Memoirs of a London doll

by R. H. Horne

I felt that I should not remain long with the old Jew, because he would soon sell me. The very next day he actually did sell me, and my purchaser was an Italian organ-boy.

This boy had been used to carrying a monkey about on the top of his organ, who sat there in a red jacket and soldier’s cap, and made faces, while the boy’s little sister went round to collect halfpence in a tambourine. This poor little monkey had caught a very bad cold, by being out in the rain one night, and had died; and the Italian boy had come to the Jew, to know if he would buy it to stuff for a glass case. The old Jew considered a long while, and then said he could give no money for the poor little pug, but he would give him something that would be better for him, because it would help him to make money. So saying, he offered me to the boy, in exchange for the monkey. The Italian boy hesitated at first; he said he wanted a little money. But his sister exclaiming, ‘Oh, do, brother, let us have the doll!’ he consented; and fitting on me the red jacket, he stuck me upon the top of the organ, and off we went into the street, to the tune of ‘I’d be a butterfly!’ which he immediately began to play.

We went through many streets, playing various tunes by the way, and getting many pennies and halfpennies, until we arrived at Guildhall, when Brigitta (that was the little girl’s name) said she wanted to run in and show me two very large dolls indeed, called Gog and Magog. ‘So do,’ said her brother (whose name was Marco), ‘and while you go I’ll play the tune I think Gog and Magog would like best;’ and he immediately began once more to play ‘I’d be a butterfly!’

Off We Went to the Tune of “I’d be a Butterfly.”

We ran in and saw the great ugly things. Oh, they were such great dolls! and it was such a large room! Out ran Brigitta again, and we went to the Mansion-house and played ‘Sweet home,’—in the middle of which a fat gentleman, who had just come out of a pastry-cook’s, put a slice of plum-cake into Brigitta’s tambourine. We then went and played ‘Cherry ripe’ in front of the Monument, but we did not play long, as Brigitta got frightened; it looked so high she was afraid it would tumble down and spoil Dolly. We next went and played in front of the London tavern, in Bishopsgate Street; but there happened to be a great ‘public dinner’ going on, so one of the waiters told us to go away, as there was an alderman just then making a ‘speech,’ and we disturbed him; so we walked slowly away, playing, ‘They’re all nodding.’

We now went to St. Paul’s churchyard and played the ‘Old Hundredth Psalm,’ and ‘God save the Queen,’ and ‘Cherry ripe.’ I never saw anything before or since that looked so great to me as St. Paul’s, for although there was a most beautiful doll-shop within sight, I could not help looking all the time at the great building.

After this, as we had made one shilling and sevenpence in the course of the day, we went home to Marco’s lodgings. He had a little room behind the back kitchen of a cobbler’s house in the neighborhood of London bridge. Brigitta placed me on a straw mattress up in one corner, and then took out two plates and a mug without a handle from a cupboard in the wall, and Marco then laid upon the plate several things to eat, which he had bought on their way home, among which I saw something that looked very much like an ounce of sugar candy, besides the piece of plum-cake that had been put into Brigitta’s tambourine. They were very merry over their supper. Then Marco, who was very tired from having carried the organ about all day, fell fast asleep, and Brigitta presently took out from a little bundle several pieces of bright scarlet and green stuff, and, in the neatest manner possible, began to make me a very pretty dress, just like the one she had on herself. I was very glad of this, for I did not at all like being dressed like the monkey. She was a very pretty little girl of about nine years of age, with a dark brown complexion and red lips, and large black eyes, and long, black, glossy, curling hair.

I passed several weeks with this merry little mamma, who was always laughing, or chattering, or playing the tambourine and collecting halfpence in it, or dancing me about, except when I sat upon the organ in the place of the monkey. I saw a great deal of London by this means, but more particularly of the City, as far as from Temple Bar to the Thames Tunnel, because Marco knew a great many houses where there were children who liked to hear the organ, and he and his sister generally visited each house about once a week.