is much bigger you see, and will carry double, so when you’re coming from church of a wet Sunday evening, a friend can have share of it, and very grateful he’ll be, as he’s sure to have his best hat on. There’s been many a question put under an umbrella that way that’s made a young lady blush, and take good care of her umbrella when she was married, and had a house of her own. I look sharp after the young and pretty ladies, Miss, and shall as long as I’m a bachelor.’ ‘O,’ says she, ‘such ridiculous nonsense because it’s often so windy about here, and then one must have a good cover if it rains as well.’

“That’s my way, sir. I don’t mind telling that, because they do the same in the shops. I’ve heard them, but they can’t put love and sweet-hearting so cleverly in a crowded shop as we can in a quiet house. It’s that I go for, love and sweet-hearting; and I always speak to any smart servant as if I thought she was the mistress, or as if I wasn’t sure whether she was the mistress or the lady’s-maid; three times out of four she’s house-maid or maid of all work. I call her ‘ma’am,’ and ‘young lady,’ and sometimes ‘miss.’ It’s no use offering to sell until a maid has tidied herself in the afternoon—not a bit. I should make a capital draper’s shopman, I know, only I could never bear the confinement. I never will hear such words as ‘I don’t want it,’ or, ‘nothing more to-day,’ no more than if I was behind a counter.

“The great difficulty I have is to get a chance of offering my goods. If I ring at a gate—for I always go a little way out of town—they can see who it is, and I may ring half an hour for nothing. If the door’s opened it’s often shut again directly, and I just hear ‘bother.’ I used to leave a few bills, and I do so still in some parts of the country, with a list of goods, and ‘this bill to be called for’ printed at the bottom. But I haven’t done that in town for a long time; it’s no good. People seem to think it’s giving double trouble. One of the prettiest girls I ever saw where I called one evening, pointed—just as I began to say, ‘I left a bill and’—to some paper round a candle in a stick, and shut the door laughing.

“In selling my gown-pieces I say they are such as will suit the complexion, and such like; and I always use my judgment in saying so. Why shouldn’t I? It’s the same to me what colour I sell. ‘It’s a genteel thing, ma’am,’ I’ll say to a servant-maid, ‘and such as common people won’t admire. It’s not staring enough for them. I’m sure it would become you, ma’am, and is very cheap; cheaper than you could buy at a shop; for all these things are made by the same manufacturers, and sold to the wholesale dealers at the same price, and a shopkeeper, you know, has his young men, and taxes, and rates, and gas, and fine windows to pay for, and I haven’t, so it don’t want much judgment to see that I must be able to sell cheaper than shopkeepers, and I think your own taste, ma’am, will satisfy you that these here are elegant patterns.’

“That’s the way I go on. No doubt there’s others do the same, but I know and care little about them. I have my own way of doing business, and never trouble myself about other people’s patter or nonsense.

“Now, that piece of silk I shall, most likely, sell to the landlady of a public-house, where I see there’s children. I shall offer it after I’ve got a bit of dinner there, or when I’ve said I want a bit. It’s no use offering it there, though, if it isn’t cheap; they’re too good judges. Innkeepers aren’t bad customers, I think, taking it altogether, to such as me, if you can get to talk to them, as you sometimes can at their bars. They’re generally wanting something, that’s one step. I always tell them that they ought to buy of men, in my way, who live among them, and not of fine shop-keepers, who never came a-near their houses. I’ve sold them both cottons and linens, after such talk as that. I live at public-houses in the country. I sleep nowhere else.

“My trade in town is nothing to what it was ten or a dozen years back. I don’t know the reason exactly. I think so many threepenny busses is one; for they’ll take any servant, when she’s got an afternoon, to a thoroughfare full of ticket-shops, and bring her back, and her bundle of purchases too, for another 3d. I shall cut it altogether, I think, and stick to the country. Why, I’ve known the time when I should have met from half-a-dozen to a dozen people trading in my way in town, and for these three days, and dry days too, I haven’t met one. My way of trading in the country is just the same as in town. I go from farm-house to farm-house, or call at gentlemen’s grand seats—if a man’s known to the servants there, it may be the best card he can play—and I call at every likely house in the towns or villages. I only go to a house and sell a mistress or maid the same sort of goods (a little cheaper, perhaps), and recommend them in the same way, as is done every day at many a fine city, and borough, and West-End shop. I never say they’re part of a bankrupt’s stock; a packfull would seem nothing for that. I never pretend that they’re smuggled. Mine’s a respectable trade, sir. There’s been so much dodging that way, it’s been a great stop to fair trading; and I like to go on the same round more than once. A person once taken-in by smuggled handkerchiefs, or anything, won’t deal with a hawker again, even though there’s no deception. But ‘duffing,’ and all that is going down fast, and I wish it was gone altogether. I do nothing in tally. I buy my goods; and I’ve bought all sorts, in wholesale houses, of course, and I’d rather lay out 10l. in Manchester than in London. O, as to what I make, I can’t say it’s enough to keep me (I’ve only myself), and escape the income-tax. Sometimes I make 10s. a week; sometimes 20s.; sometimes 30s.; and I have made 50s.; and one week, the best I ever did, I made as much as 74s. 6d. That’s all I can say.”

Perhaps it may be sufficiently accurate to compute the average weekly earnings of a smart trader like my informant, at from 21s. to 25s. in London, and from 25s. to 30s. in the country.

Of the Tally Packman.

The pedlar tallyman is a hawker who supplies his customers with goods, receiving payment by weekly instalments, and derives his name from the tally or score he keeps with his customers. Linen drapery—or at least the general routine of linen-draper’s stock, as silk-mercery, hosiery, woollen cloths, &c.—is the most prevalent trade of the tallyman. There are a few shoemakers and some household furniture dealers who do business in the tally or “score” system; but the great majority are linen-drapers, though some of them sell household furniture as well. The system is generally condemned as a bad one; as leading to improvidence in the buyer and rapacity in the seller. There are many who have incurred a tally debt, and have never been able to “get a-head of it,” but have been kept poor by it all their lives. Some few, however, may have been benefited by the system, and as an outfit for a young man or woman entering service is necessary—when the parties are too poor to pay ready money—it is an accommodation. I have never heard any of the tallyman’s customers express an opinion upon the subject, other than that they wish they had done with the tallyman, or could do without him.

The system does not prevail to so great an extent as it did some years back. The pedlar or hawking tallyman travels for orders, and consequently is said not to require a hawker’s licence. The great majority of the tally-packmen are Scotchmen. The children who are set to watch the arrival of the tallyman, and apprise the mother of his approach, when not convenient to pay, whisper instead of “Mother, here’s the Tallyman,” “Mother, here’s the Scotchman.” These men live in private houses, which they term their warehouse; they are many of them proprietors themselves in a small way, and conduct the whole of their business unassisted. Their mode of doing business is as follows:—they seldom knock at a door except they have a customer upon whom they call for the weekly instalment, but if a respectable-looking female happens to be standing at her door, she, in all probability, is accosted by the Scotchman, “Do you require anything in my way to-day, ma’am?” This is often spoken in broad Scotch, the speaker trying to make it sound as much like English as possible. Without waiting for a reply, he then runs over a programme of the treasures he has to dispose of, emphasising all those articles which he considers likely to suit the taste of the person he addresses. She doesn’t want perhaps any—she has no money to spare then. “She may want something in his way another day, may-be,” says the tallyman. “Will she grant him permission to exhibit some beautiful shawls—the last new fashion? or some new style of dress, just out, and an extraordinary bargain?” The man’s importunities, and the curiosity of the lady, introduces him into the apartment,—an acquaintance is called in to pass her opinion upon the tallyman’s stock. Should she still demur, he says, “O, I’m sure your husband cannot object—he will not be so unreasonable; besides, consider the easy mode of payment, you’ll only have to pay 1s. 6d. a week for every pound’s worth of goods you take; why it’s like nothing; you possess yourself of respectable clothing and pay for them in such an easy manner that you never miss it; well, I’ll call next week. I shall leave you this paper.” The paper left is a blank form to be filled up by the husband, and runs thus:—“I agree on behalf of my wife to pay, by weekly instalments of 1s. 6d. upon every pound’s worth of good she may purchase.” This proceeding is considered necessary by the tallymen, as the judges in the Court of Requests now so frequently decide against him, where the husband is not cognisant of the transaction.

These preliminaries being settled, and the question having been asked what business the husband is—where he works—and (if it can be done without offence) what are his wages? The Scotchman takes stock of the furniture, &c.; the value of what the room contains gives him a sufficiently correct estimate of the circumstances of his customers. His next visit is to the nearest chandler’s shop, and there as blandly as possible he inquires into the credit, &c., of Mr. ——. If he deal, however, with the chandler, the tallyman accounts it a bad omen, as people in easy circumstances seldom resort to such places. “It is unpleasant to me,” he says to the chandler, “making these inquiries; but Mrs. —— wishes to open an account with me, and I should like to oblige them if I thought my money was safe.” “Do you trust them, and what sort of payers are they?” According to the reply—the tallyman determines upon his course. But he rarely stops here; he makes inquiries also at the greengrocer’s, the beer shop, &c.

The persons who connect themselves with the tallyman, little know the inquisition they subject themselves to.

When the tallyman obtains a customer who pays regularly, he is as importunate for her to recommend him another customer, as he originally was to obtain her custom. Some tallymen who keep shops have “travellers” in their employ, some of whom have salaries, while others receive a percentage upon all payments, and do not suffer any loss upon bad debts. Notwithstanding the caution of the tallyman, he is frequently “victimised.” Many pawn the goods directly they have obtained them, and in some instances spend the money in drink. Their many losses, as a matter of course, somebody must make good. It therefore becomes necessary for them to charge a higher price for their commodities than the regular trader.

However charitably inclined the tallyman may be at first, he soon becomes, I am told, inured to scenes of misery, while the sole feeling in his mind at length is, “I will have my money;” for he is often tricked, and in some cases most impudently victimised. I am told by a tallyman that he once supplied goods to the amount of 2l., and when he called for the first instalment, the woman said she didn’t intend to pay, the goods didn’t suit her, and she would return them. The tallyman expressed his willingness to receive them back, whereupon she presented him a pawnbroker’s duplicate. She had pledged them an hour after obtaining them. This was done in a court in the presence of a dozen women, who all chuckled with delight at the joke.

The principal portion of the tallyman’s customers are poor mechanics. When the appearance of the house, and the inquiries out of doors are approved of, no security is required; but the tallyman would at all times rather add a security, when attainable. Servant-girls who deal with tallymen must find the security of a housekeeper; and when such housekeeper agrees to be responsible for the payments, the same inquisitorial proceedings are adopted, in order to ascertain the circumstances of the surety. There are about fifty drapery shops in London where the tally-trade is carried on; and about 200 Scotchmen, besides fifty others (part English, part Irish), are engaged in the trade. A clerk of a tally-shop, at the West-end, informs me that there are ten collectors and canvassers for customers, out each day, from that one establishment; and that, until lately, they were accustomed to collect moneys on Sundays. Some collect as much as 12l. or 14l. a day; and some not more than 2l. or 3l. The average sum collected may be about 5l. each, or 50l. per day by the whole. The profits are 30 per cent., the bad debts 10 per cent., thus leaving 20 per cent. net.

The Scotchman who does not choose to extend his business beyond his own cautious superintendence, is content with smaller profits, perhaps 20 per cent., and his bad debts may be estimated at 2½ per cent. One of the body informed me that he had been in the tally-trade about five years; that he commenced with a capital of only 10l., and that now his collections average 30l. per week. He never bought, he said, on credit; and his stock on hand is worth nearly 200l. cost price, while his outstanding debts are nearly 200l. also. “This is a flourishing state of affairs,” he remarked; “I do not owe a penny in the world, and I have accomplished all this in little less than five years.” This man had served his apprenticeship to a draper in Glasgow, and had originally arrived in London with 20l. in his pocket. After some weeks’ fruitless endeavour to obtain a situation, his money dwindling away the while, he was advised, by a fellow-countryman, who was a tallyman, to try the tally-trade. For a few days previous to adopting the business, he went the “rounds” with his friend, for the purpose of getting initiated, and the week after started on his own account. Notwithstanding his having no hawker’s licence, he tried to effect sales for ready money, and, to a trifling extent, succeeded. The first week he obtained three tally customers. He could have got, he said, a dozen; but he selected three whom he considered good, and he was not deceived, for they continued to be customers of his to this day. The amount of goods that each of these took of him was 20s.; and the three instalments of 1s. 6d. each (4s. 6d. per week) the tallyman determined to subsist upon, though his lodging and washing cost him 2s. per week. He lived principally upon “parritch” and skim milk, indulging now and then in the luxury of a herring and a few potatoes. In twelve weeks he had added only one more credit customer to his books. He had hawked for ready money, and had succeeded so far as to increase his stock to 15l. in value. His first three customers had, by this time, paid their accounts, and again patronized him. In the course of a little time his fourth customer had also paid up, and had another supply of goods; he then added two more tally customers, and commenced indulging (though very seldom) in a mutton chop. He progressed slowly, and is now in flourishing circumstances. He states that he has met with only one loss during his connection with the tally-trade, and that but a trifling one. It is those who wish to drive a very extensive business, he says, who are principally victimised. The most industrious of the packmen tallymen seldom travel less than twenty miles a day, carrying a burthen upon their backs of from 100 to 120 lbs. They used to carry merely patterns to their customers, but they find that the full-length article is more likely to secure purchasers and customers. Those who keep shops do not carry goods with them; the would-be customer is invited to the shop.

The best day for business in the tally-trade is Monday, and most of these shops upon that day are crowded. Sometimes an unsolicited customer (mostly a female) presents herself, and wishes to be supplied with goods on tally. “Who recommended you?” inquires the tallyman. “Oh, Mrs. ——, sir, a customer of yours.” “Ah! indeed, very much obliged to Mrs. ——,” is the answer. The articles required are shown, selected, and cut. The new customer is treated most civilly by the tallyman, who further inquires her name and abode. The purchaser, of course, expects the next process will be to deliver up the parcel to her, when she is informed that they “will send it home for her.” “Oh,” she replies, “I won’t trouble you, I can carry it myself.” “Our rule, ma’am,” returns the tallyman, “is always to send parcels home. We certainly cannot doubt your respectability, but we never deviate from our practice.” The disappointed female departs, and if the inquiries do not prove satisfactory, she never hears further from the tallyman. The goods which she selected, and which were cut expressly for her, find their way to the shelves of the establishment. If, however, a good customer accompanies a friend whom she wishes to recommend, the parcels are delivered when purchased, if required. The tallyman (to good customers) often extends his civilities to a glass of wine; or, if the “Ladies” prefer it (which it must be confessed they mostly do), a glass of gin.

There is another class of tallymen who sell clocks, receiving payment by weekly instalments. These are content with an instalment of 1s. in the pound per week. They are principally Germans who can speak English. Their proceedings altogether are similar to the tally linen-draper.

I have given the rise and progress of a Scotch tallyman, and will now relate the downfall of another—an Englishman. He commenced a tally-shop in the neighbourhood of ——, and was carrying on a prosperous and daily increasing trade. At one time, a bill in the shop window announced that an errand boy was wanted—an applicant soon presented himself—was engaged, and proved a steady lad. In the course of a few weeks, this youth was promoted to the office of serving in the shop, and afterwards became collecting clerk. “George,” said his master one day, “we have three days in the week unemployed; suppose you try and form a connection around Finchley, Highgate, Hampstead, and that neighbourhood.” George was quite willing to make the experiment, and succeeded beyond expectation. The country connection soon surpassed the town trade; and George, the errand boy, became a man of some consequence in the establishment. The principal of the firm was what is termed “gay.” He was particularly fond of attending public entertainments. He sported a little as well, and delighted in horse-racing. His business, though an excellent one, was neglected; the books got out of order; and he became involved in difficulties. An examination of his affairs took place; and a Mr. R—— was engaged from a wholesale house in the city to assist in making up the accounts, &c. During this person’s sojourn in the shop, he saw that George (the quondam errand boy) was the chief support of the concern. The country customers had never seen any other person, and a partnership was proposed. The proposal was accepted, and the firm R—— and W—— became one of the most prosperous tally-shops in the neighbourhood of Tottenham-court-road. George’s master was made bankrupt, and is now a street-seller in Fitzroy-market—vending sandwiches, &c.

The cases are not a few where ruin has followed a connection with the tallymen. I will particularize one instance related to me on good authority. A lawyer’s clerk married, when young, a milliner; his salary was a guinea per week, and he and his wife had agreed to “get on in the world.” They occupied furnished lodgings at first, but soon accumulated furniture of their own, and every week added some little useful article towards their household stock. “At the end of a year,” said the individual in question, “I had as comfortable a little home as any man would wish to possess; I was fond of it too, and would rather have been there than anywhere else. My wife frequently wished to obtain credit; ‘it would be so easy,’ said she, ‘to pay a trifling instalment, and then we could obtain immediately whatever we might want.’ I objected, and preferred supplying our wants gradually, knowing that for ready money I could purchase to much better advantage. Consequently we still kept progressing, and I was really happy. Judge my astonishment one day, when I came home, and found an execution was in the house. My wife had run in debt with the tallyman unknown to me. Summonses had been served, which by some means she had concealed from me. The goods which I had taken so much pains to procure were seized and sold. But this was not all. My wife grew so much alarmed at the misery she had caused that she fled from me, and I have never seen her but once since. This occurred seven years ago, and she has been for some time the companion of those who hold their virtue of little worth. For some time after this I cared not what became of me; I lost my situation, and sunk to be a supernumerary for 1s. a night at one of the theatres. Here, after being entrusted with a line to speak, I eventually rose to a ‘general utility man,’ at 12s. per week. With this and some copying, that I occasionally obtain from the law-stationers, I manage to live, but far from comfortably, for I never think of saving now, and only look out for copying when I stand in need of more money. I am always poor, and scarcely ever have a shilling to call my own.”

Some of the principal establishments, “doing largely” in the tally-trade, are in or about Red Lion-square and street, the higher part of High Holborn, the vicinity of Tottenham-court-road, the Blackfriars, Waterloo, Westminster, St. George’s, Walworth, New Kent, and Dover roads.

At some of these tally-shops horses and carts are kept to carry out the goods ordered of the “travellers,” especially when furniture is supplied as well as drapery; while in others the “travellers” are resident on the premises, and are occasionally shopmen, for a “large” tally-master not unfrequently carries on a retail trade in addition to his tally-business.

The tallymen not concerned with these large establishments, but carrying on trade on their own account, reside generally in the quieter streets in the neighbourhood of the thoroughfares I have mentioned, and occupy perhaps the ground-floor, letting (for the house is generally their own) the other apartments. Sometimes a piece of cotton-print is placed in their parlour-window, and sometimes there is no indication whatever of any business being carried on within, for the hawking tallymen do not depend in any measure upon situation or display, but solely on travelling and personal solicitations at people’s own residences.

Of the “Duffers” or Hawkers of Pretended Smuggled Goods.

Of “duffers” and “lumpers,” as regards the sale of textile fabrics, there are generally, I am informed, about twenty in London. At such times as Epsom, Ascot-heath, or Goodwood races, however, there is, perhaps, not one. All have departed to prey, if possible, upon the countrymen. Eight of them are Jews, and the majority of the others are Irishmen. They are generally dressed as sailors, and some wear either fur caps, or cloth ones, with gilt bands round them, as if they were the mates or stewards of ships. They look out for any likely victim at public-houses, and sometimes accost persons in the streets—first looking carefully about them, and hint that they are smugglers, and have the finest and cheapest “Injy” handkerchiefs ever seen. These goods are now sold in “pieces” of three handkerchiefs. When times were better, I was told, they were in pieces of four, five, and six. One street-seller said to me, “Yes, I know the ‘duffers;’ all of them. They do more business than you might think. Everybody likes a smuggled thing; and I should say these men, each of the ‘duffers,’ tops his 1l. a week, clear profit.” I am assured that one of the classes most numerously victimised is a body who generally account themselves pretty sharp, viz. gentlemen’s grooms, and coachmen at the several mews. Sailors are the best customers, and the vicinity of the docks the best locality for this trade; for the hawker of pretended smuggled goods always does most business among the “tars.” The mock handkerchiefs are damped carefully with a fine sponge, before they are offered for sale; and they are often strongly perfumed, some of the Jews supplying cheap perfumes, or common “scents.” When the “duffer” thinks he may venture upon the assertion, he assures a customer that this is “the smell the handkerchiefs brought with ’em from foreign parts, as they was smuggled in a bale of spices!” The trade however is not without its hazards; for I am informed that the “duffers” sometimes, on attempting their impositions imprudently, and sometimes on being discovered before they can leave the house, get soundly thrashed. They have, of course, no remedy.

The “pieces” of three handkerchiefs sold by the “duffers” are purchased by them in Houndsditch, at from 3s. to 7s.; but 7s. is only given when there is a design to palm off the 3s. goods along with them. Cent. per cent. is a low profit in this trade.

One intelligent street-trader, to whom I am indebted for carefully-considered information, said to me very quietly: “I’ve read your work, sir, at a coffee-shop; for I can’t afford to take it in. I know you’re going to open the eyes of the public as to the ‘duffer’s’ tricks, now. All right, sir, they’re in honest men’s ways. But, sir, when are you going to say something about the rich shopkeepers as sells, and the rich manufacturers as makes, the ‘duffer’s’ things? Every man of them knows it’s for roguery.”

There is a peculiar style among the “duffers;” they never fold their goods neatly—the same as drapers do, but thrust them into the pack, in a confused heap, as if they did not understand their value—or their business. There are other classes of “duffers” whose calling is rather more hazardous than the licensed-hawker “duffer.” “I have often thought it strange,” says a correspondent, “that these men could induce any one to credit the fact of their being sailors, for, notwithstanding the showy manner in which they chew their quid, and the jack-tar like fashion in which they suffer their whiskers to grow, there is such a fresh-waterfied appearance about them, that they look no more like a regular mariner than the supernumerary seamen in a nautical drama, at the Victoria Theatre. Yet they obtain victims readily. Their mode of proceeding in the streets is to accost their intended dupes, while walking by their side; they usually speak in a half whisper, as they keep pace with them, and look mysteriously around to see if there be any of ‘them ere Custom-house sharks afloat.’ They address the simple-looking passers by thus: ‘Shipmate’ (here they take off their fur-cap and spit their quid into it)—‘shipmate, I’ve just come ashore arter a long voyage—and splice me but I’ve something in the locker that’ll be of service to you; and, shiver my timbers’ (they are very profuse in nautical terms), ‘you shall have it at your own price, for I’m determined to have a spree, and I haven’t a shot in the locker; helm’s a-lee; just let’s turn into this creek, and I’ll show you what it is’ (perhaps he persuades his dupe down a court, or to a neighbouring public-house). ‘Now here is a beautiful piece of Ingy handkerchiefs.’ (They are the coarsest description of spun not thrown silk, well stiffened into stoutness, and cost the “duffer” perhaps 15d. each; but as business is always done on the sly, in a hurry, and to escape observation, an examination seldom or never takes place). ‘I got ’em on shore in spite of those pirates, the Custom-house officers. You shall have ’em cheap, there’s half a dozen on ’em, they cost me 30s. at Madras, you shall have ’em for the same money.’ (The victim, may be, is not inclined to purchase. The pretended tar, however, must have money.) ‘Will you give me 25s. for them?’ he says; ‘d—n it, a pound? Shiver my topsails, you don’t want them any cheaper than that, do you!’ The ‘duffer’ says this to make his dupe believe that he really does want the goods, or has offered a price for them. Perhaps if the ‘duffer’ cannot extort more he takes 10s. for the half dozen ‘Ingy’ handkerchiefs, the profit being thus about 2s. 6d.; but more frequently he gets 100 and even 200 per cent. on his transactions according to the gullibility of his customers. The ‘duffer’ deals also in cigars; he accosts his victim in the same style as when selling handkerchiefs, and gives himself the same sailor-like airs.