The next lad I examined was called Mike. He was a short, stout-set
youth, with a face like an old man’s, for the features were hard
and defined, and the hollows had got filled up with dirt till his
countenance was brown as an old wood carving. I have seldom seen so
dirty a face, for the boy had been in a perspiration, and then wiped
his cheeks with his muddy hands, until they were marbled, like the
covering to a copy-book.
The old lady of the house in which the boy lived seemed to be hurt by
the unwashed appearance of her lodger. “You ought to be ashamed of
yourself--and that’s God’s truth--not to go and sluice yourself afore
spaking to the jintlemin,” she cried, looking alternately at me and the
lad, as if asking me to witness her indignation.
Mike wore no shoes, but his feet were as black as if cased in gloves
with short fingers. His coat had been a man’s, and the tails reached to
his ankles; one of the sleeves was wanting, and a dirty rag had been
wound round the arm in its stead. His hair spread about like a tuft of
grass where a rabbit has been squatting.
He said, “I haven’t got neither no father nor no mother,--never had,
sir; for father’s been dead these two year, and mother getting on
for eight. They was both Irish people, please sir, and father was a
bricklayer. When father was at work in the country, mother used to get
work carrying loads at Covent-garden Market. I lived with father till
he died, and that was from a complaint in his chest. After that I lived
along with my big brother, what’s ’listed in the Marines now. He used
to sweep a crossing in Camden-town, opposite the Southampting Harms,
near the toll-gate.
“He did pretty well up there sometimes, such as on Christmas-day, where
he has took as much as six shillings sometimes, and never less than one
and sixpence. All the gentlements knowed him thereabouts, and one or
two used to give him a shilling a-week regular.
“It was he as first of all put me up to sweep a crossing, and I used to
take my stand at St. Martin’s Church.
“I didn’t see anybody working there, so I planted myself on it. After a
time some other boys come up. They come up and wanted to turn me off,
and began hitting me with their brooms,--they hit me regular hard with
the old stumps; there was five or six of them; so I couldn’t defend
myself, but told the policeman, and he turned them all away except
me, because he saw me on first, sir. Now we are all friends, and work
together, and all that we earns ourself we has.
“On a good day, when it’s poured o’ rain and then leave off sudden, and
made it nice and muddy, I’ve took as much as ninepence; but it’s too
dry now, and we don’t do more than fourpence.
“At night, I go along with the others tumbling. I does the cat’en-wheel
[probably a contraction of Catherine-wheel]; I throws myself over
sideways on my hands with my legs in the air. I can’t do it more than
four times running, because it makes the blood to the head, and then
all the things seems to turn round. Sometimes a chap will give me a
lick with a stick just as I’m going over--sometimes a reg’lar good hard
whack; but it ain’t often, and we general gets a halfpenny or a penny
by it.
“The boys as runs after the busses was the first to do these here
cat’en-wheels. I know the boy as was the very first to do it. His name
is Gander, so we calls him the Goose.
“There’s about nine or ten of us in our gang, and as is reg’lar; we
lodges at different places, and we has our reg’lar hours for meeting,
but we all comes and goes when we likes, only we keeps together, so as
not to let any others come on the crossings but ourselves.
“If another boy tries to come on we cries out, ‘Here’s a Rooshian,’ and
then if he won’t go away, we all sets on him and gives him a drubbing;
and if he still comes down the next day, we pays him out twice as much,
and harder.
“There’s never been one down there yet as can lick us all together.
“If we sees one of our pals being pitched into by other boys, we goes
up and helps him. Gander’s the leader of our gang, ’cause he can tumble
back’ards (no, that ain’t the cat’en-wheel, that’s tumbling); so he
gets more tin give him, and that’s why we makes him cap’an.
“After twelve at night we goes to the Regent’s Circus, and we tumbles
there to the gentlemen and ladies. The most I ever got was sixpence at
a time. The French ladies never give us nothink, but they all says,
‘Chit, chit, chit,’ like hissing at us, for they can’t understand us,
and we’re as bad off with them.
“If it’s a wet night we leaves off work about twelve o’clock, and don’t
bother with the Haymarket.
“The first as gets to the crossing does the sweeping away of the mud.
Then they has in return all the halfpence they can take. When it’s been
wet every day, a broom gets down to stump in about four days. We either
burns the old brooms, or, if we can, we sells ’em for a ha’penny to
some other boy, if he’s flat enough to buy ’em.”