Cuts belonging to York Cries. | ||
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Appended are the words to many of the foregoing Cries.
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The Italian Basket Seller.
Ventured across the main behold, “Buy Baskets,” solemn Face, He sells for Lust of Naughty Gold, Which is a Common Case. Mend old Pans and Kettles, O! (Peaseholme Green Postern) Hark! who is this, the Tinker Bold, To mend or spoil you Kettle, Whose wife, I’m certain is a Scold, Made up of base metal. Buy my Clocks and Weather Glasses! Buy Shirt Hand Buttons! (Walmgate Bar) “If I’d as much money as I could tell; I never would cry young lambs to sell.” (Thursday Market) “Buy my Anchovies. Buy my nice Anchovies.” |
Sweep Your Chimney Clean, O!
With drawling tone, Brush under arm, And Bag slung o’er his shoulder, Behold the Sweep, the Streets alarm, With Stentor’s voice and louder. Come Buy My Nice Muffins. Hot Muffins and Crumpets too, For Breakfast and for Tea; I’ve only a very few left, In Basket as you may see. Buy Banbury Cakes! By fortune’s frown, You see this needy man, Along the street and up and down Is selling all he can. Cockles Alive, Alive, O! Behold Poor James at York again, His Cockles all alive, O! Alive, Alive, he cries amain, Come buy that he may thrive, O! |
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“Buy my fine Larks.” (Catching Larks) “Sixpence a Score Oysters.” (Ouse Bridge) “Come Buy my Roasting Spits.” “Rabbits! Rabbits!” “Buy my fine Writing Ink.” “The City Bellman.” (Hay Weigh) “Buy my Cranberries, fine Cranberries.” “Sweet China Oranges.” (Pavement) |
“Buy my Capers. Buy my nice Capers, Capers.” “Buy my nice Banbury Cakes.” “Buy my Windmills, a halfpenny-a-piece.” (Monk Bar) “Fine Kidney Potatoes.” “Threepence a Mart Ripe Gooseberries.” “Come buy a true Calendar.” (Castle Gates) “Razors, Knives, and Scissors to grind.” “Acomb Sand.” “Race Lists.” |
The Cries of York is distinctly different from The Cries of London issued by Kendrew though the same set of Cuts are utilized.
London Street Cries have always had a fascination peculiarly their own. Madame Vestris used to bring down the house with “Cherry Ripe,” and where are happier efforts of the favourite home Artists than “London Cries” by A. Morland, Wheatley, Stodhard, and others, which are so eagerly sought after by connoiseurs? The pretty plaintive Cries too, would we had the ‘music’ to them, so familiar in the streets in those charming old English days.
