1 A circumstance of a truly alarming and distressing nature, to which Dashall alluded in this place, was recently made known to the public in the daily journals, and which should serve as a lesson to similar adventurers. It appeared that a young man had been induced to enter a house of ill fame in Charles Street, Covent Garden, by one of its cyprian inmates, to whom he gave some money in order for her to provide them with supper; that, upon her return, he desired to have the difference between what he had given and what she had expended returned to him, which being peremptorily refused, he determined to leave the house. On descending the stair-case for which purpose, he was met by some men, with whom he had a violent struggle to escape; they beat and bruised him most unmercifully, and afterwards threw him from a two-pair of stairs window into the street, where he was found by the Watchman with his skull fractured, and in a state of insensibility. We believe all attempts have hitherto proved fruitless to bring the actual perpetrator or perpetrators of this diabolical deed to punishment. 2 Bow-street.—Thursday morning an eccentric personage, who has for some time been seen about the streets of the Metropolis in the habit of a Quaker, and wearing the tri- coloured cockade in his broad white hat, made his appearance at the door of this office, and presenting a large packet to one of the officers, desired him, in a tone of authority, to lay it instantly before the Magistrate. The Magistrate (G. R. Minshull, Esq.) having perused this singular paper, inquired for the person who brought it; and in the next moment a young man, in the garb of a Quaker, with a broad- brimmed, peaceful-looking, drab-coloured beaver on his head, surmounted by a furious tri-coloured cockade, was brought before him. This strange anomalous ' personage having placed himself very carefully directly in front of the bench, smiled complacently upon his Worship, and the following laconic colloquy ensued forthwith:— Magistrate—Did you bring this letter? Quaker—Thou hast said it. Magistrate—-What is your object in bringing it? Quaker—Merely to let thee know what is going on in the world—and, moreover, being informed that if I came to thy office, I should be taken into custody, I was desiroiis to ascertain whether that information was true. Magistrate—Then I certainly shall not gratify you by ordering you into custody. Quaker—Thou wilt do as seemeth right in thy eyes. I assure thee I have no inclination to occupy thy time longer than is profitable to us, and therefore I will retire whenever thou shalt signify that my stay is unpleasant to thee. Magistrate—Why do you wear your hat?—are you a Quaker? Quaker—Thou sayest it—but that is not my sole motive for wearing it. To be plain with thee, I wear it because I chose to do so. Canst thee tell me of any law which compels me to take it off? Magistrate—I'll tell you what, friend, I would seriously recommend you to retire from this place as speedily as possible. Quaker—I take thy advice—farewell. Thus ended this comical conversation, and the eccentric friend immediately departed in peace. The brother of the above person attended at the office on Saturday, and stated that the Quaker is insane, that he was proprietor of an extensive farm near Ryegate, in Surrey, for some years; but that in May last his bodily health being impaired, he was confined for some time, and on his recovery it was found that his intellects were affected, and he was put under restraint, but recovered. Some time since he absconded from Ryegate, and his friends were unable to discover him, until they saw the account of his eccen- tricities in the newspapers. Mr. Squire was desirous, if he made his appearance again at the office, he should be detained. The Magistrate, as a cause for the detention of the Quaker, swore the brother to these facts. About three o'clock the Quaker walked up Bow-street, when an officer conducted him to the presence of the Magistrate, who detained him, and at seven o'clock delivered him into the care of his brother.
very quietly walking with a Police Officer, and exhibiting a caricature of himself mounted on a velocipede, and riding over corruption, &c. It was soon ascertained that he had accepted an invitation from one of the Magistrates of Bow Street to pay him a visit, as he had done the day before, and was at that moment going before him.
“I apprehend he is a little cracked,” said Tom; “but however that may be, he is a very harmless sort of person. But come, we have other game in view, and our way lies in a different direction to his.”
“Clothes, Sir, any clothes to-day?” said an importunate young fellow at the corner of one of the courts, who at the same time almost obstructed their passage.
Making their way as quickly as they could from this very pressing personage, who invited them to walk in.
“This,” said Tom, “is what we generally call a Barker. I believe the title originated with the Brokers in Moor-fields, where men of this description parade in the fronts of their employers' houses, incessantly pressing the passengers to walk in and buy household furniture, as they do clothes in Rosemary Lane, Seven Dials, Field Lane, Houndsditch, and several other parts of the town. Ladies' dresses also used to be barked in Cranbourn Alley and the neighbourhood of Leicester Fields; however, the nuisance has latterly in some measure abated. The Shop-women in that part content themselves now-a-days by merely inviting strangers to look at their goods; but Barkers are still to be found, stationed at the doors of Mock Auctions, who induce company to assemble, by bawling “Walk in, the auction is now on,” or “Just going to begin.” Of these mock auctions, there have been many opened of an evening, under the imposing glare of brilliant gas lights, which throws an unusual degree of lustre upon the articles put up for sale. It is not however very difficult to distinguish them from the real ones, notwithstanding they assume all the exterior appearances of genuineness, even up to advertisements in the newspapers, purporting to be held in the house of a person lately gone away under embarrassed circumstances, or deceased. They are denominated Mock Auctions, because no real intention exists on the part of the sellers to dispose of their articles under a certain price previously fixed upon, which, although it may not be high, is invariably more than they are actually worth: besides which, they may be easily discovered by the anxiety they evince to show the goods to strangers at
the moment they enter, never failing to bestow over-strained panegyrics upon every lot they put up, and asking repeatedly—“What shall we say for this article? a better cannot be produced;” and promising, if not approved of when purchased, to change it. The Auctioneer has a language suited to all companies, and, according to his view of a customer, can occasionally jest, bully, or perplex him into a purchase.—“The goods must be sold at what they will fetch;” and he declares (notwithstanding among his confederates, who stand by as bidders, they are run up beyond the real value, in order to catch a flat,) that “the present bidding can never have paid the manufacturer for his labour.”
In such places, various articles of silver, plate, glass and household furniture are exposed to sale, but generally made up of damaged materials, and slight workmanship of little intrinsic value, for the self-same purpose as the Razor-seller states—
“Friend, (cried the Razor-man) I'm no knave; As for the razors you have bought, Upon my soul! I never thought That they would shave.” “Not shave!” quoth Hodge, with wond'ring eyes, And voice not much unlike an Indian yell; “What were they made for then, you dog?” he cries. “Made! (quoth the fellow with a smile) to sell.”
Passing the end of White Horse Yard—“Here,” continued Tom, “in this yard and the various courts and alleys which lead into it, reside numerous Girls in the very lowest state of prostitution; and it is dangerous even in the day time to pass their habitations, at all events very dangerous to enter any one of them. Do you see the crowd of squalid, half-clad and half-starved creatures that surround the old woman at the corner?—Observe, that young thing without a stocking is stealing along with a bottle in one hand and a gown in the other; she is going to put the latter up the spout{1} with her