A little farther on is a long barrow covered with toys; and a tall man without a nose, shouts at intervals, "Only a penny each! only a penny each!" Some of these gimcracks excite astonishment by their extreme cheapness; but they are chiefly made by the convicts in Holland, and are exported in large quantities to England.
In the middle of the road a man with stentorian voice offers "A hundred songs for a penny;" and, enumerating the list, he is sure to announce the "Return of the Hadmiral" amongst the rest.
Nearly opposite the Victoria Theatre there is an extensive cook's-shop; and around the window stands a hungry crowd feasting their eyes on the massive joints which are intended to feast the stomach.
In front of the butchers' shops the serving-men keep up a perpetual vociferation of "Buy! buy!"—a sort of running fire that denotes the earnestness with which competition is carried on amongst rivals in that delectable trade.
Perhaps a new baker's shop is opened in the New Cut; and then a large placard at the window announces that "a glass of gin will be given to every purchaser of a quartern loaf." The buyers do not pause to reflect that the price of the cordial is deducted from the weight of the bread.
The pawnbrokers' shops seem to drive a most bustling trade in the New Cut; and the fronts of their establishments present a more extensive and miscellaneous assortment of second-hand garments, blankets, handkerchiefs, and sheets, than is to be seen elsewhere.
The influx and efflux of people at the public-houses and gin-shops constitute not the least remarkable feature of that neighbourhood, where every thing is dirty and squalid, yet where every one appears able to purchase intoxicating liquor!
On the southern side of the New Cut there are a great many second-hand furniture shops, the sheds wherein the articles are principally exposed being built against the houses in a fashion which gives the whole, when viewed by the glaring of the gas-lights, the appearance of a bazaar or fair.
The New Cut is always crowded; but the multitude is not entirely in motion. Knots of men congregate here, and groups of women there—the posts at the corners of the alleys and courts, or the doors of the gin-shops, being the most favourite points of such assembly.
The edges of the pathways are not completely devoted to provision dealers. Penny peep-shows, emblazoned with a coloured drawing representing the last horrible murder,—itinerant quacks with "certain remedies for the toothache,"—stalls covered with odd numbers of cheap periodical publications,—old women seated on stools, behind little trays containing combs, papers of needles, reels of cotton, pack-thread, stay-laces, bobbin, and such-like articles,—men with cutlery to sell, and who flourish in their hands small knives with innumerable blades sticking out like the quills on a porcupine,—these are also prominent features in that strange market.