Of the Street-sellers of Conundrums.
Among the more modern street sales are “conundrums,” generally vended, both in the shops and the streets, as “Nuts to Crack,” when not in the form of books. This is another of the “broad-sheets,” and is sufficiently clever and curious in its way.
In the centre, at the top, is the “Wonderful Picture,” with the following description: “This Picture when looked at from a particular point of view, will not only appear perfect in all respects and free from distortion, but the figures will actually appear to stand out in relief from the paper.” The wonderful picture, which is a rude imitation of a similar toy picture sold in a box, “with eye-piece complete,” at the shops, presents a distorted view of a church-spire, a light-house, a donjon-keep, castellated buildings backed by mountains, a moat on which are two vessels, an arch surmounted by a Britannia, a palm-tree (I presume), and a rampart, or pier, or something that way, on which are depicted two figures, with the gestures of elocutionists. The buildings are elongated, like shadows at sunset or sunrise. What may be the “particular point of view” announced in the description of the Wonderful Picture, is not described in the “Nuts,” but the following explanation is given in a little book, published simultaneously, and entitled, “The Nutcrackers, a Key to Nuts to Crack, or Enigmatical Repository:”
“The Wonderful Picture.—Cut out a piece of cardboard 2½ inches long, make a round hole about the size of a pea in the top of it; place this level with the right-hand side of the Engraving and just 1½ inches distant from it, then apply your eye to the little hole and look at the picture, and you will find that a beautiful symmetry pervades the landscape, there is not the slightest appearance of distortion, and the different parts appear actually to stand up in relief on the paper.”
Below the “Wonderful Picture” are other illustrations; and the border of the broad-sheet presents a series of what may be called pictorial engravings. The first is,
The answer being evidently “Diocese.” No. 26 is
“Pinafore” is the solution. Of the next “hieroglyphic”—for a second title to the “Nuts” tells of “200 Hieroglyphics, Enigmas, Conundrums, Curious Puzzles, and other Ingenious Devices,”—I cannot speak very highly. It consists of “AIMER,” (a figure of a hare at full speed,) and “EKA.” Answer.—“America.”
In the body of the broad-sheet are the Enigmas, &c., announced; of each of which I give a specimen, to show the nature of this street performance or entertainment. Enigma 107 is—
“I’ve got no wings, yet in the air
I often rise and fall;
I’ve got no feet, yet clogs I wear,
And shoes, and boots, and all.”
As the answer is foot-ball, the two last lines should manifestly have been placed first.
The “Conundrums” are next in the arrangement, and I cite one of them:
“Why are there, strictly speaking, only 325 days in the year?”
“Because,” is the reply, “forty of them are lent and never returned.” The “Riddles” follow in this portion of the “Nuts to Crack.” Of these, one is not very difficult to be solved, though it is distinguished for the usual grammatical confusion of tenses:
“A man has three daughters, and each of these have a brother. How many children had he?”
The “Charades” complete the series. Of these I select one of the best:
“I am a word of letters seven,
I’m sinful in the sight of heaven,
To every virtue I’m opposed,
Man’s weary life I’ve often closed.
If to me you prefix two letters more,
I mean exactly what I meant before.”
The other parts of the letter-press consist of “Anagrams,” “Transpositions,” &c.
When a clever patterer “works conundrums”—for the trade is in the hands of the pattering class—he selects what he may consider the best, and reads or repeats them in the street, sometimes with and sometimes without the answer. But he does not cripple the probable quickness of his sale by a slavish adherence to what is in type. He puts the matter, as it were, personally. “What gentleman is it,” one man told me he would ask, “in this street, that has—
‘Eyes like saucers, a back like a box,
A nose like a pen-knife, and a voice like a fox?’
You can learn for a penny. Or sometimes I’ll go on with the patter, thus,” he continued, “What lady is it that we have all seen, and who can say truly—
‘I am brighter than day, I am swifter than light,
And stronger than all the momentum of might?’
More than once people have sung out ‘the Queen,’ for they seem to think that the momentum of might couldn’t fit any one else. It’s ‘thought’ as is the answer, but it wouldn’t do to let people think it’s anything of the sort. It must seem to fit somebody. If I see a tailor’s name on a door, as soon as I’ve passed the corner of the street, and sometimes in the same street, I’ve asked—
‘Why is Mr. So-and-so, the busy tailor of this (or the next street) never at home?’
‘Because he’s always cutting out.’ I have the same questions for other tradesmen, and for gentlemen and ladies in this neighbourhood, and no gammon. All for a penny. Nuts to Crack, a penny. A pair of Nutcrackers to crack ’em, only one penny.”
Sometimes this man, who perhaps is the smartest in the trade, will take a bolder flight still, and when he knows the residence of any professional or public man, he will, if the allusion be complimentary, announce his name, or—if there be any satire—indicate by a motion of the head, or a gesture of the hand, the direction of his residence. My ingenuous, and certainly ingenious, informant obliged me with a few instances:—“In Whitechapel parish I’ve said—it ain’t in the print, it was only in the patter—‘Why won’t the Reverend Mr. Champneys lay up treasures on earth?’—‘Because he’d rather lay up treasures in heaven.’ That’s the reverend gentleman not far from this spot; but in this sheet—with nearly 100 engravings by the first artists, only a penny—I have other questions for other parsons, not so easy answered; nuts as is hard to crack. ‘Why is the Reverend Mr. Popjoy,’ or the Honourable Lawyer Bully, or Judge Wiggem,—and then I just jerks my thumb, sir, if it’s where I know or think such people live—‘Why is the Reverend Mr. Popjoy (or the others) like two balloons, one in the air to the east, and the ’tother in the air to the west, in this parish of St. George’s, Hanover-square?’ There’s no such question, and as it’s a sort of a ‘cock,’ of course there’s no answer. I don’t know one. But a gentleman’s servant once sung out: ‘’Cause he’s uppish.’ And a man in a leather apron once said: ‘He’s a raising the wind,’ which was nonsense. But I like that sort of interruption, and have said—‘You’ll not find that answer in the Nutcrackers,’ only a penny—and, Lord knows, I told the truth when I said so, and it helps the sale. No fear of any one’s finding out all what’s in the sheet before I’m out of the ‘drag.’ Not a bit. And you must admit that any way it’s a cheap pennorth.” That it is a cheap harmless pennyworth is undeniable.
The street-sale of conundrums is carried on most extensively during a week or two before Christmas; and on summer evenings, when the day’s work is, or ought to be, over even among the operatives of the slop employers. As the conundrum patterer requires an audience, he works the quieter streets, preferring such as have no horse-thoroughfare—as in some of the approaches from the direction of Golden-square to Regent-street. The trade is irregularly pursued, none following it all the year; and from the best information I could acquire, it appears that fifteen men may be computed as working conundrums for two months throughout the twelve, and clearing 10s. 6d. weekly, per individual. The cost of the “Nuts to Crack” (when new) is 5d. a doz. to the seller; but old “Nuts” often answer the purpose of the street-seller, and may be had for about half the price; the cost of the “Nut-crackers” 2s. to 2s. 6d. It may be calculated, then, that to realize the 10s. 6d., 15s. must be taken. This shows the street expenditure in “Nuts to Crack” and “Nut-crackers” to be 90l. yearly.
Of the Street-sellers of Comic Exhibitions, Magical Delusions, &c.
The street sale of “Comic Exhibitions” (properly so called) is, of course, as modern as the last autumn and winter; and it is somewhat curious that the sale of any humorous, or meant to be humorous sheet of engravings, is now becoming very generally known in the street sale as a “Comic Exhibition.” Among these—as I have before intimated—are many caricatures of the Pope, the Church of Rome, Cardinal Wiseman, the Church of England, the Bishop of London (or any bishop or dignitary), or of any characteristic of the conflicting creeds. In many of these, John Bull figures personally, and so does the devil.
The Comic Exhibition (proper) is certainly a very cheap pennyworth. No. 1 is entitled, “The Ceremonial of the Opening of the Great Exhibition, in 1851, with Illustrations of the Contributions of All Nations.” The “contributions,” however, are reserved for Nos. 2 and 3. Two larger “cuts,” at the head of the broad-sheet, may be considered geographical, as regards the first, and allegorical as regards the second. “Table Bay” presents a huge feeder (evidently), and the “Cape of Good Hope” is a spare man obsequiously bowing to the table and its guest in good hope of a dinner. Of the Sandwich Islands and of Hung(a)ry, the “exhibition” is of the same description. The second larger cut shows the Crystal Palace ascending by the agency of a balloon, a host of people of all countries looking on. Then comes the “Procession from Palace-yard to Hyde Park.” The first figure in this procession is described as “Beefeaters piping hot and well puffed out,” though there is but one beefeater, with head larger than his body and legs ridiculously small, (as have nearly all the sequent figures), smoking a pipe as if it were a trombone, duly followed by “Her Majesty’s Spiritual Body-guard” (five beefeaters, drunk), and by “Prince Albert blowing his own trumpet” (from the back of a very sorry steed), with “Mops and brooms,” and a “Cook-oo” (a housemaid and cook) as his supporters. Then follow figures, grotesque enough, of which the titles convey the character: “A famous Well-in-Town;” “Nae Peer-ye;” “Humorous Estimates” (Mr. Hume); “A Jew-d’ esprit” (Mr. D’Israeli); “An exemplification of Cupidity in Pummicestone” (Lord Palmerston); “Old Geese” and “Young Ducks” (old and angry-looking and young and pretty women); “Some gentlemen who patronise Moses in the Minories” (certainly no credit to the skill of a tailor); “A Jew Lion” (M. Jullien); “Fine high screams” (ice-creams) and “Capers” (chorister boys and ballet-girls); “Hey-day, you don’t take advantage here” (Joseph Ady); and “Something to give the milk a head” (a man with a horse’s head on a tray). These, however, are but a portion of the figures. The Comic Exhibition-sheet contains ninety such figures, independent of those in the two cuts mentioned as headings.
“Galleries of Comicalities,” or series of figures sometimes satirically, sometimes grotesquely given without any aim at satire, are also sold by the same parties, and are often announced as a “Threepenny gallery for a penny!—and dirt cheap at threepence. As big as a newspaper.”
Another broad-sheet sold this winter in the streets is entitled, “Optical and Magical Delusions,” and was announced as “Dedicated to and Prepared for his Royal Highness the Prince of Wales—the only original copy.” The engravings are six in number, and are in three rows, each accompanying engraving being reversed from its fellow: where the head is erect on one side, it is downward on the other. The first figure is a short length of a very plain woman, while on the opposite side is that of a very plain man, both pleased and smirking in accordance with a line below: “O what joy when our lips shall meet!” “Cat-a-gorical” is a spectacled and hooded cat. “Dog-matical” is a dog with the hat, wig, and cane once held proper to a physician. “Cross purposes” is an austere lady in a monster cap, while her opposite husband is pointing bitterly to a long bill. The purport of these figures is shown in the following
“DIRECTIONS—Paste all over the Back of the sheet, and put a piece of thick paper between, to stiffen it, then fold it down the centre, so that the marginal lines fall exactly at the back of each other, (which may be ascertained by holding it to the light)—press it quite flat—when cut separate they will make three cards—shave them close to the margin—then take a needlefull of double thread and pass it through the dot at each end of the card; cut the thread off about three inches long. By twisting the threads between your fore fingers and thumbs, so as to spin the card round backwards and forwards with a rapid motion, the figures will appear to connect and form a pleasing delusion.”
Then there are the “Magical Figures,” or rude street imitations of Dr. Paris’ ingenious toy, called the “Thaumascope.” Beside these are what at the first glance appear mere black, and very black, marks, defining no object; but a closer examination shows the outlines of a face, or of a face and figure. Of such there are sometimes four on a broad-sheet, but they are also sold separately, both in the streets and the small stationers’ shops. When the white or black portion of the paper is cut away (for both colours are so prepared), what remains, by a disposition of the light, throws a huge shadow of a grotesque figure on the wall, which may be increased or diminished according to the motions of the exhibitor. The shadow-figures sold this winter by one of my informants were of Mr. and Mrs. Manning, the Queen, Prince Albert, the Princess Royal, and the Prince of Wales; “but you see, sir,” observed the man, “the Queen and the Prince does for any father and mother—for she hasn’t her crown on—and the Queen’s kids for anybody’s kids.”
I mention these matters more particularly, as it certainly shows something of a change in the winter-evenings’ amusements of the children of the working-classes. The principal street customers for these penny papers were mechanics, who bought them on their way home for the amusement of their families. Boys, however, bought almost as many.
The sale of these papers is carried on by the same men as I have described working conundrums. A superior patterer, of course, shows that his magical delusions and magical figures combine all the wonders of the magic lantern and the dissolving views, “and all for one penny.” The trade is carried on only for a short time in the winter as regards the magical portion; and I am informed that, including the “Comic Exhibitions,” it extends to about half of the sum taken for conundrums, or to about 45l.