"Valk hup and try this ere de-lee-shus bewerage, honly tuppence a bottle. If ye don't like it I gives ye yer money back, and no 'arm done. The Prinse of Vales alvays buys 'is beer hof me ven 'e isnt travelin, for the good of 'is 'ealth. Valk hup and don't be ashamed; the no-bil-e-tee and gen-te-ree hall patronizes me. Ginger-beer, ginger-beer, and may the best man win, as my vife says, ven she sees two pickpockets a fightin' for a shillin'."
"Trick-hat-the-loop, ring the nail, and ye gets three h'apens. Ring the nail and ye gets three h'apens. And 'ow much does ye hinvest. Vy honly ha'apenny. A man von two hundred pun hof me last veek, and there 'e his just now agoin to bet hit all on the Hoxford crew, and ef ye don't believe me just hax 'im 'isself," said a seedy looking wretch, with a handful of small iron rings in his hand, directing his index finger to some indistinct personage in the crowd, whom no one present could recognize.
The number of apple, pear, goosberry, plum, pie, and ice-cream stands that line the path are almost incalculable to think of. Pies square, round, and triangular of shape, in all the varied stages of decay, are for sale at a penny a piece. Tarts, cheese cakes, mutton pot-pies, ham pies, suet puddings, whelks, a sort of odorous shell-fish, at half-penny apiece, green gages, and "sandviches" are shouted on every side of us.
There are all kinds of games in progress. There is the ancient and honorable game of "cockshie," and "cocoa-nut." The latter is curious. Three cocoa-nuts, hollowed out, are placed on the top of as many sticks, which are stuck upright in the ground, and the game, costing a penny, is to knock off those cocoa-nuts at three strokes, when you can claim three pence—providing, of course, that you knock off all three cocoa-nuts; which, of course, can only be done by the princely proprietor himself after hard training.
There is one noisy fellow on a little hillock, pockmarked and ferret-eyed, in a greasy woolen duster, who has drawn a large crowd around him by his peculiar and quack-like oratory. This fellow is a gem, in his way, of purest ray serene. He is a merchant of penny scarf and finger rings.
"Now," says he, elevating a scarf ring on one finger and a wedding ring on another, in sight of the wondering crowd, "hif hi was to tell you good people that these beuty-fool rings wor pure goold, vot vould you say? Vy, you vould say, in the most hexitibel and hunmistakabel langvidge has could come from your blessed traps, 'ee his a harrant himposter.
"Could hi blame yer for hexpressing yer feelinks in sich langvidge? No. Hi vould say to my disturbed conscience, has was at that very moment a tearing my hinsides to pieces, 'you, Villiam Bowsley, have forsaken the good karraktir has was 'anded down to yer by hancestors who 'ad their hown hestates, 'osses, and kerridges; Villiam Bowsley, you 'ave been han harrant himpostor, and deserves to be 'ung.' Vell, does I tell ye that these ere rings is goold? No; on the contreery, I says they are brass. Vell, may be ye don't care so much for brass harticles. Ham hi a friend of brass? No, agin. But I ham a friend of Hart. I asks ye to look at this ere image of Mr. Gladstun, as is now hour blessed Pri-meer. Wos hever anything so beau-ty-fool? Look at the insinivatin smile on 'is sveet feetyures. Ven I last dined vith Mr. Gladstun—ye needn't laff, cos ye knows, perhaps, the story in the Good Book of the bad children 'oo chaffed the old Profits and wus heat hup by bares—ven I last dined vith Gladstun, hour blessed Pri-meer, he says, 'Bill'—he calls me 'Bill' ven 'ee his friendly—'Bill, them pictures on them ere kam-e-o-s as you sells is my likeness just like twins. Cos, vy,' said he, 'my maiden haunt reckignized them, and fainted avay ven she seed vun.'"
Passing along a few feet I am attracted by the noise of a loud, rough voice, that is shouting over the thickly packed heads of another crowd:
"Step hup gentlemen and take a look hat the noble hart of Self-Defence has his practised in the Royal Tent. This vay gentlemen, honly tuppens. Brisket Bill and the 'Ackney Vick Cove is a goin' to set-too. Step hup."
THE BOXING TENT.