[Illustration]
Whenever I forgot to put the matches in my pocket on leaving the
chambers, I used to buy a box from a boy who stood at the street
corner, where the 'busses stop. He was a small boy, somewhat ragged
and occasionally a good deal splashed with mud. He was bright and
energetic, and he did a very fair trade. There was an air of complete
independence about him, which one does not often find in match-boys.
His method of recommending his wares was considerably above the
average of the peripatetic vendor; it suggested a large emporium,
plate glass, mahogany counters, and gorgeous assistants with fair hair
parted in the middle:
"Now off'rin! A unooshally lawge box of wax vestas for one penny.
Shop early and shop often. Foosees, Sir? Yessir. Part o' a bankrupt's
stock."
This was smart of him. By differing a little from the usual match-boy
manner, he attracted more attention, and grins, and coppers.
One morning I had climbed up to the top of the 'bus and taken my seat,
when I saw that the boy had followed me.
"No use," I said; "I don't want any this morning."
"Well, I ain't sellin' none this mornin', Sir. I'm goin' a ride on
this 'ere 'buss. My wife's got the carridge hout in the Park; so I'm
druv to takin' busses--same as you, Sir." He took the seat next to
mine, and added seriously, "I expecks as you ain't likely to be buyin'
no more matches from me."
"Why, WILLIAM?"
"My name is REGGERNULD, Sir. Yer see, I'm movin' inter other premises,
as yer might say. I've give up my stand at yon corner." He jerked his
thumb in the direction of it.
"What's that for?"
"Oh--well--nothin'. Some of 'em think I'm a fool for doin' it. The
fac' was--I couldn't quite git on with my comp'ny there?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that other boy what come last Toosday, and started sellin'
pipers at my corner. You don't know 'oo 'e is, p'r'aps, nor 'oo I
am." I did not know, and I was very willing to get the story out of
REGINALD.
"Well, I come o' pretty mod'rately 'spectable folks, I do; and I ain't
goin' to chum up with no thieves' sons an' as like as not thieves
theirselves. No thankyer. Them Board Schools is a deal too mixed.
Thet's 'ow I come to know about thet boy. 'Is father 'ad a barrer,
thet were what _'is_ father did for a livelihood, an' 'is mother were
up afore the beaks for poppin' shirts what she'd took in to wash.
Well, I ain't one to brag, but my father were a 'air-dresser's
assistant in Pimlico. Pretty well up, too, 'e was. The way 'e'd shive
yer were sutthin' to see. Shivin'? Yer couldn't call it shivin'; it
were gen'us, thet's what it were. Speccilation rooined 'im. 'E stawted
a small plice of 'is own, and bust. Then 'e took to the turf, and bust
agin. Then Mother begun dress-mikin' and there weren't no dress-mikin'
to be 'ad; so that bust. We was unfortnit. Heve'rythin' as we touched
bust. But we never run no barrers, an' we never was up afore no beaks,
and if there weren't such a thund'rin' lot of us, I shouldn't be doin'
this now. Anywye, I respecs myself. So I'm goin' to start a new pitch
an' chawnce it."