“These men,” said Dashall, “are generally an industrious and hard-living people; they walk many miles in the course of a day to find sale for their images, which they will rather sell at any price than carry back with them at night; and it is really wonderful how they can make a living by their traffic.”
“Ha, ha, ha,” said a coarse spoken fellow following—“how the Jarman Duck diddled the Dandies just now—did you twig how he queered the coves out of seven bob for what was not worth thrums.{1} The Yelper{2} did his duty well, and finger'd the white wool{3} in good style. I'm d———d if he was not up to slum, and he whiddied their wattles with the velvet, and floored the town toddlers easy enough.”
“How do you mean?” said his companion.
“Why you know that foreign blade is an ould tyke about this quarter, and makes a good deal of money—many a twelver{4} does he get by buying up broken images of persons who sell them by wholesale, and he of course gets them for little or nothing: then what does he do but dresses out his board, to give them the best appearance he can, and toddles into the streets, touting{5} for a good customer. The first genteel bit of flash he meets that he thinks will dub up the possibles,{6} he dashes down the board, breaks all the broken heads, and appeals in a pitiful way for remuneration for his loss; so that nine times out of ten he gets some Johnny-raw or other to stump up the rubbish.”
“Zounds!” said Dashall, “these fellows are smoking us; and, in the midst of my instructions to guard you against the abuses of the Metropolis, we have ourselves become the dupes of an impostor.”
1 Thrums—A flash term for threepence. 2 The Yelper—A common term given to a poor fellow subject, who makes very pitiful lamentations on the most trifling accidents. 3 White wool—Silver. 4 Twelver—A shilling. 5 Touting—Is to be upon the sharp look out. 6 To dub up the possibles—To stand the nonsense—are nearly synonimous, and mean—will pay up any demand rather than be detained.
“Well,” said Tallyho, “it is no more than a practical illustration of your own observation, that it is scarcely possible for any person to be at all times secure from the arts and contrivances of your ingenious friends the Londoners; though I confess I was little in expectation of finding you, as an old practitioner, so easily let in.”
“It is not much to be wondered at,” continued Tom, “for here we are in the midst of the very persons whose occupations, if such they may be termed, ought most to be avoided; for Covent Garden, and Drury Lane, with their neighbourhoods, are at all times infested with swindlers, sharpers, whores, thieves, and depredators of all descriptions, for ever on the look out. It is not long since a man was thrown from a two-pair of stairs window in Charles Street,{1} which is just by, having been decoyed into a house of ill fame by a Cyprian, and this in a situation within sight of the very Police Office itself in Bow Street!”
“Huzza! ha, ha, ha, there he goes,” vociferated by a variety of voices, now called their attention, and put an end to their conversation; and the appearance of a large concourse of people running up Drury Lane, engrossed their notice as they approached the other end of Russel Court.
On coming up with the crowd, they found the cause of the vast assemblage of persons to be no other than a Quaker{2} decorated with a tri-coloured cockade, who was