Old London Cries, No. II.
“Sixpence a pound, fair cherries!”
“Troop, every one!”
Old London Cries, No. II.
We have here a [print] of the cherry-woman of a hundred years ago, when cherries were so little grown, that the popular street cry was double the price of the present day. Readers of the Every-Day Book may remember the engraving of the “London barrow-woman,” with her cherry-cry—“round and sound”—the cherry-woman (that was) of our own times—the recollection of whose fine person, and melodious voice, must recur to every one who saw and heard her—a real picture to the mind’s eye, discoursing “most excellent music.”
The man blowing a trumpet, “Troop, every one!” was a street seller of hobby-horses—toys for the children of a hundred years ago. He carried them, as represented in the [engraving], arranged in a partitioned frame on his shoulder, and to each horse’s head was a small flag with two bills attached. The crier and his ware are wholly extinct. Now-a-days we give a boy the first stick at hand to thrust between his legs as a Bucephalus—the shadow of a shade:—our forefathers were better natured, for they presented him with something of the semblance of the generous animal. Is a horse now less popular with boys than then? or did they, at that time, rather imitate the galloping of the real hobby-horse in the pageants and mummeries that passed along the streets, or pranced in the shows at fairs and on the stage? Be that as it may, this is a pretty plaything for “little master;” and toymakers would find account in reviving the manufacture for the rising generation. They have improved the little girl’s doll, and baby-house: are they ignorant that boys, as soon as they can walk, demand a whip and a horse?