“It was at the time of the Shibition year (1851) as these gangs come up. There was lots of boys that came out sweeping, and that’s how they picked up the tumbling off me, seeing me do it up in the Park, going along to the Shibition.
“The crossing at St. Martin’s Church was mine fust of all; and when the other lads come to it I didn’t take no heed of ’em—only for that I’d have been a bright boy by now, but they carnied me over like; for when I tried to turn ’em off they’d say, in a carnying way, ‘Oh, let us stay on,’ so I never took no heed of ’em.
“There was about thirteen of ’em in my gang at that time.
“They made me cap’an over the lot—I suppose because they thought I was the best tumbler of ’em. They obeyed me a little. If I told ’em not to go to any gentleman, they wouldn’t, and leave him to me. There was only one feller as used to give me a share of his money, and that was for larning him to tumble—he’d give a penny or twopence, just as he yearnt a little or a lot. I taught ’em all to tumble, and we used to do it near the crossing, and at night along the streets.
“We used to be sometimes together of a day, some a-running after one gentleman, and some after another; but we seldom kept together more than three or four at a time.
“I was the fust to introduce tumbling backards, and I’m proud of it—yes, sir, I’m proud of it. There’s another little chap as I’m larning to do it; but he ain’t got strength enough in his arms like. (‘Ah!’ exclaimed a lad in the room, ‘he is a one to tumble, is Johnny—go along the streets like anythink.’)
“He is the King of the Tumblers,” continued Gander—“King, and I’m Cap’an.”
The old grandmother here joined in. “He was taught by a furreign gintleman, sir, whose wife rode at a circus. He used to come here twice a-day and give him lessons in this here very room, sir. That’s how he got it, sir.”
“Ah,” added another lad, in an admiring tone, “see him and the Goose have a race! Away they goes, but Jacky will leave him a mile behind.”
The history then continued:—“People liked the tumbling backards and forards, and it got a good bit of money at fust, but they is getting tired with it, and I’m growing too hold, I fancy. It hurt me awful at fust. I tried it fust under a railway arch of the Blackwall Railway; and when I goes backards, I thought it’d cut my head open. It hurts me if I’ve got a thin cap on.