Hitherto he had been in the habit of working a single section of town until it was exhausted, and then taking up another. But one July morning the head of the firm asked him if he could vary the plan and take the pick of several districts in one day as an experiment. This was done to test Short’s capacity as against that of an English-speaking German traveller, a protégé of his partner, who had already tried his best by train and ’bus to cover a large area in one day, but had blundered over the job. Ben Short, who had noticed a “foreigner” hanging about the place a good deal, drew his own conclusions therefrom, and promptly acquiesced in the proposition, and replied that he was quite willing to show how much could be done in twelve hours by one who knew his London well and how best to make use of its locomotive facilities. Ben intended to make a record!
To save time he took home with him from the sample-room his bag, an inconspicuous, well-worn old companion. It was easily carried, as the contents, though valuable, were light. Next morning at 7.30 to the minute he was at breakfast, clean as a new pin, thoroughly well groomed, a man of peace, but if you had put your hand into the side pocket of his coat you would have found a smooth ivory handle, suspiciously like that of a neat six-shooter—in case of accidents! At eight o’clock he was in a comfortable electric tram bound on his first stage to far-off Hammersmith.
The route was viâ Stamford Hill, High Street, Stoke Newington Road, and Kingsland Road, and, branching off at Hackney Road, by way of Old Street and Clerkenwell Road, to the western end of Theobald’s Road. Thence, a long stretch by way of Hart Street, Bloomsbury, along part of New Oxford Street, into Oxford Street, past the Marble Arch, along the Uxbridge Road, past Notting Hill Gate, and down the beautifully paved, broad incline towards Shepherd’s Bush, then to the left through Brook Green, and so to the Broadway, Hammersmith—one of the most interesting rides in London, and but recently added to the London County Council system, after tremendous agitation and opposition on the part of the “Tube” and others, but absolutely necessary to complete the linking of other and disjointed sections.
Here, at Hammersmith, Ben Short transacted some very satisfactory business in King Street. It was early; his “clients” had just finished their breakfasts, their shops had been but a few minutes opened, and they had leisure to attend to his persuasive arguments. He was a favourite wherever he went, and as he carried exactly the kind of goods to attract, he quickly booked orders and was free to proceed.
On board once more, at good speed Ben was rolled along Fulham Road, leaving on the right the big convent jealously guarded by high walls, which made Ben fall to wondering how any sane young woman could voluntarily cut herself off from a world about which she probably knew practically nothing. On went the tram, past the big buildings of the Fulham Workhouse, past the entrance to Fulham Palace and the Bishop’s Park, along the widened High Street of Fulham, over Putney Bridge, and by way of Putney Bridge Road and West Hill, Wandsworth (a new route), to Lower Tooting—altogether a pleasant trip at that time of the year, for gardens, at which he critically and eagerly gazed, greeted Ben in every direction.
Wasting no time, Short called upon all the most likely customers, and again he was in luck, for whether they wanted watches and jewellery or not, orders were booked.
Now the energetic little man had to get to the “Elephant and Castle.” Along the Balham Hill Road, with its pleasant shops and lively pedestrians, was plain sailing enough, past umbrageous Clapham Common on the left, edged with sedate and comfortable mansions recalling the old days when prosperous Evangelicism dwelt exclusively in Clapham; then by way of Clapham Road and Kennington Park Road to the far-famed “Elephant and Castle.” Here a less sharp-witted man than Short might well be bewildered by the wonderful concentration of tram lines converging from Walworth Road, New Kent Road, Newington Causeway, London Road, St. George’s Road, and the road he had come by. Here, if anywhere, as at the Mansion House, well-arranged passenger subways are needed.
Our “commercial” did much business round about, for it was one of his best districts for cheap goods, and then he thought it was time to refresh the inner man. In a neighbouring cool, clean little crib—“a close borough of his own,” he called it—he rested, and made intimate acquaintance with a noble piece of silver-side, some crisp lettuces, and any amount of piccalilli—he was a lover of cold meat and pickles—but, in accordance with a rule he never broke in business hours, he restricted himself to coffee as a beverage.
Short, braced up by his luncheon, was now ready to set out for the wilds of Plumstead—a somewhat long journey. He started by train from the “Elephant and Castle” viâ the New and the Old Kent Roads, New Cross Road, Greenwich Road, Trafalgar Road, Greenwich and Woolwich Lower Roads to Woolwich, and by the Plumstead Road to Plumstead itself. He worked the two districts together, but his luck had deserted him, and orders were fewer and farther between than he altogether liked; but he was not going to “chuck the thing up” yet. He would do a bit of the East End, and thus complete the circuit of London.
He took the same route back from Plumstead as far as Blackwall Lane, then viâ the Blackwall Tunnel to East India Dock Road, Burdett Road, and Mile End Road to its junction with Cambridge Road. In this neighbourhood he did his only extensive bit of walking. The district, though poor, was large, and he did a fair amount of business, but as time was getting on he decided to return home; so by Cambridge Road, along Cambridge Heath, Mare Street, Lower and Upper Clapton Roads, he got back to Stamford Hill, and was put down almost at his own house.