Hawthorn and Lavender | Page 7

as he wears?His old-world armours; and with his port and pride,?His sturdy graces and enormous airs,?He towers, in speech his Colonel countrified,
A triumph, waxing statelier year by year,?Of British blood, and bone, and beef, and beer.
III. HAWKER
Far out of bounds he's figured--in a race?Of West-End traffic pitching to his loss.?But if you'd see him in his proper place,?Making the _browns_ for _bub_ and _grub_ and _doss_,?Go East among the merchants and their men,?And where the press is noisiest, and the tides?Of trade run highest and widest, there and then?You shall behold him, edging with equal strides?Along the kerb; hawking in either hand?Some artful nothing made of twine and tin,?Cardboard and foil and bits of rubber band:?Some penn'orth of wit-in-fact that, with a grin,
The careful City marvels at, and buys?For nurselings in the Suburbs to despise!
IV. BEEF-EATER
His beat lies knee-high through a dust of story--?A dust of terror and torture, grief and crime;?Ghosts that are _ENGLAND'S_ wonder, and shame, and glory?Throng where he walks, an antic of old time;?A sense of long immedicable tears?Were ever with him, could his ears but heed;?The stern _Hic Jacets_ of our bloodiest years?Are for his reading, had he eyes to read,?But here, where _CROOKBACK_ raged, and _CRANMER_ trimmed,?And _MORE_ and _STRAFFORD_ faced the axe's proving,?He shows that Crown the desperate Colonel nimmed,?Or simply keeps the Country Cousin moving,
Or stays such Cockney pencillers as would shame?The wall where some dead Queen hath traced her name.
V. SANDWICH-MAN
An ill March noon; the flagstones gray with dust;?An all-round east wind volleying straws and grit;?_ST. MARTIN'S STEPS_, where every venomous gust?Lingers to buffet, or sneap, the passing cit;?And in the gutter, squelching a rotten boot,?Draped in a wrap that, modish ten-year syne,?Partners, obscene with sweat and grease and soot,?A horrible hat, that once was just as fine;?The drunkard's mouth a-wash for something drinkable,?The drunkard's eye alert for casual _toppers_,?The drunkard's neck stooped to a lot scarce thinkable,?A living, crawling blazoning of Hot-Coppers,
He trails his mildews towards a Kingdom-Come?Compact of _sausage-and-mash_ and _two-o'-rum_!
VI. 'LIZA
_'LIZA'S old man_'s perhaps a little _shady_,?_'LIZA'S old woman_'s prone to _booze_ and cringe;?But _'LIZA_ deems herself _a perfect lady_,?And proves it in her feathers and her fringe.?For _'LIZA_ has a _bloke_ her heart to cheer,?With _pearlies_ and a _barrer_ and a _jack_,?So all the vegetables of the year?Are duly represented on her back.?Her boots are sacrifices to her hats,?Which knock you speechless--_like a load of bricks_!?Her summer velvets dazzle _WANSTEAD FLATS_,?And cost, at times, a good eighteen-and-six.
Withal, outside the gay and giddy whirl,?_'LIZA'S_ a stupid, straight, hard-working girl.
VII. 'LADY'
Time, the old humourist, has a trick to-day?Of moving landmarks and of levelling down,?Till into Town the Suburbs edge their way,?And in the Suburbs you may scent the Town.?With _MOUNT ST._ thus approaching _MUSWELL HILL_,?And _CLAPHAM COMMON_ marching with the _MILE_,?You get a _HAMMERSMITH_ that _fills the bill_,?A _HAMPSTEAD_ with a serious sense of style.?So this fair creature, pictured in _THE ROW_,?As one of that 'gay adulterous world,' {79} whose round?Is by the _SERPENTINE_, as well would show,?And might, I deem, as readily be found
On _STREATHAM'S HILL_, or _WIMBLEDON'S_, or where?Brixtonian kitchens lard the late-dining air.
VIII. BLUECOAT BOY
So went our boys when _EDWARD SIXTH_, the King,?Chartered _CHRIST'S HOSPITAL_, and died. And so?Full fifteen generations in a string?Of heirs to his bequest have had to go.?Thus _CAMDEN_ showed, and _BARNES_, and _STILLING-FLEET_,?And _RICHARDSON_, that bade our _LOVELACE_ be;?The little _ELIA_ thus in _NEWGATE STREET_;?Thus to his _GENEVIEVE_ young _S. T. C._?With thousands else that, wandering up and down,?Quaint, privileged, liked and reputed well,?Made the great School a part of _LONDON TOWN_?Patent as _PAUL'S_ and vital as _BOW BELL_:
The old School nearing exile, day by day,?To certain clay-lands somewhere _HORSHAM_ way.
IX. MOUNTED POLICE
Army Reserve; a worshipper of _BOBS_,?With whom he stripped the smock from _CANDAHAR_;?Neat as his mount, that neatest among cobs;?Whenever pageants pass, or meetings are,?He moves conspicuous, vigilant, severe,?With his Light Cavalry hand and seat and look,?A living type of Order, in whose sphere?Is room for neither _Hooligan_ nor _Hook_.?For in his shadow, wheresoe'er he ride,?Paces, all eye and hardihood and grip,?The dreaded _Crusher_, might in his every stride?And right materialized girt at his hip;
And they, that shake to see these twain go by,?Feel that the _Tec_, that plain-clothes Terror, is nigh.
X. NEWS-BOY
Take any station, pavement, circus, corner,?Where men their styles of print may call or choose,?And there--ten times more _on it_ than _JACK HORNER_--?There shall you find him swathed in sheets of news.?Nothing can stay the placing of his wares--?Not bus, nor cab, nor dray! The very _Slop_,?That imp of power, is powerless! Ever he dares,?And, daring, lands his public neck and crop.?Even the many-tortured London ear,?The much-enduring, loathes his _Speeshul_ yell,?His shriek of _Winnur_! But his dart and leer?And poise are irresistible. _PALL MALL_
Joys in him, and _MILE END_; for his vocation?Is to purvey the stuff of