There is a difference between a Tyburn-gate official, and a promiscuous sojourner, who guards the pass of a new, lone road, through which scarcely a roadster trots. The cockney keeper of cockney riders, is rarely without “short cut” and the “ready” in word and deed. In his short-pocketed white apron he stands defiance, and seems to say, “Who cares?” His knowing wink to the elastic arm of the coachee, which indicates the “all right!” has much meaning in it. His twirl of the sixpence on his thumb nail, and rattle of “coppers” for “small change,” prove his knowledge of exchange and the world.
The pikeman out of town is allowed a scrap of garden-ground, which he sedulously cultivates. In town, he has not the liberty of a back door—to be acquainted with his boundaries, you need only look at the “Farthing pie gate” for an example. He may be sometimes seen in a chair, in front of his domicile, making remarks on “men and manners.” His name hangs on a thread over his door: if he is an honest man, equestrians will appreciate his merits, and do well if they imitate his philosophy.
J. R. P.
[480] The original “Jack in the Box,” with the nutmeg-grater at the bottom, has disappeared with its contemporary, the “Horn Alphabet,” to the no small loss of all good young people.
Contented in my little house,
On every call I wait
To take the toll: to ope and shut
The five-barr’d turnpike gate.
Rustic Friend.