This screen conceals the automaton figures that are set in motion by the man in charge. Sometimes there is a hurdy gurdy, or hand organ, attached, and while the exhibitor turns a crank to allow the spectators to look at the revolving pictures of the "Capture of the Malakoff," the "Death of Nelson," "Napoleon at Waterloo," or some other historic picture, the hurdy gurdy will play "Old Dog Tray," "The Lancashire Lass," or some other popular ditty. Representations of the most horrible murders, or executions of well known criminals, are much relished by the London mobs, and are well patronized. One of these men told me that he was accustomed to take three and four shillings on Saturday nights in Farringdon market or the New Cut, while during the week he might not make four shillings altogether.
STREET ACROBATS.
Street acrobats, or posturers, are often met with in London. They are to be found usually in streets which have one end closed, or near the river. Thus the traffic is not impeded, owing to the absence of vehicles; and a street like those which run off the Strand toward the river will be quiet as the grave all day long until near the dusk, when all at once, as if by magic, a curious crowd of men, women, and children will collect around a man and boy or boys, who will in the most business like fashion proceed to divest themselves of their outward clothing, which of course is of a rather shabby kind, and in a few moments they will appear in all the glory of flesh-colored tights, just as they may be seen standing in the sawdust of a circus arena. Their foreheads are glorious with silver tinsel or silk ribbon fillets, their loins girt with strips of velvet, and their whole rig of a theatrical character. Some of the children are really handsome, and most exquisitely shaped, the results of athletic exercise and free fresh air. But the men, poor devils, have all of them a haggard, worn, fretful look, with hollowed cheek and straggling gray hair.
Having placed a piece of carpet, rather threadbare in appearance, in the middle of the street, after selecting the cleanest spot for it, these fellows (who are soon in the centre of a ring of people, from whom coppers are collected while the acrobats are bounding in air), go to work, and for half an hour will amaze, delight, edify, and instruct the grown children, larking street boys, and nursery maids of the neighborhood, and having collected perhaps ten pence or a shilling, they will gather up the carpet, don their sober, shabby garments, and find another quarter to do their trapeze, pyramid, and dancing feats.
Nearly all these street acrobats are bruised, or are in some way injured, and many die young from falls.
Occasionally they will disappear from the crowded London streets, in search of a scanty existence in some miserable provincial barn of a theatre or music hall, and years may perhaps elapse before their pinched cheeks and hungry eyes will again be encountered in the shabby chop houses and dark, lanes of London. Six shillings a week is as much as these poor wanderers, soiled by the glare of tallow candles in crazy barns and sheds, can expect to make in the provincial towns and villages. Therefore London, with all its misery, is very dear to them, for with much less toil and labor they can realize twelve to fifteen shillings per week in the Capital.
PUNCH AND JUDY SHOW.
But the great and lasting attraction among the multifarious street scenes of London, is the Punch and Judy show, the delight of joyous children, of the rich and poor, whether in Belgravia or St. Giles. And indeed, Punch and Judy shows reap more profit in a poor and squalid district than they will in the aristocratic quarters.
