They had no occasion to repent of their movements; for in one corner of the tap-room sat Billy Waters, a well-known character about town, a Black Man with a wooden leg was fiddling to a Slaughterman from Fleet-market, in wooden shoes, who, deck'd with all the paraphernalia of his occupation, a greasy jacket and night-cap, an apron besmeared with mud, blood, and grease, nearly an inch thick, and a leathern girdle, from which was suspended a case to hold his knives, and his sleeves tuck'd up as if he had but just left the slaughter-house, was dancing in the centre to the infinite amusement of the company, which consisted of an old woman with periwinkles and crabs for sale in a basket—a porter with his knot upon the table—a dustman with his broad-flapped hat, and his bell by his side—an Irish hodman—and two poor girls, who appeared to be greatly taken with the black fiddler, whose head was decorated with an oil-skinned cock'd hat, and a profusion of many coloured feathers: on the other side of the room sat a young man of shabby-genteel appearance, reading the newspaper with close attention, and purring forth volumes of smoke. Limping Billy and Mother Mapps were immediately known, and room was made for their accommodation, while the fiddler's elbow and the slaughterman's wooden shoes were kept in motion.
Max{l} was the order of the day, and the sluicery{2} in good request. Mother Mapps was made easy by being informed the Street-keeper had her valuables in charge, which Limping Billy promised he would redeem. “Bring us a
1 Max—A very common term for gin. 2 Sluicery—A gin-shop or public-house: so denominated from the lower orders of society sluicing their throats as it were with gin, and probably derived from the old song entitled “The Christening of Little Joey,” formerly sung by Jemmy Dodd, of facetious memory. “And when they had sluiced their gobs With striving to excel wit, The lads began to hang their nobs,*
* Nobs—Heads. ** Frows—Originally a Dutch word, meaning wives, or girls. *** Velvet—The tongue.
noggin of white tape,{1} and fill me a pipe,” said he—“d——n my eyes, I knowed as how it vou'd be all right enough, I never gets in no rows whatever without getting myself out again—come, ould chap,{2} vet your vistle, and tip it us rum—go it my kiddy, that are's just vat I likes.”
“Vat's the reason I an't to have a pipe?” said Mother Mapps.
“Lord bless your heart,” said the Donkey-driver, “if I did'nt forget you, never trust me—here, Landlord, a pipe for this here Lady.”
“Which way did the bull run?” said the Irishman.
“Bl——st me if I know,” replied Limping Billy, “for I was a looking out for my own ass—let's have the Sprig of Shelalah, ould Blackymoor—come, tune up.”