Brownjohn Street, Decadia, on a bright summer's morning, when
improvements had not made the neighbourhood a little less dingy than of
old; when the pleasant district named after, but, all the same, a
perfect disgrace to, a certain patron saint, had not recovered from the
vast and clean sweep to which it had been subjected.
So early in the day, there was peace. There was no fight in progress
before either of the palaces famed for the dispensing of gin; the police
were not binding some fierce, dishevelled, and blaspheming virago to a
stretcher, and then patting their hair or whiskers in tender spots from
whence locks had been ravished by the handful, previous to bearing the
drunken scold to the X station, attended by a train of howling
creatures, in human form, but debased by "the vitriol madness"--the
poison mental and bodily sold to them by the name of "Cream of the
Valley"--"of the Shadow of Death," might well have been added. The
courts of the palaces were quiet as yet, and brawny-muscled bar and
potmen were brightening counters, polishing plate-glass and mirrors, or
burnishing brass, ready for the night, when the gas should be in full
blaze. Men and women slink in and out now--coming in a dark secretive
way, to partake of "pen'orths," or, as they were here facetiously
termed, "coffin nails," to rouse the spirits, flagging from the effects
of the previous night's debauch. Burglars and pickpockets--night-birds
both--slept in their lairs, hiding from the light, and waiting in
drunken sleep for the darkness that was to them their day.
But Brownjohn Street was full of life: young men and women of the
Decadian type--not children, though their years varied from five to
ten--span the celebrated Decadian top, or sent pointed instruments,
known as "cats," darting through the air; halfpenny kites were flown
with farthing balls of cotton; and one select party waltzed, fancy free,
around a street organ, what time a young gentleman of about twelve, who
had already attained to the dignity of greased sidelocks, performed a
castanet accompaniment upon two pairs of bones, and another of the same
age, whose costume consisted of one rag, one pair of trousers, secured
beneath the arm-pits with string, and a great deal of dirt, stood upon
his head, swayed his legs about as if in cadence with the air played by
the organist, and occasionally beat together the soles of his bony feet.
Altogether it was a happy party, and the Italian ground away and showed
his white teeth; the children danced; and the whole scene might have
been Watteau-like, but for the streets and the dirt.
Vehicles seldom passed down Brownjohn Street; the warning "Hi!" was
rarely uttered by the driver, and the children ran in and out of the
burrows of the human warren, wild and free, until old enough to be
trained to prey upon their fellows. But they partook more of the rat
than of the rabbit in their nature, for they were small-sized, careworn
street Arabs, whose names would yet become famous in the "Hue and Cry,"
or, under the head of "Police Intelligence" in the morning papers.
Dense, dismal, close, swarming, dirty, with the flags broken, and the
gutters heaped up with refuse--such was Brownjohn Street; for dandies no
longer escorted beauty homeward to such and such a number, in a
sedan-chair, with running footmen and link-bearers to clear the way.
But, teeming with population as was Brownjohn Street, those swarms were
not all of the _genus homo_--the place upon this bright summer morning,
when the sun was struggling with the mists and foul exhalations, was a
perfect _rus in urbe_. The sound of the Italian's organ was drowned by
the notes of birds, as lark, canary, and finch sang one against the
other in glorious trills, telling of verdant mead and woodland grove, as
they hung in cages by the hundred outside dingy windows high and low.
The shops were full of birds from floor to ceiling. One place had its
scores of wooden cages, some eight inches square, each containing its
German canary-immigrant, another window was aviary and menagerie
combined; but no shop displayed so great a variety as the one bearing
the name of "D. Wragg, Naturalist, Dealer in British and Foreign Birds."
Grey parrots shrieked, bantams crowed, ferrets writhed and twisted like
furry snakes, rabbits thrust their noses between the bars of a parrot's
cage, a pair of hedgehogs lay like prickly balls in the home lately
vacated by a lark, and quite a dozen dogs were ranged outside over the
area grating, in rabbit-hutches, to the great hindrance of the light and
the washing of Mrs Winks, then being carried on in the cellar-kitchen.
There was a door to D. Wragg's shop, if you could get through it without
hanging yourself in the chains, with collars attached, swinging from one
post, and avoid knocking down the dragons which watched from the other
side.
Not that these last were inimical monsters, for they were but
dragon-pigeons, watching with an anxiety in their soft eyes which told
of expected food or water.
It was different though with the dogs, since they snapped openly at
trousers' legs, out of which garments, they had been known to take
pieces, in spite of a general reputation for harmlessness.
The pinky cockatoos also possessed a firmness of beak that was by no
means pleasant if they could manage a snip. But once past the door, and
you were pretty safe amidst the wonders which met your eye: a couple of
knowing-looking magpies gazing at you sideways; a jay, the business of
whose life seemed to be to make two hops with the regularity of a
pendulum; squirrels and white mice, which spun round their cages and
fidgeted and scratched; a doleful owl blinking in a corner; a large
hawk, which glared with wicked eyes from cage to cage, as if asking who
would die next to make him a meal, as he stood on one leg, and smelt
nasty, in another corner; squealing parroquets and twittering avadavats;
bullfinches which professed to pipe, but did not; and a white hare, fast
changing its hue, which did tattoo once on the side of its hutch.
And even when you had seen these, you had not seen all, for in every
available or unavailable place there was something stowed, living or
dead.
Love-birds cuddled up together, budgerigars whistled and scratched,
while in one large wire cage, apparently quite content, about fifty rats
scurried about or sat in heaps, with their long, worm-like tails hanging
out in all directions from between the wires, as if they were fishing
for food, and snatched at the chance of getting a bite. One sage grey
fellow sat up in a corner, in an attitude evidently copied from a feline
enemy, whom he imitated still further as he busied himself over his
toilet, pawing and smoothing his whiskers, like an old buck of a rat as
he undoubtedly was, and happily ignorant that before many hours were
past he would be sold with his fellows by the dozen, and called upon to
utter his last squeak while helping to display the gameness of one of
the steel-trap-jawed terriers, trying so hard to strangle themselves,
and making their eyeballs protrude as they hung by their collars,
tugging in the most insensate way at chains that would not break.
And here, amidst trill, whistle, screech, squeak, coo, snarl, and bark--
amongst birdseed, German paste, rat and mouse traps, cages, new and
secondhand, besides the other wonders which helped to form D. Wragg's
stock-in-trade, was Patty Pellet, whose bright, bird-like voice vied
with those of the warblers around, and whose soft, plump form looked as
tender, as lovable, and as innocent as that of one of the creamy doves
that came to her call, perched upon her shoulder, and--oh, happy dove!--
fed from the two ruddy, bee-stung, honeyed lips, that pouted and offered
a pea or a crumb of bread to the softly cooing bird, which seemed to
gaze lovingly at the bright face, the brighter for the dark framing of
misery, vice, and wretchedness by which it was here surrounded.
Patty was enjoying herself that morning, seeing, as she called it, to
Janet's pets; for in spite of the vileness of the neighbourhood, she was
often here, in consequence of her strange friendship for the adopted
daughter of Monsieur Canau, who lodged on D. Wragg's first floor. The
acquaintanceship had originated in the visits of the Frenchman and his
ward to the house in Duplex Street in quest of violin-strings, and
through similarity of tastes, had ripened into affection between the
girls, in spite of something like dislike evinced at first by Jared
Pellet, and something more than dislike displayed by his wife, who,
however, ended by yielding, and treating in the most motherly fashion
the object of Patty's regard, and of late many pleasant evenings had
been spent by Canau and Janet in Jared Pellet's modest parlour, on which
occasions the little house resounded with wondrous strains, until the
children were so wakeful that they rose in revolt, and the instruments
had to be silenced.
Patty's friend had just left her visitor and gone up-stairs in answer to
a summons from Monsieur Canau, while the proprietor of all this wealth
sat in his back room, a pleasant museum of stuffed departed
stock-in-trade. He was smoking his pipe, and spelling over the
morning's paper, taking great interest in the last garrotting case--
merely called, in those days, a violent assault--so that Patty, left
alone, was enjoying herself, as was her custom, in dispensing seed, red
sand, chickweed, and groundsel, and other food--with water unlimited--to
the hungry many.
"Have you brought me anythink to do for you, my dovey?" said a voice,
and a round red fat face appeared from somewhere, being thrust into the
shop between a parrot's cage, and a bunch of woolly and mossy balls,
such as are supplied to young birds about to set up housekeeping.
"Nothing this morning, Mrs Winks," trilled Patty.
"Not nothink, my dovey? no collars, nor hankychys, nor cuffs? The
water's bilin', and the soap and soda waitin', so don't say as you've
brought nothink as I can wash."
"Nothing--nothing--nothing," laughed Patty; "but be a dear old soul, and
fetch me a pail of clean water, so that I can fill the globe for Janet
before she comes back."
"Of course I will, my pet; only fetch me the pail, or I shall be
knocking of something down if I come any further."
Patty handed the pail as requested to Mrs Winks, correcting very mildly
a spaniel that leaped up at her as she did so. She then disappeared for
a few minutes, to return bearing in her little hands a large globe, in
which were sailing round and round half-a-dozen goldfish, staring
through the glass in a stupid contented way, as their bright scales
glistened and their fat mouths opened and shut in speechless fashion.
Then, as she set the globe down upon the counter, there came a loud
panting from the passage--a heavy rustling--and the next moment it was
evident that Mrs Winks had made her way to the front, for she now puffed
her way in at the shop-door, bearing the well-filled pail.
"Oh, how kind!" cried Patty; "I could have taken it in at the side."
"You look fit to carry pails, now, don't you, you kitten; it's bad
enough to let you come here at all," said the stout dame, smiling; and
she stood, very tubby in shape, and rested her pinky, washing-crinkled
hands for a moment upon her hips; then she wiped her nose upon her
washed-out print apron; and lastly, as Patty stooped to pour the water
from the globe, and replenish it with fresh, Mrs Winks softly took a
step nearer, and just once gently stroked the young girl's fair glossy
hair, drawing back her hand the next instant as Patty looked up and
smiled.
"Ah, my dovey! why, here's Mounseer just going out for his walk!"
exclaimed Mrs Winks, as the little, shabby yellow-faced Frenchman
squeezed into the shop through the side-door, his shoulders hoisted
nearly to his ears, and his hands occupied the one with a cigarette, the
other with a tasselled cane.
"Ah! tenez then, dogs," he cried, thumping his cane upon the floor, for
he had been saluted with a barking chorus. "Janet will soon be down,--
and how is my little one?"
Patty held out her hand, when, laying his cigarette upon the counter,
the old man took off his hat, placed it in the same grasp that held his
cane, and then, with the grace of an old courtier, kissed the little
round fingers that were extended to him. Directly after, he replaced
his hat, but only to raise it again in salute to Mrs Winks, who
acknowledged the act of courtesy by shortening herself two inches, and
then rising to her normal height and breadth.
"I was just going to say, Mounseer, that if all people were as polite as
you, how easy we could get along; and that if I was like Miss Patty
here, people wouldn't be so rude and queer when one goes round with the
basket."
"Aha! they are rude, then, those people in the galleree?"
"Rude ain't nothing to it, Mr Canau; they makes way fast enough for the
man with the porter, but when I'm coming with my basket of apples,
oranges, biscuits, ginger-beer, and bills of the play, they goes on
dreadful, a-sticking out their knees and grumbling, and a-hindering one
to that degree, that you've no idee what a heat I'm in when I've gone
down a row; and never gets half round before the curting rises again,
let alone their remarks about being fat--just as if I made myself fat,
which I don't; and, as I says to one hungry-looking fellow, I says, `If
I was as thin as you, I'd be a super still, and you admiring of me,
instead of my having to supply people's nasty animal wants, and being
abused for it.' For--I put it to you now, Mr Canau--can people do
without their apples, and oranges, and things, when a play's long and
heavy? and I'm sure I've helped many a noo piece to a success, when it
would--Oh, if there isn't the water a-bilin' over!"
With an agility and lightness almost corklike, Mrs Winks, warned by a
strong and pungent odour steaming up between the boards, hurried down
below; the little Frenchman lit his cigarette, kissed his hand to Patty,
and then shuffled in his well-worn and cracked Wellington boots from the
shop.
Patty, quite at home, refilled her bright bowl with water, and bore it
through the side-door, and then returned to continue supplying the many
wants around; but only to be interrupted by a fresh comer--a barefooted,
round-faced, ragged man, smoking a short black pipe, but bent almost
double beneath the heavy basket he bore, one which required a great deal
of manoeuvring to get it past the cages, in addition to a great many low
adjurations, in a husky voice, to "come on then!" or to "get out!" But
at last it was safely deposited beside the counter, when the bearer made
quite an Indian salaam, bending low in salutation to the smiling girl.
"That's the werry last noo bow, Miss. I larnt that of my friend
Jammesie Jeejeewo, what plays the little tom-tom drum with his fingers
outside the public-houses of a night, and sings `Fa-la-ma-sa-fa-la-ta;'
and sells scent-packets, and smiles like a nigger all day long in Oxford
Street. He's own brother to the opium-eating cove as has allers got the
cold shiver and freeze, and sweeps the crossin' at the Cirkis. That's
it, Miss," he said, bowing again with outstretched hands. "Blame the
thing! what are you up to?" he shouted, shaking and snapping his soft
fingers, one of which had come in contact with the cage of a hungry
parrot, and been smartly nipped.
"Well, Dick!" said Patty, kindly.
"Well, Miss, but where's Miss Janet? But, there! love and bless your
pretty face, Miss, it's a treat to see you here. Why, you makes the
shop full of sunshine, and the birds to sing happier than if they was
far away amongst their own woods and fields. But now to business,
Miss," he exclaimed, as, stooping to the basket on the floor, he brought
out, piled one upon the other, a dozen freshly-cut, green, round,
cheese-plate-like clover turves. "Tuff's is getting werry skeerce,
Miss; and will you tell Miss Janet as they've riz another penny a dozen?
Penny a mile miss, accorden' to Act of Parlyment. Every mile I goes
farther away, I puts on a penny a dozen. They won't let you cut 'em
anywheres; and I got these four mile t'other side Pa'an'ton. I'm blest
if there'll be a bit of country soon, or a blessed scrap of chickweed or
grunsel, or a tuff to cut anywheres. There wouldn't be no water-creases
if people didn't grow 'em a purpose; and that's what I shall have to do
with grunsel--have a farm and grow it by the acre. You know, Miss, the
bricks and mortar frightens the green stuff; and it goes farder and
farder away, till it costs me a pound a year more for shoe-leather than
it did a time ago."
"Come, Dick, business," said Patty, smiling at his earnestness; "I'm
mistress just now."
"To be sure, Miss--business," said Dick. "Grunsel, Miss; there you are.
Chickweed, green as green, and fresh as a daisy; plantain--there's a
picter--there's fine long stalks, as full of seeds as Injin corn, and
'most as big; but blow my rags, if I don't think this here's the werry
last to be got."
As he spoke, the man placed the various bunches he had enumerated upon
the counter, and then looked up smiling in Patty's face as she spoke.
"Why, Janet says you tell her that story, Dick, every time you come,"
laughed Patty, as she paid him the money, obtained from the inner room,
while every coin the man took he rubbed upon his eyelids for luck, as he
said, before wrapping them all in the piece of dirty rag which served
him for a purse.
"Well, Miss, I know I've often said so; but really things is now growing
to a pretty pass, and you've no idea the miles I have to tramp. Now,
look ye there! What do you say to that, Miss Patty? That's for you and
Miss Janet, poor lass. She love flowers, she do. Them sorter things
don't grow amongst scaffle-poles and mortar-boards and contractors'
brick-rubbidge. Why, I had to go--"
"O Dick! O Dick! you good fellow! Oh, how sweet!" exclaimed Patty,
with sparkling eyes, as the rough fellow brought from out of his basket,
with the dew yet heavy upon their petals, a bunch of wild-flowers--late
violets, blue-bells, primroses, and the peachy wood-anemone.
She took them from him with almost childish joy, smelt them, kissed
them, and then for a moment held them to her breast, but only to dart
into the back room for a little common vase, to fill it with water, and
then carefully place the flowers within it.
"I thought as you'd like 'em," said the man, as he watched her with
glittering eye; "but they're getting werry skeerce, Miss; and what with
the building and 'closing commons, and shutting up of Epping Foresses,
there soon won't be no more flowers for poor people, only in shop
winders and grand ladies' bonnets, and of course they won't smell. You
mark my words, Miss; afore long, London'll get to be so big that it'll
fill up all England, and swaller up all the country, so that they'll
have to build right out all round into the sea, and get their grunsel
and chickweed for singin' birds from furrin parts."
"It was very kind of you, though, Dick, to think of us," said Patty; and
she held out her hand with a coin or two half-hidden therein; but the
rough gipsy fellow shook his head, as he struggled against the
temptation, for it was hard work to refuse money; then stooping, he
occupied his hands with the straps of his basket.
"I don't want no payin' for 'em, Miss. I ain't forgot the many a good
turn she done my poor missus. I aint half outer debt yet. Besides, I'm
flush just now; got a good two bobs' worth o' stuff, if I'm lucky, and
here goes to sell it. Miss Janet all right?"
As the answer came in the affirmative, the man guided his basket out,
and commenced singing in a sonorous minor key--
"Chickweed and grunsel for your singin' birds!" as he turned to go down
the street, rubbing his eyes with the knuckles of one hand. "Might ha'
been like her, if she'd on'y ha' lived," he muttered; and then, giving
his eyes another rub, the dirty knuckles of his hand glistened as if
with moisture, as he gave his strap and basket another hitch before
going any farther.
Chickweed Dick was gone; but he only gave place to one Chucky, who drew
a donkey-cart to the door, and brought in a basket of red sand. Then
came boys to ask the price of guinea-pigs and white mice; boys to offer
squirrels or hedgehogs for sale--miry and dusty boys, with the marks of
the shires upon their shabby garb, to indicate long tramps, as bits of
hay and straw whispered of nights passed beneath some friendly stack;
but the proprietor of this Noah's ark was already overstocked, and, in
spite of references made by Patty, there was no dealing.
Patty meanwhile sang on as she fed the rest of the stock; and as if in
emulation, the birds whistled loudly, darting eagerly at their cage
bars, as she distributed the green food brought by Dick; but her song
suddenly ceased, as did that of the birds, when a heavy-looking
gaol-typical young fellow, in a sleeved vest, entered the shop, breathed
hard, and then, staring offensively at Patty the while, asked to look at
some finches.
Patty, glancing at the room door to see if any one was coming, lifted
down a cage containing perhaps a score; but the gentleman seemed hard to
please, pointing out failings here and there in the various birds, till
he seemed to fix the poor girl with his stare, though she kept striving
to master her trepidation, and to hide from her unpleasant visitor the
fact that his presence caused her dread.
"I say," he whispered, suddenly; "I say," and he leaned across the
counter.
The movement seemed to break the spell, for Patty now made an effort to
retreat to the back room; but, in a moment, the fellow had stretched out
one long, gorilla-like arm, effectually barring her way, when hawk and
dove seemed to stand in the naturalist's shop, eye to eye, the weak
quailing before the strong.
A loud rustle of a newspaper within ended the scene, for, starting at
the sound, the rough visitor turned his attention to the birds once
more, and re-commenced his fault-finding, giving Patty time to recover
herself, and to redden with anger at what she was ready to call her
cowardice when there was some one in the next room.
"You see it ain't for myself," said the fellow, once more fixing his
gaze on Patty, but turning the cage round the while; "it wouldn't matter
if I wanted it; but he'll have to come and pick one for hisself. I
don't think I'll take one to-day."
Patty was about to take back the cage, but with a grin and a repetition
of the hard breathing, the fellow drew it farther away.
There was again the rustling of the newspaper. A moment after, the
proprietor was heard to rise, and then he jerked himself into the shop,
to attend to the customer.
Patty, glad to get away, hurried into the back room, when a sharp piece
of bargaining ensued between customer and dealer, ending, as might have
been foreseen, in the former finding all possible fault, and then
declining to purchase, as he went outside to stand staring heavily
through the window, ostensibly at its contents, but really to see if
Patty returned.
Volume 1, Chapter XIV.