it.-'- >\— ,^^ THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES & y /p*?j GEORDIE PURDIE IN LONDON; OR THE Adventures of a Fifeshireman in the Metropolis. By DANIEL GORRIE, AUTHOR OF "SUMMERS AND WINTERS IN THE ORKNEYS, ETC., ETC. EDINBURGH PUBLISHING COMPANY. LONDON : HOULSTON AND SONS. King Duncan. -Whence cam'st thou, worthy Thane? Rosse.— From Fife, great King. Macbeth. ? R PREFACE. Q The contents of this little book may be regarded as compounded, in unequal parts, of fact and fiction. The unsophisticated hero himself is a veteran reality, still living in the quiet Fifeshire village to which I have given the name of Kilpirnie, and not unlikely to be rather surprised when he reads in these chapters the account of his adventures in the metropolis, though some of the incidents must be fresh in his memory. One of my earliest recollections of Geordie Purdie is associated with the first visit of the Queen and Prince Consort to Scotland in 1842. On that memorable and joyous occasion he was the driver of a long harvest-cart, with cross-seat, which conveyed a family party, of whom I formed a little unit, from the village of Kilpirnie, in Fifeshire, to the village of Dron, in Perthshire, where it was thought a good view could be obtained of the royal cortege passing along the high road en route to Dupplin Castle and the Fair City of Perth. When we arrived at the end of our sixteen miles' journey, we found the road lined on both sides, all the way from Glenfarg, with carts and other curricles, and the utmost enthusiasm rampant among the country 1524229 iv PREFACE. people, who had come from far and near to give a right loyal welcome to the young Queen and her Consort. The heat and dust of the long drive had made Purdie fancy that his face was not in a fit condition to be seen by the illustrious sovereign of these realms ; and accord- ingly, divested of coat and waistcoat, and with shirt sleeves uprolled, he was busily occupied at his ablutions over a horse-pail, in the rear of one of the lines of vehicles, when the sound of cheers coming nearer and growing louder, like the inrushing tide, announced the rapid approach of the royal cavalcade. Without waiting to rub his face dry or pull down his sleeves, Geordie ran to the cart with his coat and vest under his arm, and remained in this state of dishabille till the imposing pageant went clattering past. Soon as the dust raised by the yeomen escort had cleared away, he uplifted his bare arms, and exclaimed, " Hech me ! an' that's the Queen ! " — evidently indicating by his tone of surprise that he had expected to see her Majesty wearing on her head, not a simple summer bonnet, but her regal crown of gems and gold. The Fife dialect — which I have done my best to re- produce in reporting Purdie's phrases and narratives — is the broadest in " braid Scotland." While the Aberdonian speaks about beets and sheen, meesic and breets, the Fifeshire- man comes out with a great mouthful, and gives you bides and shilne, music and brides — the u sounding like the German oe, as in Goethe. The Fife folk — to quote an expression of a Newhaven fisherman — take a good " grup o' the words wi' their tongues;" while the Aberdonians, on the other hand, seem only to use the tips of their PREFACE. v tonsrue and their teeth. Mr Valentine, an Aberdeen editor, gives this sample of the Aberdonian dialect — " Fa fifppit the weeftte fulpy ? " — a question that would puzzle the half of Scotland, and all the rest of the world. The same words in the Fife dialect would be — " Wha whitppit the wee white whulp ?" — (Anglice, Who whipped the little white whelp?") To an almost similar extent the Fife speech differs from the sharp dialects of Edin- burgh and Glasgow. An Edinburgh gamin will say — '• Johnnie, where are ye gam?" and this, translated into the Fife vernacular, would be, "Jock, whaur are ye gaun?" It is Purdie's exceeding breadth of speech that makes him so racy of the soil. It may be as well to state that, in one of the chapters, I have anticipated a projected street improvement by running a tramway car along Newington Butts in front of Mr Spurgeon's Tabernacle; but as the narrative is already admitted to be largely fictitious, I may claim in this instance the usual privilege of the romancist, who adapts everything to the exigencies of his story or plot. D. G. Loughborough Park, Brixton, October 1873. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. PACE. Waiting for the Train — an " Auld Acquaintance " — Purdie and the Porter — "This beats a' !" — Stroll out of the Station — At the Bar of the Blue Boar — En route to Battersea i CHAPTER II. Reminiscences of Purdie — A New Year Time Courting Adventure — Geordie at No. 8—" Lost Himself !" n CHAPTER III. Purdie tells his own Tale— Match-box Boy's Pranks— " Water-Cresses ! " —On Chelsea Suspension Bridge — Among Thieves and Thimbleriggers, 18 CHAPTER IV. Purdie continues his Story — In a Cab with Card-Sharpers — Neddy Ockum gets a Squeeze — Cab and Crockery Donkey-Cart Collision — One for Cribbage— Mrs Odgers comes to the Rescue 29 CHAPTER V. Fife Fare at Gladstone Row— Village Characters— Lowrie Lumsden and the Earthquake— The Street Musicians and the Stilt-Girl— A Shindy- Singing Sambo in Trouble, 3*> CHAPTER VL Battersea Park on Sunday— Purdie " Toggers Himself up "—Going to the Zoo— Dangers of the Streets— On the Tramway Car — Street Scenes- Drivers' Squabbles— The Elephant and Castle— A Conductor's Wink, . 49 CHAPTER VII. Fisticuff Fight on Westminster Bridge— Purdie breaks up the Ring— The Tidal Mystery of the Thames— Little Blue-Jacket's Flight— Big Ben- Passing the Lifeguardsmen at Whitehall— In Trafalgar Square, . . 60 viii CONTENTS. CHAPTER VIII. Seven Dials — Following the Fire Engines — Geordie in High Feather — German Tourists— " What's your wull?"— Tip-Cat— Dolly Vardens in the Tramway Car— Camden Town and Mother Red Cap— Anecdote of Purdie, 7 2 CHAPTER IX. In the Zoo — Purdie's Impressions of Feeding-Time— The Dancing-Bear— A Shower-Bath from the Sea-Lion — Meeting of two Fifers— Kiffy Cairns, • ^3 CHAPTER X. The Monkey-House — Theft of Purdie's Snuff-Box by a Monkey— Scene in the Cage— Uses of Tails— The Feathered Flesh-Eaters— Purchase of Plums at an Open-Air Buffet— Primrose Hill— Among Parrots and Cockatoos, 94 CHAPTER XI. The Upper Classes of the Zoo— " An awfu' Beast "—Feeding the Elephant —Monsieur Obaysch and Madame Adhela— A Ride on old Jumbo's Back— Escape of the Chimpanzee and his clever Capture, . . .107 CHAPTER XII. The Regent's Park Fountain— On the Underground Railway— " Stop Thief! Stop Thief !"— Tragedy in the Train at Gower Street— Purdie Travelling First-Class— Night-side of London— Back to Battersea— Davy Mathieson I2 ° CHAPTER XIII. Captain Inkster of the "Betsy Jane" and his Mate— Purdie's " Ploom- Puddin' "—Hot Tripe Supper— Toddy and Talk— Anecdotes about the Kilpirnie Gravedigger— Geordie in good Trim— Daft Peter Prodger— Au Revoir, « 28 CHAPTER XIV. Another Night at Gladstone Row— A Game at Draughts— Purdie's Visit to the Dock Wine- Vaults— Real Havannas — On Board a River Steamer —Collision at Greenwich— Geordie and the Woolwich Arsenal Police- man—Greenwich Touters— At the Observatory— Adventure in the Park, 136 CHAPTER XV. Drive to Sydenham in a Two-Horse Drag— The Sham Cripple— in the Crystal Palace— Ascent of the North Tower— -Geordie describes the Aquarium and the Harvest Fete— Children's Choir on the Handel Orchestra— Cribbage and Ockum again— Return Drive— Purdie goes Home by Sea, '5 1 GEORDIE PURDIE IN LONDON. CHAPTER I. WAITING FOR THE TRAIN — AN "AULD ACQUAINTANCE" — PURDIE AND THE PORTER — "THIS BEATS A'!" — STROLL OUT OF THE STATION — AT THE BAR OF THE BLUE BOAR — E?l route TO BATTERSEA. One fine September morning I was at the King's Cross terminus of the Great Northern Railway, waiting the arrival of the Scotch train, in the expectation of meeting an old friend who had written to say that he intended going to Wiltshire to take part in the autumn manoeuvres with the Edinburgh contingent of Rifle Volunteers. The train happened to be a very heavy one with two engines, and as an accident befell one of the two not far from Newcastle, I had to hang about the station for some two hours or more, glad to learn, however, from an official, that nothing worse than the detention had occurred. There was no lack of company on the long platform, an unusual number of people being present for much the same purpose as myself, and a good deal of excitement prevailed on account of the delay in the arrival of the train. A 2 GEORDIE PURDIE IN LONDON. The patience of the expectant crowd was at last re- warded by the approach of the belated train, which dragged its slow length alongside the platform, and before the carriages had come to a full stop the Volunteers and other passengers were tumbling out in eager haste. Then followed the scene of bustle and animation customary on such occasions — the eager quest after luggage disgorged from the guard's vans, the rushing to and fro of unpro- tected females, the shouting of stentorian voices for hansoms and cabs. Commercial travellers, returning to head-quarters from their rounds in the North, were among the first as usual to gather their traps together, call cabs, and go rattling out of the station. But the Scottish Volunteers, who had been quite knocked out of time by the detention, and who had a long march before them to their next train, displayed equal alacrity in forming up, and I was afraid that I would miss the chance of seeing the friend in uniform whom I had gone to meet. Eagerly I scanned the faces of my countrymen as they mustered for their march by way of Euston Road. Oxford Street, and Hyde Park, and great was my disappointment on learning from one of their number that something had occurred, at the eleventh hour, to prevent my friend accompanying the contingent. Just as I was about quitting the station, somewhat dis- gusted as well as disappointed that I had waited so long to so little purpose, my ear caught the sound of a strong, hard voice indignantly expostulating, in the broadest of broad Scotch — the once to me familiar dialect of Fife- shire — with another voice, which only responded, at irregular intervals, in seeming perplexity and wonderment. On turning round in the direction from which the sounds PL A TFORM ALEE TING. 3 proceeded, 1 saw a man of decidedly unsophisticated appearance, who might be sixty years old, or thereabouts - — the very beau-ideal 'of a Fifeshire villager in his chimney- pot hat and old fashioned, high-collared Sunday swallow- tailed coat — standing angrily and defiantly in front of a railway porter, who grasped the handle of a blue-painted box, which he seemed bent on pulling away. This movement my fellow-countryman appeared just as deter- mined to resist, and on going nearer them for the purpose of trying to act the part of pacificator, I was more than astonished to recognise in the heated face of the home- spun traveller the familiar features of Geordie Purdie, one of the best-known characters in my native village. He was a hand-loom weaver in my schoolboy days, but he was never much in the habit of sticking close to his occu- pation indoors in the summer months, as he was a good jobbing gardener, and preferred doing " orra-wark " in the open air to treading the treddles and driving the jerking shuttle monotonously to and fro all day long. From the healthy brown hue on his high cheek bones, I could gather that he had been doing little in the weaving line of late, and suddenly recollected that the erection of power-loom factories must have revolutionised the linen manufacture in Fife. But of Geordie and his antecedents more anon ; it is time to disentangle him from the King's Cross railway porter. The lapse of years had changed my appearance so completely since we had last seen each other, that I knew he would have some difficulty in recognising me, and so I at once stepped forward, addressing him by name, mentioning my own, and holding out my hand, which soon received, after the first keen look of incredulity, a 4 GEQRDIE PURDJE IN LONDON. long and hearty, not to say violent, shake. The smile, or rather grin, of satisfaction which overspread his berry- brown face gathered, as of old, into crow's-feet wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. " Wha would hae thocht," exclaimed Geordie, " to meet a hame-freend here in Lunnon, in the very nick o' time whun he is needed maist ? That pock-puddin' chield there," he added, again lowering his brows, and pointing to the porter, who still retained hold of the handle of the box, " that pock-puddin' chield there says it's no my kist or luggage, as he ca's it, because the direction has been torn aff, maybe by himsei', and he has the face to tell me that there's nae proof it's my property." " The box has a padlock," I remarked, addressing the porter, " and the possession of the key must be held a good proof of ownership." " The key — od, I forgot a' aboot that," said Geordie, fumbling in his trousers pocket. " Here it is, and ye'll sune see whether it will fit the lock or no." Kneeling down on the platform, he applied the key to the lock; but before turning it, he said to the porter, "I can tell ye noo, whun we hae a witness here, some o' the things that are inside the box, though I wasna fule eneugh to do that whun there was naebody here forbye yersel' and me. My dochter, sir," he continued, looking up now in my face, and holding the unturned key between his forefinger and thumb, " gied me a sair accoont, whun she wrote asking me up, aboot the prices o' vegetables and siclike in Lunnon, and so I thocht the wisest thing I could do was to tak alang wi' me a gude pickle o' tatties, collifiours, and ingans, twa or three pecks o' aitmeal for parritch and cakes, some jargonelle pears and coddlin' A BOX-SEAT. 5 aipples, forbye sarks for my ain wear, an' presents o' duds for my dochter's twa bairns." Geordie then turned the key, undid the padlock, up- lifted the lid, and exposed to view, with a confident air, the contents of his box, which quite corresponded with his description. The porter seemed satisfied at last that it was all right, though I am confident that he did not understand one word of the inventory, which was given off in the broadest Fifeshire vernacular. As for Geordie himself, he was so mighty well pleased at having been able to save his " kist " from seizure and spoliation, that he dumped down upon the lid with a contented " pech," and dived into his vest-pocket for his tin snuff-box, from which he fed his nose in rapid succession with three small spoonfuls of brown Taddy, making a considerable amount of noise in the process. I noticed that the bone " snuff-pen " or nose-spoon which he used was the very same one — only a little yellower in hue — that had nour- ished his nose some twenty years before. The discolor- ation on his upper lip marked him out as an inveterate snuffer, just as the ruddy glow of his torch-like nose betrays the confirmed brandy-drinker at kirk or market. Seated comfortably on his box, though somewhat jaded by his long and unusual journey, Geordie composed himself for a"twa-handed crack," and told me what had brought him up to London. His only daughter, who had married some years ago the mate of a vessel that traded between the Thames and the Mediterranean, lived in Battersea, on the Surrey side of the river, and she had pressed her father to come up on a visit, though it should only be for a week or two, at a time when she expected her husband, Davy Mathieson, to be at home. 6 GEORDIE PURDTE IN LONDON. Geordie, much as he desired to see his daughter again, could hardly abide the thought at first of undertaking a journey of upwards of four hundred miles. It was not the expense that "fleyed" him, as he had managed to save a little money notwithstanding his indulgence in snuff, but the mere idea of going so far away from his native village of Kilpirnie, whose slate-roofed, red-tiled, and thatch-roofed houses seem to separate the inhabi- tants, like railway carriages, into first class, second class, and third class. All his life before lie had never been further from his home than Edinburgh, and that only once, when there was a holiday excursion " across the water," the day after the annual fair. London also, from what he had heard, was a dreadful city, bigger than Babylon of old, in which strangers from the country like himself ran daily or hourly risks of being lost, run down, robbed, mobbed, and even murdered. However, he at last yielded to the urgent entreaty of his daughter, backed by the sage counsels of some fellow-villagers, who told him that he should not lose such a good chance of seeing a bit of the world ; and his first acquaintance with the great city began, as we have just seen, in the attempt of a railway porter to bamboozle him about the ownership of his box. On hearing that Geordie had come up to town by invitation, I thought it rather odd that neither his daughter nor son-in-law should be waiting for him on the Great Northern platform, especially as he had to change to the Victoria branch of the London, Chatham, and Dover Railway before reaching Battersea. It occurred to me that, owing to the accident which had befallen the train, and the uncertainty as to the time of its arrival, " THIS BEATS A /" 7 they had perhaps taken a stroll out of the station along the Pentonville Road, leading to Islington, and I pro- posed that we should have a look in that direction, although Geordie might have a difficulty in picking them up on the crowded and unfamiliar streets. To this he was quite agreeable, but cast down a wistful glance at the box on which he still remained seated, with his tin snuff-box in the one hand and his snuff-pen in the other, in readiness for one pinch more before he rose. How- ever, I soon satisfied all his scruples on this head by getting it properly addressed and labelled, and con- signed to the Left Luggage Office until our return to the station. At King's Cross the meeting of several thoroughfares causes a great rush and rattle of wheeled traffic, and poor Geordie seemed almost dumfoundered when he emerged from the station gates. " This beats a' ! " he exclaimed, holding up his brown and horny hands in utter amazement. There are some fastidious people who would not much relish walking along the streets in the company of a countrified-looking personage like Geordie Purdie, but very little courage is really required for an effort of the kind. In London foot-passengers are all so intent on their special business, or so accustomed to varieties of street sights, that it needs great eccentricity or outreness of external appearance to attract their attention. A woman tall in stature, fantastic in dress, and wild in mien, like Meg Merrilies, might be stared at and chaffed by the Cockneys at a safe distance, but my honest, awkward, wondering " auld acquaintance " drew almost as few eyes upon him as if he had been climbing up the slopes of 8 GEORDIE PURDIE IN LONDON. the Lomond Hills. Perhaps a passing hatter would cast a furtive smiling glance at his narrow-brimmed, high- crowned chimney-pot, or an h-la-mode tailor, catching the cut of the country coat with the tail of his eye, would at once set it down as half-a-century out of date, and an interesting relic of the Georgian era : but that would be all ; and neither of us could be any the worse for causing a transitory twitch to pass across the lips of two respect- able and observant tradesmen. My sole concern was — from the sample already given on emerging from the station-gates — that Geordie, whose voice is pretty high- pitched at all times, would give his astonishment vent in exclamations loud enough to let pickpockets understand that he was fresh from the country, and therefore fair game. After walking some distance along Pentonville Road, I saw that there was little chance of Geordie picking out his daughter or son-in-law among the foot-passengers, as he was too much occupied looking at the great, high- piled, broad-wheeled waggons, as they went thundering past at the clattering heels of teams of heavy horses. "There's nae mercy shown here to the brute crea- tion," he said. " Look at that hang-dog callant in the sack short-goon, makin' furs on his mare's hurdies wi' his muckle brass-munted whup-haunle. Gin I could only get at the side o' his lug ! " Perhaps he might have made the attempt, and got himself into a scrape, but we were just passing at the time the door of the refreshment-bar of the Blue Boar, which has a brazen boar's-head above the entrance, and I took Geordie by the arm, leading him inside to the counter, glittering with well-polished taps. THE BAR OF THE BLUE BOAR. 9 On finding where he was, he gave me a queer, " pawky " look, which seemed to say, " I wonder what the folk o' Kilpirnie would think gin I tell't them ye took me intil a public wi' ye're ain haund ; but never fear, I'll no leet oot a word aboot it." I remembered enough of Geordie's habits to know that he could swig off a good glass of genuine peet- reeked whisky very sharp, and give a satisfied smack of his lips when it was gone, though the charge could never be brought against him that he was a dram-drinker, albeit heavy snuffing and drinking are frequently allied. "What will you have, Mr Purdie?" I asked, giving him his traveller's name. Mr Purdie modestly thought that " a drappie o' Scotch whusky would set him on his legs better than ony ither drink." A glass of Scotch whisky was accordingly ordered, along with a milder refresher for myself. Geordie, on being served by the ministering Hebe, who was fat, fair, and forty at least, raised the glass to his nose, smelt the liquid backwards and forwards, and all round the rim. like a pointer only half-catching the scent, and at last ventured to swallow it off, but with a wry face and sputtering lips. " It's not the real Burntisland, then ? " I said, sympa- thetically. " Na, na ; nasty stuff," responded Geordie, still sput- tering at rarer intervals ; " it's mair like vitriol and vinegar than ony ither decoction I ever tasted afore." Then eyeing the fat Hebe, landlady of the Blue Boar, who looked somewhat displeased at the dislike shown to her liquor, he added, " Hae, gudewife, there's ye'r glass i o GE ORDIE PUR DIE IN L OND ON. — if that be Scotch whusky, it mun be mixed wi' English speerits." This remark, given off with some emphasis, was suffi- ciently well understood by the customers to raise a good- humoured laugh, which so disconcerted the landlady that she turned her back upon us, and made a great jingling and jangling among some glasses, which she took angrily into her hand. So we left the Blue Boar, and walked back to the station, where neither daughter nor son-in-law had yet entered an appearance. As my own way, city-wards, lay the length of Ludgate, on the same line of railway that would take Geordie to Battersea, I got himself and box transferred to the Chatham and Dover platform, which adjoins the Great Northern. He had his son-in- law's address all right in his old leathern purse — " David Mathieson, 8 Gladstone Row, Battersea (York Road Station) " — and I gave him the exact number of stations he would pass before reaching York Road. A time-table would only have bewildered him, as it sometimes does more experienced travellers. It fortunately happened that the train into which we got was to stop at all the stations on the semi-circular line to Victoria, so that' there was little possibility of a man " with a good Scotch tongue in his head " making any mistake. I gave him instructions about calling a cab to convey himself and his precious blue box to his daughter's house ; and when we parted, with a hearty shake of the hand, at Ludgate Hill, it was under a distinct promise from me that I would not allow three days to pass before finding my way to 8 Gladstone Row, Battersea. CHAPTER II. REMINISCENCES OF PURDIE — A NEW YEAR TIME COURTING ADVENTURE — GEORDIE AT NO. 8 — "LOST HIMSELF!" I did not allow the stipulated three days to pass before paying my promised visit to Geordie at his daughter's domicile on the Surrey side of the river, which the reporters on the metropolitan press are in the habit of calling transpontine London ; but, before proceeding with my narrative, it may be as well to give a few addi- tional particulars about the home-spun native of Kilpirnie that recurred to my recollection when his back was turned. In the weaving villages of Fifeshire there is generally no lack of men capable of making shrewd remarks in their broad Doric on the events of the day; but the hero of this sketch excelled all his fellow-craftsmen in plainness and directness of speech, and ready flow of mother-wit. When anything uncommon occurred to set the hundred tongues of gossip wagging, the last racy saying of our friend Geordie was sure to pass from mouth to mouth. The loud, hearty laugh that either accompanied or followed his sallies of wit in his younger days, seemed to make them go off with all the force and effect of an electric explosion. i2 GEORDTE PURDIE IN LONDON. During the time of the Voluntary controversy, which raged more keenly in Fifeshire than in any other county in Scotland, he was a keen partisan on the dissenting side, partly probably from the circumstance that his father, old Samuel Purdie, was beadle in the then Seceder kirk of the village ; and it was told of him that, on passing the parish church one Sunday, when going to his own "meeting-house," he faced suddenly round to the obnoxious edifice, as the bray of a donkey came grating harsh discord over the green, and exclaimed, with affected astonishment, "What ! has he begun already ?" This sally, of course, was intended to apply to the minister officiating in the parish church ; and, in those happily - departed days when religious animosities ran high, it was considered to be a master-stroke of mother- wit. One other little anecdote, which I heard from the lips of the matronly lady to whom the words were addressed, may suffice as a sample of that extreme plainness or bluntness of speech which I have mentioned as one of Geordie's marked characteristics. A reasonable time after the demise of his first wife, he took a fancy to the buxom servant-maid of the Rev. John Black, Seceder minister of Kilpirnie, and carried on his second court- ship, as he had done his first, in the clandestine manner which is customary in rural villages and hamlets. In- stead of going boldly to the manse of an evening, and walking into the kitchen to have a cozy " crack " at the fireside with the comely maiden of thirty summers, who was to become his second wife, he would scramble stealthily over the garden-wall late at night, and tap at the kitchen-window when he thought all the inmates of COURTING ADVENTURE. 13 the house, except his expectant inamorata, would be snug in bed. One night, about the New Year time, when " some- thing in his head " occasioned his being less cautious than usual, he made such a loud rattling at the kitchen- window, that the minister's wife, thinking housebreakers were abroad in her husband's absence, rose in alarmed haste, threw open the window of her sleeping apartment upstairs, and exclaimed, with a shrill voice, " Who's there?" Sudden as the sound of the opening window had come upon his ears, Geordie had found time to ensconce him- self behind an evergreen bush which grew conveniently near ; but no sooner did he hear the shrill female voice, and see the gleam of the white " nicht-mutch " in the clear, frosty air, than he came forth from his hiding-place, and exclaimed — " Ou, ye needna be feared, Mrs Black ; it's naebody but me ; just gang awa' back to your bed, and pit your head on the warm cod in this cauld nicht, an' we'll say nae mair aboot it ! " * Mrs Black, recognising the familiar voice of Geordie Purdie, who sometimes did duty as beadle when old Samuel was laid up with sickness, thought it best, in the circumstances, to act upon the counsel so coolly given ; but before withdrawing her head and closing the window, she, in turn, advised the middle-aged Lothario to take himself off to his own bed. Though Geordie's second marriage was not so clandestine as his courtship, I have known happy pairs in the same village, afflicted with an excess of modesty, who would not have the nuptial knot tied till after nightfall, as they were unwilling M GEORDIE PURDTE IN LONDON. to be seen entering the manse gate in each other's company. But to proceed. On reaching York Road station, close by which stands the howling and yelling Home for Strayed Dogs, a walk of about ten minutes took me to Gladstone Row, one of those innumerable new streets that have risen like exhalations within recent years in the southern suburbs of the metropolis. The red and yellow brick two-storey houses of the Row, with bow-windows reaching almost to the ground, and small railed enclosures in front, are built only on one side of the roadway, and have a pleasant outlook into the east side of Battersea Gardens and Park. If the houses were only as sub- stantial all through as they look neat and showy out- wardly, with the contrasted colour of their bricks and their spread of green Venetians, they might form desirable places of residence for people who have larger incomes than the class to which their present inmates for the most part belong. The first assurance I received that Geordie had reached his destination in safety, was given by the sight of himself standing in his stocking-soles and bare-headed in the door-way of No. 8, leaning lazily on his left shoulder, and stuffing his " snuff-mull " into his vest pocket, after inhaling, through both nostrils, two or three of those long-drawn pine lies which, from the sense of satisfaction imprinted on his features, seemed to have a re-invigorating influence alike on his mental faculties and bodily organs. " Hoo's a' wi' ye?" was the salutation that greeted me as I advanced, holding out my hand, which once more felt itself imprisoned in the hard, horny grip that imparts a new sensation in these indifferent " How d'ye do" days. THE FR ONT PARL OUR. 15 " Come inbye," quoth Geordie, and led me into the front parlour, with the bow-window and green Venetians, which is entered from the left-hand side of the oilcloth-laid lobby, like all the other front parlours in spick-and-span new Gladstone Row. The room, I could see at a glance, afforded good indications that Geordie's son-in-law was anything but a spendthrift. He evidently had no wish to be one whit behind his English neighbours, who, even when their circumstances are humbler than his. take a pride in having at least one room of their houses present- able to visitors. The substantial circular mahogany table, standing upon a Kidderminster carpet, the chiffonier, with glass-covered ornaments, the stuff-bottomed chairs and small sofa, the gilt-mounted mirror over the mantelpiece, which glittered with shells and foreign rarities, the landscape and figure pictures on the walls, and the green flower-stand in the window-recess, with its triple row of beautifully-blossomed plants, imparted an air of well-to-do comfort, and even elegance, to the apartment. We were scarcely seated when Mrs Mathieson, a well- favoured young matron, whom I had last known as a school girl, entered the room, with one rosy " bairn " in her arms and another holding on by her morning wrap- per, which was clean and tidy. She had grown quite out of my recollection, and the only things Fifish about her were the florid healthy complexion of her round cheeks, and the native accent, racy of the soil, which no length of residence in England can ever serve wholly to eradicate. After an exchange of greetings and references to the school-days " o' auld lang syne," Mrs Mathieson apolo- gised for the non-appearance of her husband Davy, by 1 6 GEORDIE PURDIE IN LONDON. saying that he had gone to Greenwich early in the morn- ing, and she did not expect him back till late at night. Some other talk took place, and then sitting down, with the one baby-boy on her knee and the little " sonsy- faced " girl still holding on by her gown, Mrs Mathieson suddenly ejaculated, "But what d'ye think, sir? My father there, wise as he thinks himself, lost his way in coming from the station on Saturday. A porter brought his box to the door about three in the afternoon, and I was like to go demented when he said that he had directed the owner of it how to reach our house more than an hour before." "Lost himself !" I exclaimed, in astonishment, looking across the room at Geordie, who seemed half-ashamed and half-amused at the revelation now being made — " How in the world did this come about, Mrs Mathie- son ? I know he lost you and your husband at King's Cross station, as he expected you both to meet him, but you were not to be seen, and I thought when I parted with him at Ludgate Hill that I had put him beyond the possibility of making a mistake." Mrs Mathieson here explained that she and Davy had gone to meet the train at the proper time, leaving the children in the charge of their little message-girl; but that when they were told it might not arrive for three or four hours, they did not think it necessary to wait, as they supposed her father, with the address in his pocket and a " gude Scotch tongue in his head," would easily make out the rest of the journey to Battersea. She then added that he would be able to tell himself how he went so far wrong, putting them into a state of consternation. " Come along, Mr Purdie," I said, thinking it best to THE PINCH PRELIMINARY. 17 drop the too familiar name of " Geordie " in his married daughter's presence ; " let us hear the whole story of your second little adventure on the day of your arrival in London." Geordie, sitting at his ease on the sofa, with a snuffy print pocket-handkerchief depending, as if put up to dry, from his left knee, could not think of beginning without regaling his nostrils with another stiff pinch or two ; and when this process was duly finished with the usual amount of deliberation, supplemented by sundry throat- clearings, he gave us the narrative of what befell when he arrived at Battersea Station. B CHAPTER III, PURDIE TELLS HIS OWN TALE — MATCH-BOX BOY'S PRANKS — " WATER-CREESES !" — ON CHELSEA SUSPENSION BRIDGE — AMONG THIEVES AND THIMBLERIGGERS. " Weel," began Geordie, " I daursay ye'll mind fu' weel o' tellin' me that I would hae to gae bye nine stations — an' a' in ae toun, tae ! — afore I got tae York Road ; and I keepit coont, ye may be sure, as we gaed sklidderin' alang, stoppin' every noo and than ; an' at a' the stations I pat my head oot o' the window, an' couldna think eneugh that we were ridin' ower the taps o' the streets an' the chimley-heads o' a' the hooses. I was gled to see we didna gang ower the steeple-heads o' the fearfu' feck o' kirks. Weel, as I was gaun to say, I coontit the stations, an' stappit doon a' richt on the platform at York Road, Battersea, an' got my kist oot a' richt tae at the hinner- end o' the train ; but whim I tell't the porter I wanted a cab tae tak me an' the kist tae Gladstone Row, he said there wur nae cabs thereaboot, an' that he would carry the kist himsel' tae the hoose in about half-an-'oor." " ' For a consideration,' " I interjected, " as the old miserly Jew, Trapbois, used to say to Lord Glenvarloch when he was under hiding in Alsatia — the fancy name of Whitefriars." STREET ARABS. 19 " Lord Glenwarlock ! — Wha was that ? " " Oh, never mind just now — let us hear how you got on." " Got on," quoth Geordie, taking advantage of the interruption to have another refreshing pull at the mull ; " got on — I didna get on, I got aff. I wasna unco sure about leavin' the kist ahint me, but the porter looked a decenter-like buirdly chield than the ill-faured bubbly- jock at King's Cross, an' I tell't him he would get his wage for his wark when he brocht the kist tae the hoose, an' then speered at him hoo I was tae gang noo. He tuk me alang tae the end o' the wuddin shed that's no half so neat as the station-hoose at Kilpirnie, and pointed oot the road I was to tak, tellin' me just to follow my nose tae the first raw o' houses, an' I couldna gang wrang. I kent weel eneugh what he said, though he spoke rather sharp an' fast an' impident-like." " I wonder you understood each other so well," I again interjected ; " however, let us hear the story out." " Weel, oot I cam frae the station alang a gangway wi' buirds on each side, an' whun I got tae the road near a railway airch, I couldna say for the life o' me whether I should gang to the richt haund or the left ; and as I stood switherin' aboot gaun back tae the porter again, three wee ragged laddies, wi' boxes o' matches strappit roond their necks, cam' dan cin' roond me, cryin', ' Box o' lichts, sir! — box o' lichts !' In a jiffy there was ane o' them roond at my back puggin' at the neepkin that was stickin' oot o' my coat pooch. It was the first time I had been fingered by a thief, an' I gied the blackguard loon a ring i' the lug that micht hae made him greet for a week ; but he just gied a skip awa' to the middle o' the road, an' 20 GEORDIE PUR DIE IN I0ND0N. stood there, happin' first on ae fit an' then on the ither, wi' his black wee thoomb on the neb o' his nose a' the time, an' his fingers twurlin' in the air, just like daft Pap Merlin playin' on the flute." Here Mrs Mathieson and myself, enjoying this bit of description, broke out into a hearty laugh, and Geordie himself came out with a burster that went ringing through the whole house. There was a hearty abandon in his laugh, which made the youthfulness of feeling he still retained in advanced years as remarkable in its way as the perennial freshness of Charles Mathews. Even the children caught the con- tagion of his merriment, and " Wee Davy" chuckled as if he knew what it was all about. When the wrinkles that ran back to Geordie's ears from the corners of his eyes in hilarious moods had subsided sufficiently to allow him to proceed, he said — " Little did I jalouse, when they tell't me tae tak care o' pickpockets afore leaving hame, that I wud sae sune hae the born thievin' blackguards flichterin' aboot my lugs." "Well, and how did you get rid of the imps?" I asked ; " because, you know, the London street Arabs are up to all sorts of mischief, and do not stick at trifles when their sharp noses have scented what they call a ' green cove.' " " Ou, a' at ance, afore ye could say ' Jack Robison,' the dirty, raggit loon, wha twurled his fingers in my face, cried oot tae the ither twa, ' Here's a Bobby,' an' aff the three ne'er-do-weels ran at a ' deil tak the hinmost' rate o' speed. I kent weel eneugh what a ' Bobby ' was, as the callants of Kilpirnie gie the very same nickname tae THE MOUNTED "BOBBY." 21 oor police offisher, Donald Mackay; but this ane was munted like a dragoon on a big black horse, an' had a helmet on his head, and so I let him gae past at his jog- trot without sayin' onything aboot the loons, or speerin' the road." " Don't you think, sir," said Mrs Mathieson, address- ing me, " that was very foolish of my father, for I never yet found a policeman in London give me a wrong direction ? " "It was, certainly," I rejoined; "but then he had never seen a mounted policeman before, and was pro- bably not aware that ' Bobbies ' were the proper persons to apply to when he was at a loss where to go." " Weel, ye see," resumed Geordie, giving his grey head a scratch, and stroking it all over, up and down, with the palm of his hand, " I hadna muckle time tae think aboot it, and whun I had stappit alang a wee bit, an' only gat a shake o' the head frae twa or three folk that I speered the way at, I just thocht I wad e'en mak the best o' a bad job by seein' what I could dae for mysel'. The road I fallowed took me through ane o' the airches o' anither railway brig " — "Viaduct, call it, Mr Purdie ; that was the Brighton and South Coast line from Victoria ; you had come quite right so far." "Ay, sir, just that. I thocht I was a' richt whun I saw foment me an eiron park yett an' porter's lodge an' railin's, and a lang raw o' trees. I was cocksure it could be nae ither but Battersea Park, which Nelly there tell't me in a letter was close to her hoose. Hoosomever, as ill-luck would hae it, I turned alang the road tae my richt haund, keepin' in the skoog o' the trees an' bushes that grew 2 2 GE OH DIE P URDIE IN I OND ON. inside the railin', for it was a very het day ; ye maybe mind?" I nodded assent. " There wasna mony folk on the road, ye see, for there's a hantle o' empty grund thereaboot, and I gaed on carryin' my hat in my haund to get a gliff o' air aboot my head. There was a wife, I mind — a randy-lookin' hizzy, wi' a bairn in ae airm, an' a match-box in her ither haund — stannin' wi' her back to the railin's, an', as I was gaun by, she haudit oot the box, till it cam' near the neb o' my nose, whinin' an' whumperin' at the same time, like a whuppit whalp ; but I thocht she was just as likely as no to be the mither o' the vagabonds that wanted to rob me, an' I gaed my wa's withoot saying a single word. She cam' after me a gude bit though, still whinin' an' mutterin', and whun she saw I wouldna stop, she cursed and swore far waur than Sprig Jock in ane o' his drunken fits." Here Mrs Mathieson, aware that her father could spin a long yarn when he once got begun, advised him to cut the story of his day's adventure short. " On I gaed," continued Geordie, without seeming to pay much attention to his daughter's admonitions, " an' just as I got oot o' the soond o' the spunk-wife's tongue, I fund mysel' at the end o' a graund eiron brig, a' glitterin' wi' gilt tappy-touries, an' steamers an' boats o' a' kinds sailin' up and doon on the water aneath." It was Chelsea Suspension Bridge, spanning Chelsea Reach, he had wandered to — an imposing structure in- deed, but quite on the wrong tack from Gladstone Row. " Surely, my friend," I said, " you must have felt how far astray you had gone, when you were back to the " WATER-CRESSES!" 23 Thames again, after crossing the river in the railway train?" " I couldna conceive at first," he continued, " whatna water it could be ; an' as I was stappin' on tae the brig tae get a better luk, a man cam forrit tae me frae the door o' what micht be a guard-hoose, haudin oot his haund, as if he wanted it crossed wi' siller. 'What is't you want?' said I. ' There's a ha'penny to pay, if ye cross the bridge, ' said he. " Weel, I gied him the bawbee, as I saw he let naebody gae by withoot payin', but it fielded me hoo the folk o' Lunnon could put up wi' a tax like that for a single day." " Bridge-tolls for foot-passengers," I said, " are cer- tainly abominations, and you would have required to fork out in the same way at Waterloo, Charing Cross, Vaux- hall, Hammersmith, or Putney." "Ye would hae been better," rejoined Geordie, "wi' a man among ye like Dundonnachie, wha focht the battle o' Dunkeld Brig wi' the Duke o' Athole. A bawbee's aye a bawbee, especially tae warkmen and puir folk; and there's plenty gaun aboot here, I see, at a' 'oors o' .the day wi' basketfu's an' barrowfu's o' greens and tatties, an' carrots, an' dried haddies, an' wulks, an' gude kens a' what, yellin' as lood as their broken-wunded pipes will blaw. There's some o' them enoo," he added, rising and walking to the window. Sure enough, as if to give point to Geordie's observa- tion, a girl, who was walking along the pavement with a basket on her head, stopped opposite the window, and, looking him straight in the face, bawled out at the top of her high-pitched voice — " Wa-ter cree-ses — wa-ter cree-ses, a penny the bunch ! " while a costermonger, 24 GEORDIE PURDIE IN LONDON. trudging along the centre of the road, at the same time, with a barrow-load of Yarmouth bloaters, kippered had- docks, shrimps, and periwinkles, kept singing out the art- less and monotonous refrain — ' ' Hey cum au reray — Idle all the day." Geordie listened attentively to him for a time, as if trying to make out the words of the costermonger's peculiar sing-song, and then said, on returning to his seat, " He would never dae for a precentor, that chield." There was something so " truly rural " in this remark that I could not refrain from laughing, but Geordie cut me short by resuming his narrative. "Whaur was I? Ou, ay — weel, ye see I didna grudge the toll whun I got half-way cross the brig, aye takin' care to keep oot o' the thrang o' horses an' wheels ; an' I stoppit tae look doon on the steamboats paddlin' and puffin', ane after anither, awa' up the water, an' a' croodit wi' pleasurin' folk — as it was Saturday, ye mind — an' a band o' music, wi' glitterin' brass instruments, playin^ cheery tunes in ilka boat. I heard ane o' the bands playin' ' Weel may the boatie row,' just as if it had come a' the way frae Crail or Cellardyke. Man, it was a graund sicht tae me, wha had never in a' my life seen the like afore.. There wasna half sae mony bands o' music at the Chartist demonstration lang syne, whun Abraham Duncan and ithers beguiled Fife folk awa' frae their waubs for weeks." Mrs Mathieson, afraid, perhaps, that her father was to " flow on for ever," like Tennyson's brook, here left the room with her children to attend to her domestic affairs, GA Y DECEIVERS. 2 5 and, as it afterwards appeared, to provide us with a com- fortable luncheon of cold meat and salad, and Burton drawn fresh from the butt. When she had gone out, Geordie rose from his seat, walked noiselessly across the floor in his stocking-soles, quietly closed the door behind his daughter and the "twa bairns," and, taking a chair nearer me, said, with the peculiar " pawky " look to which I have formerly referred — " I'm gled Nelly's gane butt the hoose just at the nick o' time, for the fact is I didna tell her an' Davy a' o' what happened neist." " No ! " I ejaculated, somewhat surprised ; " and what did actually happen next ? " "Weel, ye ken (here another long-drawn pinch of " sneeshin " was inhaled, and Geordie brought his chair closer to me with a sudden jerk), as I was glowerin' ower the brig at the boatloads o' folk on the water aneath, an' munchin' awa' at the last half-sheaf o' white bread and bit o' gowdy cheese I fund in my coat-tail pooch, there cam' twa decent-eneugh-like and weel-put- on men, an' stood, leanin' their chins on their haunds, the ane on the ae side o' me, an' the ither on the ither side. The ane that cam' to my richt haund had on a Sabbath hat and black claes, a white neepkin round his neck like a minister or a man in murnin's, an' a pair o' spectacles on, that were aye slippin' doon near the neb o' his pug- nose. He had nae hair on his face, an' — wad ye believe it ? — I thocht at first it was Maister Girnawa, the Free Kirk minister o' Monkstoun. The ither was a bigger an', stooter man, wi' bushy beard and whiskers, a red face like a farmer's, and sma' grey een ; an' I noticed that he wore a goud ring on the thick curney o' his left 26 GEORDIE PUR DIE IN LONDON. haund. He had on what they ca' a billycock hat, an' a glazed waterproof Mackintosh that cam' amaist doon to his heels, though it was a het dry day, an' there was nae appearance o' a drappie o' rain." " You seem to have taken stock of the strangers pretty well, Geordie," I said, " so far as outward appearance goes." " Ou ay," he answered ; " ye see, I had plenty o' time, for they keepit speakin' past me, the tane to the tither, three or fowre minutes afore they spak to me at a'. The little man wi' the glasses, that I was fule eneugh to think, whun I got the first glisk o' him, lookit no onlike Maister Girnawa, was namin' places to the ither man, just as if he had new come to the toun like mysel'. " ' That large buildin' ower yonder,' " he said, pintin' wi' his finger, 'is Chelsea Hospital, for sick and superannuate sodgers, an' it will be worth ye'r while, Mr Cribbage ' — I think that was the name he gied his freend— ' to go along wi' me some day an' see the state room wi' its royal portraits, an' the chapel hung wi' flags ta'en in battle.' " Then he pu'd oot his watch, lookit at it, put it to his lug, an', turnin' to me, asked gin I could tell him the time, as his ticker had stopped gien tick. I leugh in his face, thinkin' him a wag, but the lauch sune gaed roond tae the wrang side o' my mooth whun I put doon my haund and fund that, though the watch, sure eneugh, was lyin' safe an' soond in the watch-pooch o' my breeks, fient a bit o' chain was tae the fore, an' awa' wi' it had gane, barkin' an' fleein', the rowin'-up key, the wee tortoise-shell buckie, an' the bonny goud seal that I got AN ANCIENT WATCH. 27 frae my gran'-faither whim I had bankit eneugh siller in a purly-pigg to buy my first and last watch." After much fumbling, and diving deep with his thumb and forefinger into the old-fashioned watch-pocket of his trousers, Geordie fished up his huge antique silver chronometer, and surveyed it with pride and satisfaction as it lay asleep, as if exhausted with long labour, on the broad hard palm of his hand. From the size and weight of the watch, and its tight fit in the watch-pocket, it was easy to understand how it had fortunately escaped capture, when the appendages fell a prey to nimble fingers. " But how and where, in all the world, did this mis- chance happen ? " I inquired. " Did you not suspect the little, reverend-looking man with the spectacles, or the big man with the red face and bushy beard and whiskers ? " " No' a bit — at the time," replied Geordie ; " I ne'er took a thocht but what they were decent and honest men, mair especially as they baith tried to com- fort me wi' fair words whun they saw I was like tae gae wud aboot my loss ; tellin' me no to speak ower lood or I micht gather a crood, an' there was nae sayin' hoo mony pickpockets micht come bizzin' aboot oor lugs." "You took them for good Samaritans, George, anxious to soothe your wound with the oil of sympathy and kindness ? " "Ay, that I did, fule as I was — for a time; but I wish they had shown themsel's mair like Levites, an' gaen by on the ither side. I tell't them aboot the thievin' loons at Battersea Station, an' then they 28 GEORDIE PURDIE IN LONDON. questioned me, seemin' tae tak great interest in-, what I said, until they got oot o' me the haill story o' that bein' my first day in Lunnon, an' hoo I had gaen clean gyte in tryin' tae get tae my dochter Nelly's hoose." CHAPTER IV. PURDIE CONTINUES HIS STORY — IN A CAB WITH CARD-SHARPERS — NEDDY OCKUM GETS A SQUEEZE — CAB AND CROCKERY DONKEY- CART COLLISION — ONE FOR CRIBBAGE — MRS ODGERS COMES TO THE RESCUE. " No doubt," I said, " your two friends readily picked up the meaning of ' clean gyte ?' " " Nae doot, nae doot," rejoined Geordie ; " everybody here seems tae ken what a Scotch tongue is drivin' at, though they canna aye pit their ain tongues, soople as they are, roond aboot the words. Weel, ye see, at lang an' last, after speakin' thegither awhile, the little minister- like man said we wud a' gae back tae the end o' the brig, an' they wud gang alang wi' me in the first dis- engaged cab that cam' up, an' see me safe landit at Gladstone Row. I thocht it unco kind o' them, an' was sweer to tak them awa' oot o' their ain gate ; but the little man said his freend Cribbage sloppit wi' him near Clapham Common, an' that it was a' richt — the cab- drive wud tak them sae far on their ain way hame." " 'All right,' my good friend," said I, " is a handy phrase frequently on the lips of Londoners, including sharpers, when they know all's wrong ; and thus it turned out to be in your experience." 30 GEORDIE PUR DIE IN LONDON. " Richt or wrang," he continued, " we didna need to wait lang at the end o' the brig for an empty cab. The twa bundled me in first, an' weel eneugh pleased I was, ye may be sure, tae clank doon on a padded seat, though it wasna sae saft as this chair. I thocht naething aboot it at the time, but I'm sure noo I saw the driver wink wi' ae ee to the little man — wha sat beside me — whun he steekit the door wi' a bang an' a twust o' the haunle. Awa' we drave at a spankin' rate, an' the man Cribbage, sittin' foment me, wi' his big legs speldered on baith sides o' mine, pulled his pipe an' match-box oot o' an inside pooch, an' laid them doon on the seat aside him. The neist thing he did was to ram his haund into the same pooch, and bring oot a flask-bottle wi' a tin tap, an' covered up to the neck wi' black leather. After drainin' a gude drap, he handit it to me, sayin' it was capital stuff — red-heart rum (I kent noo hoo he got his red face) ; but I gied it to the little man withoot tastin', tellin' them baith that I likit to see as weel as to smell what I was gaun to drink, an' that I had already that mornin' got scunner eneugh at Lunnon liquor for ae day. Cribbage gied a grumph, an' mumbled something aboot it bein' uncommon for a Scotchman to be squeamish aboot drink." " Total abstinence must have stood you in good stead for once, George," I said, complimenting him on a sagacity which contrasted strongly with his previous simplicity in allowing himself to be trapped by sharpers. "For aught you know, the drink might have been drugged, and Cribbage and his wily companion of meeker visage, whose name you have not yet mentioned, might only have made a pretence of taking a ' drain,' NEDD Y BLO WING A CLOUD. 31 which is, I fancy, the nearest approximation in English to the famous ' willy-waucht ' of Robbie Burns." " Withoot doot," resumed Geordie, " there micht hae been twa ways o' drinkin' oot o' the leather-skinned flask, which minds me o' what I've heard folk say aboot the Wizard o' the North's bewitched bottle ; but I was nae fule that time at onyrate, as ye are gude eneugh tae admit. Maister Ockum — that was the name that Crib- bage first gied the little man ; but whim he began in the cab to blaw whuffs o' strong bacco-reek that made me host, first oot o' his mooth, and then oot o' his nose, he seemed to forget himsel' a' thegither, an' ca'd the ither ane Ned an' Neddy. Weel, this Neddy or Ockum — a gude name for a wafif, deceevin' blackguard — lichtit a ceesaur, an' the twa ' fufft wi' sic a lunt ' (that's in Burns' ' Hallowe'en,' ye ken), that I had to ask them for ony- sake to let in a puff o' fresh air, or I wud choke oot- richt. The glass at ae side was let half-doon, an' I felt muckle the better o't, as the place was as het as an oven, forbie steamin' wi' reek. I noticed Cribbage, wha hadna spoken direct tae me after refusin' his flask, look at Ockum twice or thrice aneath his broos, an' then it was he drew oot o' anither pooch a pack o' cairds tied up wi' an India-rubber band." "You smelt a rat, then, surely, George?" I said, smiling to him inquiringly. "Ay, that did I," exclaimed Geordie, starting to his feet and speaking in a louder tone, which, however, he lowered a little on glancing to the door — " the card- sharpin', thumble-riggin', an' pocket -pickin' ne'er-do- weels, and torn-doon blackguards ! — I saw a' in a minute the kind o' set I had been fule eneugh to tak up wi', 32 GEORDIE PURDIE IN LONDON. beguiled by fair words, deceived by my ain een ; an' I had half a mind, there an' then, to kick the pack o' cairds oot o' Cribbage's haunds. But second thochts are best. Thinks I tae mysel', ' There's twa o' them an' ane o' me, an' maybe the cabman ootside, drivin' sae hard enoo, would mak three o' them tae ane o' me.' Thinks I again, ' It'll be best for me tae keep a calm sough awhile, an' if thae twa rapscallians can play cairds, I mun try an' play mine as week' " "Good, George, good," I said, encouragingly, feeling my interest in the adventure increase as we were evi- dently drawing near some sort of crisis or other, which set the captive free. " Richard was himself again j — now, pray go on, my friend, I am all ear." " ' Dae ye tak a haund at cairds ? '" said Cribbage tae me, lukin' at me pawkily wi' his little grey een, an' rufflin the pack wi' his thoomb. " ' Weel, I've played at birkie an' catch-the-ten whun I was a callant,' " said I, " ' but muckle against my faither's wull, as he ca'd them the deil's bukes ; an' I dinna think I shall fash mysel' to play noo at my time o' life, at least in this heat an' reek.' " " Cribbage gied a bit snigger o' a jeerin' lauch, an' then said tae Ockum, ' Come on then, Neddy, an' let us play a trick or twa for half-an-half, to pass the time.' I kent fine that they were just gaun to try an' inveigle me into jinin' them to roop me o' my siller, an' no stop until they had left me pennyless ; an' a' at ance it cam' swap upon me, garrin' me grue, that, at the rate the cab- wheels were burin' alang, we had surely gaen far past Gladstone Row, frae what they said to me whun we were on the brig. There were hooses on baith sides o' NEDDY OCKUM GETS A SQUEEZE. 33 us, an' nae appearance o' the Park or Gardens. ' Stop the cab, sirs, an' let me oot,' said I ; 'we mun surely be far past Gladstone Row.' I had risen frae my seat, an' was takin' haud o' the haunle o' the door, after pushin' doon the glass, but Ockum put oot his leg, an' said, ' Sit doon, sir, sit doon — dae ye want to kill yersel' ? — we are just gaun alang a little way to the White Horse to dine, an' we want the pleasure o' your company.' " ' No a bit o' me wull gang to the White Horse, Black Horse, Grey Horse, or ony ither Horse,' cried I, my dander fairly up noo. 'I've had mair than eneugh o' ye'r company already ; for, let me tell ye, I see ower weel noo what ye are, an' I mun get oot o' the cab.' " Sayin' this, I sprang tae the upper end tae chap on the window tae the cabman ; but, fast as I thocht I was, Cribbage was there afore me, an' openin' the window, he roared wi' a' his micht tae the driver to go ahead. " ' What dae ye mean, ye villain ? ' I cried ; an' had my knuckles weel knotted tae gae him a bash in the chafts whun he turned roond ; but the cab had rattled aff sae muckle faster than afore, that I gaed bangin' back against Maister Neddy Ockum, an' took care to gie his stamach a gude squeeze when I had him sae cannily in a corner. He screiched an' squeeled, an' tried tae kick an' bite the back o' my neck, an' glad was I tae hear his glasses crunchin' aneath his feet. Cribbage, wi' his wee grey een like to start frae his head, put his haund oot either to tak me by the throat or strike me richt on the nose — I dinna ken which, as the haill thing passed like winkin — when a' at ance — the Lord be praised ! — the richt-haund wheel o' the cab cam crashin' up against something that I could hear conteened crockery-ware, fra' 34 GEORDIE PURDIE IN LONDON. the fearfu' soond o' the clatterin' on the street, just as if the front window o' a pigg-shop had been dirled oot by a clap o' thunner." Purdie grew more and more animated, even excited, as he approached the denouement of his adventure ; and the feverish haste with which he snatched a pinch con- trasted strikingly with the slow-going deliberateness of the snuffing operation in his calmer moods. " Of course," said I, " you took advantage of the hurly-burly to effect your escape." " That I did, ye may be sure," he replied ; " ' it's an ill wind that blaws naebody gude.' Ane o' the wheels o' oor cab was lockit inside the wheel o' a cuddy-cart, whas twa ricketty trams, bund here an' there wi' leather an' bits o' strings, were stickin' richt up into the air, an' the puir auld cuddy itsel' was lyin' on its side in the middle o' the road, kickin' awa' like mad. The clatter o' breakin' ashets an' bowls an' plates was sune fallowed by the clash o' ill-scrapit tongues ; an' it was fearfu' to hear the pigg- man an' his screichin' wife, an' the cabman on his box, swearin' up an' doon at ane anither, as if they were ower weel acquainted wi' the trade. " The rackit wasna lang in bringin' thegither a noisy crood ; an' in the midst o' the confusion, which drew aft frae me the attention o' the twa blackguard cardsharpers, I turned the haunle o' the door an' jumpit oot, but my feet were barely on the grand whim I fand a firm grip on the cuff o' my neck ; an' if desperation hadna gien me mair strength than I hae at this minute, I micht hae been pulled back into the cab again, to be robbed or murdered — wha kens ? " Hoosomever — gude be thankit ! — I twusted mysel' PARTING SALUTE TO CRIB B AGE. 35 roon' wi' a strong jerk, an' got clear aff ; but my bluid was up, an' I gied Cribbage for grippin' me a partin' ding i' the ribs, that maist doobled him up, and sent him back duntin' doon breathless in his seat. " Ye may be sure I didna bide a minute langer ; an' as the maist feck o' the folk were croodit aboot the cuddy on the ither side o' the cab, or taen up wi' the colly-shangie atween the cabman an' the pigg-man an' his wife, I sune got warstled oot o' the warst o' the din and stramash, an' only turned roond to hae anither look whun I saw nae- body was takin' muckle notice o' me. Neither hap nor hair of Cribbage or Ockum was to be seen; the low cooardly vagabonds thocht, nae doot, the best thing for them was to keep close in the cab. " The Bobbies had come by this time, an' were gaun aboot clearin' awa' the crood, giein' cuffs i' the lug an' a gude shakin' to the raggamuffin loons that were cheerin', yellin', and whustlin' wi' their fingers in their mooths. Still the argle-barglin' gaed on, an' the pigg-wife, wha had a waur tongue in her head than Peg Pearson — an' that's sayin' a gude heap — stood amon' the police rampagin' at a fearfu' rate, an' every noo an' then shakin' her nieve up at the cab-driver. At lang an' last, whun the auld ruckle o' a cart was tugget awa' frae the cab, an' the doited cuddy was set on its legs again, I saw ane o' the Bobbies get up beside the cabman, and awa' they drave, but whaur tae I couldna say, unless it micht be the nearest Police Station tae see about the payin' o' the piper for breakin' a' the puir folk's piggs." " Well, George," said I, " you surely had got over the worst of your day's troubles now. You certainly deserve credit for getting cleanly and cleverly out of what might 3 6 GEORDIE PURDIE IN LONDON. have been an awkward business, considering the unscru- pulous character of the two experienced scamps and swindlers who had taken you in tow. The Police Office, I fancy, was about the last place in the world they would care about being driven to, and perhaps they were ' wanted ' at the very time for some nice little job in which they had succeeded better than with you. The 'Artful Dodger,' whom you ludicrously mistook for a minister, is likely to be, I should think, an old acquaint- ance of the metropolitan and City detectives. But where did the final spill happen, and how did you manage to get here at last ? " "Weel," answered Geordie, who had now quieted considerably, " it wasna sae very far awa' frae this after a'. The last bit o' cheese an' bread I had at the brig didna stop my hunger a' thegither, an' I gaed into a shop to speer the price o' a fine bit o' potted-head I saw lyin' on a plate within the window. It wasna very dear, an' the wife tell't me if I liket tae sit doon she would gie me a knife an' fork, an' a piece o' bread an' something she ca'd Yorkshire relish. Weel, I sat doon at a wee roond table, but I couldna finish aff the potted-head — it was ower het wi' pepper — an' just as I was speerin' at the wife if she kent the way to Gladstone Row, anither thin- lookin', yellow-faced woman, stannin' at the coonter, said she keepit a green-grocer's shop at the corner o' the Row, an' she offered tae tak me tae the place if I would gang alang wi' her." " I hope you were sure of your company this time," I said, looking gravely in Geordie's face. " Ou, ay," he answered, laughing briskly, " it was a' richt noo. She turned out to be nae ither than Mrs MRS ODGERS. 37 Odgers — the scranky widow-woman that Nelly buys a' her tatties, carrots, neeps, and ither vegetables frae, though the pickle I brocht in my kist has saved some o' the sixpences an' shillin's that folk here fling awa' on kail- blades an' sic-like. Mrs Odgers brocht me here tae the very door, an' she was weel pleased to get a drappie o' gin frae Nelly for her pains. That woman was the first green-grocer I ever spak tae in my life ; an' I'm no sure but she thocht, frae the kind o' carritch she put me through as we stappit alang the streets, that I, auld as I am, was a muckle heap greener than hersel'." CHAPTER V. FIFE FARE AT GLADSTONE ROW— VILLAGE CHARACTERS— LOWRIE LUMSDEN AND THE EARTHQUAKE — THE STREET MUSICIANS AND THE STILT-GIRL — A SHINDY— SINGING SAMBO IN TROUBLE. Geordie had now finished the amusing, home-spun story of his first day's adventures in London, and not a moment too soon, as Mrs Mathieson entered the room shortly afterwards to lay the cloth for luncheon. As she did so, he winked hard with both eyes, but in a natural sort of way, to signify to me that I was to keep dark on the sore subject of the cab drive and the card- sharpers. His daughter, however, from the expression of her face, had evidently overheard enough to excite her curiosity, as Purdie, notwithstanding his precaution in closing the door, had forgotten at times, in the excite- ment of the moment, to keep down his high-pitched voice to a lower key. I must confess there did not seem to me any sufficient reason why the cab escapade should be kept a secret, and I therefore resolved, as we were sitting down at table, to " let the cat out of the bag," despite the danger of rousing Geordie's ire in the event of Mrs Mathieson putting her inquiring looks into words. On the hospitable board there were displayed — in FIFE FARE. 39 addition to the cold meat, salad, and clear Burton already incidentally mentioned — some of the tempting Fife-baked and Fife-grown contents of Geordie's " kist," in the shape of well-browned oat-cakes, sweet milk flour scones, and juicy jargonelle pears. The sight of these homely viands seemed, as if by some magic spell, to recall the scenes and associations of early youth, and " old familiar faces " that have long since crumbled into dust. There is no- thing so homely that the mellow light of memory cannot etherealize it; and these rustic cakes and scones, adorning, in their native simplicity, a suburban London table, appeared to my rejuvenated fancy daintier than the finest food ever set before a king. " Mrs Mathieson," I could not help saying, " this is a treat indeed. You could not have purveyed a better if you had ransacked Smithfield Market for the choicest rump steak, or Covent Garden for the daintiest fruits of the season. The mere sight of these cakes and scones and jargonelles makes me feel like a boy again, and the only danger is that they may revive the voracity of the boyish appetite." " Oh, take as much as you like, and welcome," she said with a smile, which indicated satisfaction that she had succeeded in pleasing a guest who, though now a London Scot, was, and is at heart, a leal son of the " Land o* Cakes." Geordie, noticing his daughter looking first at himself and then at me, with that peculiar indescribable expres- sion of face that knows something, and would like to know more, sat rather ill at ease as he conveyed the cold meat in rapid forkfuls to his mouth, and swilled it down at short intervals with good draughts of Burton. 4 o GEORDIE PURDTE IN LONDON. At last, when the question, " What was that I heard about a cab ?" came out point-blank, he gave vent to what sounded like a deep sigh of relief, and resigned himself to his fate when I said there was no use of hiding any longer from Mrs Mathieson the whole story of his Saturday's escapade. Accordingly, I made a clean breast of the narrative which had been secretly confided to me, giving Geordie due credit for the caution, cleverness, and courage he had displayed when he found out the kind of company into whose hands he had inadvertently fallen ; and Mrs Mathieson, as she listened attentively to the recital, ejaculated at intervals, "Dear me!" and "Well now!" and "The like of that!" by way of expressing her wonderment. On being pressed by Nelly to explain why he had not told to her and Davy all he had related to me, Geordie could only say he " didna like, as they micht suspect he had a drappie ower muckle in his head." He also begged that "Davy micht ken naething aboot it;" but he did not elicit a promise to that effect, so far as I can re member. Our table talk, now that the first day's adventures were played out, ranged over a variety of topics, and Geordie soon recovered his natural flow of spirits as he recalled old times in the village of Kilpirnie, which lies as close to his heart as " Sweet Auburn, loveliest village of the plain," lay to the heart of Oliver Goldsmith. " Ye'll maybe no mind," he said, " o' Pab Jamie an' Mill Kirsty, twa puir lanesome bodies wha lived a cat-an'- dog life, in a bit hole o' a hoose, wi' a wee barrel for a L0WR1E LUMSDEN. 41 chimley pat, whun they were baith near a hunner years auld ? The folk said it was fearsome to hear the wrunkled oncanny woman puttin' her mooth close to her man's lug whun he was about breathin' his last, an' hissin' through her stumps o' teeth, ' Dee, ye deevil, dee ! ' If ever there was a witch i' the world forbye the woman o' Endor that brocht back the prophet Samuel to the face o' the earth after he was dead and buried, it was Mill Kirsty, as sure as my name is Purdie. They had nae freends thereaboot, or onywhaur else, sae far as I ken ; an' a' they had in the world was a sma'-sized, queer- lookin' coo, that the auld wife used to herd on the road- sides i' the parish." " The names are quite familiar to me," I said, " but I have no recollection of ever seeing the ill-assorted pair. Happily, George, there are no characters of that com- plexion about Kilpirnie now." " No ; that's a fact, an' the like o' them are weel awa'; but we hae lost a gude wheen o' folk since ye were a callant that couldna be sae weel spared. There was Lowrie Lumsden for ane — a man wha's bark was waur than his bite, an' wha would sometimes slip a shillin' into the loof o' a puir body, though he was never kent to put mair than a penny into a collection-plate in his life. He was a single man, ye'll mind, an' his spinster sister Marthy was his hoosekeeper. I dinna think ony wife could hae put up sae weel wi' him as Marthy did, because, though gude eneugh natured, he was unco pernickity an' fashious, an' was aye awfu' feared o' catchin' a glisk o' cauld. He had selvages o' claith tacked a' roond the edges o' the doors, an' the very key-hole o' their sittin'-room was stuffed up wi' tow, like a deaf man's lug wi' a ba' o' 00." 42 GEORDIE PURDIE IN LONDON. A sudden humorous reminiscence about Lowrie which crossed his mind here set Geordie off in a loud gaffaw that might have done credit to the lungs of Dominie Sampson. With his big flag-like handkerchief he had to wipe away the tears from the fountain of laughter in his eyes, before he could get out the words, " Did ye ever hear aboot Lowrie an' the earthquake ? " " No," said I ; " the story, if I ever heard it, has quite escaped my recollection." "Weel, it's a capital ane — haw! haw! haw!" ex- claimed Geordie, evidently well pleased that he had something fresh to communicate. Before beginning, however, he looked wistfully into the beer-jug, and ap- peared glad to find that it still contained enough Burton to replenish at least two of the glasses. A hasty rub with the back of his hand across his lips, after he had taken another " moothfu' " of the malt, prepared him to proceed. " Ae nicht," he went on, " about thretty year syne, or maybe mair, whun the folk o' Kilpirnie were a' snug in bed, there cam a spasm o' earthquake a' the way frae Comrie, makin' the grund heave an' the wa's trummle, an' settin' the bells in the hooses o' the gentry a' tingle- tinglin,' as if something uncanny had been puggin' at the wires. Curious enough, maist everybody that was waukened oot o' sleep wi' the dull rumlin' soond an' the creakin' o' beds an' doors seemed to ken what it was, though they had nae experience o' an earthquake afore. Lowrie — haw ! haw ! haw ! — lyin' alane in his bachelor's bed, thocht it was something wrang wi' himsel' an' no wi' the earth beneath, an' he rappit on the wa' tae his sister Marthy, wha sleepit in the next room, cryin' to her to AT L UNCHE ON. 43 come quick, as he had ta'en a shiverin' fit, an' needit salts and a het drink. Marthy had been waukened like ither folk by the rumlin' an' trumlin', but she didna let on tae Lowrie, as he was geyan' easy feared, an' so it cam to pass that he got his dose o' salts an' het drink after to cure him o' the earthquake — haw ! haw ! haw ! " Geordie's hilarity, being sound and hearty, was always contagious, and our outbreak of merriment brought the children pattering into the lobby from the back-green, and then into the room, where they were soon squatted on the hearth-rug, sucking the too luscious sweetness of jargonelle pears. There was what philosophers might call the " fitness of things " in the rustic flavour of Geordie's reminiscences, and the homely taste of the oat-cakes and sweet-milk scones, and it was probably for this reason that we sat longer than is customary at luncheon. But the sunshine now streaming in brilliant bars through the half-shut Venetians, and imparting a brighter glow to the rows of full-blossomed plants on the flower-stand, made me think, as I had the whole day at my disposal, that the time would be better occupied in taking Geordie to see some of the lions of London, when the weather was so favour- able for going abroad. Accordingly, I proposed to Mrs Mathieson, that in the absence of her husband at Greenwich, I should accompany her father to any places of interest he might wish to see, promising, at the same time, to do my best to keep him out of the hands of pickpockets and sharpers of all shades. To this proposal there was no direct objection, and a certain air of reluctance to give consent arose, as I imagined, and as afterwards ap- 44 GEORDIE PUR DIE IN LONDON. peared, from the antiquated cut of Mr Purdie's habili- ments. On being asked what he would like most of all to visit, Geordie could only give his head a dubious scratch, and exclaim abruptly — " Weel, it's a' ane tae me." " It is not surprising you are somewhat puzzled, George," I remarked, "as the choice is rather an ex- tensive one. There was an Orcadian I knew who said he would like to go to London once in his life, if for no other reason than to hear Spurgeon preach in his own tabernacle, and see the ninth wonder of the world — the Crystal Palace. Let him only hear the one, and see the other, and he would be content to forego visiting West- minster Abbey, the Houses of Parliament, the Tower, St Paul's, and all the galleries, museums, club-houses, theatres, and music halls, that would make a splendid city themselves, if they were built side by side in streets, squares, and terraces." " It's queer eneugh," quoth Geordie, " that ye should speak aboot Spurgeon an' the Crystal Palace in ae breath, for the fact is Nelly was just sayin' this very mornin' that we would hae to gang tae the Palace, whaur thousands o' teetotallers, an' foresters, an' freemasons, an' Hieland- fling dancers kick up a shindy ilka summer, as I hae read in the papers ; an' nae later than yestreen Davy himsel' said that he would tak me to hear Spurgeon some Sab- bath afore I gaed awa' back tae Kilpirnie. — But what's a' this, o't ? " Here Geordie, attracted by a curious combination of sounds, drum -beating, pipe -playing, cymbal-clashing, triangle-tingling, and shouting of children's voices, went THE WALTZING STILT-GIRL. 45 hurriedly to the window, pulled up the blinds, and let a flood of light into the room. " There noo — there noo ! " he exclaimed, rubbing his hands with almost boyish glee. " There's ane o' yer' Lunnun sichts come hame tae yer ain door, Nelly. Saw ye ever afore sic capers as thon antics are cuttin' ? " The spectacle which Geordie suddenly unfolded by pulling up the blind, as if he were enacting the part of showman, was sufficiently picturesque and amusing, although appearances soon indicated that it would end in mischief. The most prominent figure in the crowd seen from the window was that of a pretty girl, about twelve years of age, and dressed somewhat in the costume of a Christmas pantomime fairy, with a gilt band encircling her head — a girl who might have passed for the sister of Browning's " Fifine at the Fair "- — mounted high on a pair of blue- and-white striped stilts, which she managed with great dexterity and skill, keeping time to the music in a sort of waltzing movement, and making an abrupt pause when the cymbals gave a clash. Near her stalked about the musician — a big, burly, swarthy -visaged, dark-haired man, with a brazen helmet and bells on his head, a Pandean pipe stuck under his chin, a box-like instrument in his hand, which might be called an organette, a drum depending on straps from his back, a drum-stick fastened to his left elbow, and cymbals on the top of the drum, which he made ring and clash by kicking up his heel be- hind. A tawdry-looking woman, dressed in a dirty gown, a long tartan shawl, and a tarnished bonnet, who might or might not be his wife, followed in his wake, keeping time at intervals to the music on a triangle, which she 46 GEORDIE PURDIE IN LONDON. seemed to strike rather by a kind of automaton move- ment than by design or premeditation. This group, not very frequently seen on the streets in the southern suburbs, had attracted a considerable crowd of children from far and near, some clean and some un- washed, some tidy and some in rags; and on the outskirts of this motley gathering of juveniles there hovered a small band of Negro melodists, with the inevitable banjo — the genuine mud-larks, Christy Minstrels of the pave- ment and gin palace corners — who grimaced and laughed, sung snatches of doggrel rhymes, and made the children merry by indulging, at fits and starts, in impromptu jigs. These fellows had evidently been imbibing too freely in some neighbouring tavern, and they appeared bent on annoying the musicians and stilt-dancer, who were per- haps proving more formidable rivals to them in the locality than suited their taste. The Italian instrumentalist, as he might be called par excellence, bore the annoyance patiently enough for a time, even good-humouredly, showing his white teeth under the shade of his dark moustache as he grimly smiled, thinking, perhaps, it was only a passing freak caused by unwonted good luck or exhilaration of spirits. But his patience was soon becoming tried beyond endurance by continued interruptions, the triangle woman had begun to give tongue, which only made the burnt-cork-blackened mountebanks worse, and Geordie himself indoors was almost like to grow unmanageable, as he greatly admired the wonderful performer who was a " haill band o' music " in his one person. It was fortunate he was still in his stocking-soles, or he might have rushed out and tackled to the niggers at once. A SHINDY. 47 Matters, however, soon approached a crisis. One of the black melodists, twanging his banjo, went sidling through the crowd of children close to the stilt-dancer, and grinning impudently up in her face as he kept sing- ing the silly refrain — " Mother says I mustn't, Mother says I mustn't." Suddenly stooping down, the rascal seemed as if he wanted to lay hold of one of the stilts to frighten " Fifine," or give her a fall; but the Italian, notwithstanding his encum- brances, was too quick for him, and gave the half-drunken darkey a kick with his foot which sent him sprawling at full length on the ground, and caused the cymbals over the drum to send out a triumphant clash at the same time. " Capital ! " shouted Geordie at the pitch of his voice ; "dae't again — just saired the black vagabond richt !" It was evident, however, that the darkey, who lay prone beside his broken banjo, had already got quite enough, as he made no apparent effort to rise, and his two cowardly companions went off helter-skelter in different directions, amid cries of derision from the crowd of boys and girls, when the infuriated triangle-woman charged out upon them, baring her bony and wiry arms. At this moment (of course at this moment, when the brief fray was over) two policemen, a sergeant and a private, ap- peared on the scene, and made a great fuss, pushing aside with angry exclamations the excited children, and marching straight to the prostrate darkey. As an eye-witness of the affair, I thought it advisable to go out and back up the Italian musician's statement, and I soon found Geordie by my side, with his shoes, how- 48 GE ORDIE PUR DIE IN I OND O. \ '. ever, down in the heels, as they would not go on properly without the aid of a shoehorn. The policemen, pretty well acquainted with the tricks of these fellows, had already discovered that the street Christy was only shamming fatal injury, like those noxious reptiles which roll them- selves up as if dead when touched by foot or finger. A proposal to pour a pitcher of cold water on his face, which would have had the effect of miraculously chang- ing the colour of the Ethiopian's skin, caused him to leap briskly to his feet, much to the amusement of the crowd, and greatly to Geordie's astonishment. There Was the mark of a foot on his side, but none of his ribs had been shattered, and the policemen hastily collared him as he made a rather rapid and dexterous attempt to escape. Other eye-witnesses, besides ourselves, substantiated the Italian's story, and darkey was taken off in custody, pro- bably to figure in Lambeth Police Court on the following day as a victim of the latest Licensing Act. By this time the triangle-woman had rejoined her com- panions, and Geordie was quite beside himself with delight when, in return for a few coppers, the " musicianers," as he styled them, and the young lady of the stilts, who had never come down from her perch, prolonged their entertainment, making quite a stir in quiet Gladstone Row. CHAPTER VI. BATTERSEA PARK ON SUNDAY — PURDIE " TOGGERS HIMSELF UP — GOING TO THE ZOO — DANGERS OF THE STREETS — ON THE TRAMWAY CAR — STREET SCENES — DRIYERS' SQUABBLES — THE ELEPHANT AND CASTLE — A CONDUCTOR'S WINK. Geordie, casting a lingering look after the " musician ers" and the stilt-waltzer, said half-aloud and half to himself, "Folk here hae mony ways o' makin' bawbees, but that man yonner wi' the brass head an' the bells waurs them a'." As we were about re-entering the house, from the door- way of which Mrs Mathieson and the children retired into the interior at our approach, he turned round, and shading his eyes with both hands from the strong light of the sun, looked steadily in the direction of Battersea Park. " Man ! " he exclaimed at last, letting his hands drop with a loud clap on both thighs, "it's a graund Park that, though we can see little o't frae here but the ootside strip o' trees. Davy an' Nelly an' me an' the bairns gaed through it a' on Sabbath afternoon." " On Sabbath afternoon, George?" " Ay, on Sabbath afternoon, when we should hae been D 5 o GEORDIE PURDIE IN LONDON. i' the kirk, an' the haill place was just as thrang wi' folk as St James's feein' market at Cupar. There were croods o' men and women an' bairns, dressed i' their braws, some stravagin' alang the bonny floor-bordered walks, some sittin' at tables on the ootside o' a refreshment- house drinkin' ginger beer, an' eaten cookies, an' suppin' oot o' glasses what Nelly ca'd ice-creams — cauld stuff that I spat oot for sendin' a stang thro' my auld teeth — some paddlin' in a pond amon' water-hens an' wuld-jucks in cockle-shell boats, an' thoosands mair gathered aboot a band that was playin' tunes a'thegither new tae me, in an open pairt o' the Park." "Did you not feel any qualms of conscience, George?" I asked ; "you the son of a kirk beadle, and sometimes acting as a beadle yourself when old Samuel was laid aside with the growing infirmities of age ? " " Weel, ye see," replied Geordie, scratching his head, which he invariably did when he felt somewhat at a loss what to say ; " I didna think it was a'thegither richt ony o' us bein' there an' hearin' a band playin' on the Sabbath- day, but the folk were sae weel-behaved, an' sae weel put-on, that I couldna say I saw sae muckle wrang in't after a'. " 'The maist ye see here,' said Davy tae me, 'are work- men wi' their wives an' weans, an' they stand sair in need o' a breath o' caller air on the ae day o' the week they can ca' their aim' " Weel, there's sense in that," thocht I ; " hoosomever, I'll better no blab aboot bein' here on Sabbath when I gang hame tae Kilpirnie, as there's nae sayin' but I micht hae tae gang afore the Session." " You will atone for the error of your ways, George," SITTING IN COMMITTEE. 51 I responded, " by going in Mr Mathieson's company to hear Spurgeon next Sunday. Meanwhile, let us walk inside, and settle at once where we are to spend the rest of the day." On returning to the front parlour we went into what might be called a committee of the whole house. As there was evidently a sort of understanding that Mr and Mrs Mathieson and the children were to accompany Geordie on his first visit to the Crystal Palace on some early day, when there would be special attractions, I suggested that we should go that afternoon to the Zoological Gardens at the Regent's Park, travelling by rail and tramway car and 'bus, and thereby giving our friend an opportunity of seeing en route some of the busiest scenes in London. Geordie jumped at the proposal eagerly, " like a cock at a grozer," as he might have expressed it in one of his own pithy phrases. " That's the very place," he exclaimed, " that Maister Myreside, oor coo-doctor — wha met me on the road tae the station when leavin' hame — tell't me I should be sure tae gang an' see whun I was up in Lunnon, sayin' that the puggies nae less had a graund glass-hoose a' tae them- sels." "Very well then, George," I said, "let us be off with- out further delay, the weather looks so tempting for a cruise in the open air." Geordie evidently had not made much use of his razor since coming to town, and his chin bristled with short stumps of silver hair like a miniature stubble-field, the glistening white of which presented a curious contrast to the snuff-powdered hue of his upper lip. But there was no time for a " scrape " either with the edge of his own 5 2 GE OR DIE P URDIE IN L OND ON Sheffield blade, or at the shop of Simon Soapsuds, the barber round the corner at the top of the Row, where a brass plate dangled from a red and white painted pole, like a glittering bait to catch customers. On Purdie going out of the room to " togger himself up," his daughter Nelly accompanied him, and in a short time he re-appeared looking quite spruce, but somewhat awkward and bashful, in a morning coat belonging to his son-in-law, which fitted him to a nicety, and which had displaced his antique Sunday swallow-tail. He would not, however, allow any interference with his neck-tie, the long ends of which he was always in the habit of letting fall loose over his shirt-front. A substitute for his high-crowned chimney-pot hat was fortunately found in a black felt billycock that quite transmogrified Geordie Purdie when Nelly put it on his head. He went forward to the mirror over the mantelpiece, and, after surveying himself for a few seconds, with a comical expression of face, turned round and said — "Weel, it was nae farther gane than the week afore I cam here that Willie Cook said tae me ae day, ' Man, Geordie, ye're growin' awfu' like yer faither, auld Samuel, noo dead an' gane.' " ' Losh, Willie,' I answered him, ' I think that mysel' mony a time ; an' whun I tak a keek intae the lookin'- glass, I say whiles, Hullo ! my auld cockie, hae ye gotten back again?' But naebody can say I'm like my faither noo, wi' this dockit coat on, an' this Hielant-lookin' beaver on my pow." Accustomed to her father's bluntness and oddities of speech, Mrs Mathieson did not find fault with the seeming irreverence of the words " auld cockie " applied TALK IN THE TRAIN. 53 to her departed grandfather, but she enjoyed a hearty laugh at Geordie's altered guise, though nothing could change his rusticity of aspect. After promising to see him safely back again, and keep him out of the clutches of prowling Cribbages and' Ockums, we set out on our excursion, taking the train from Battersea Station to Brixton Road, whence tramway cars run all the way to Westminster Bridge. In the train I gave Geordie some idea beforehand of the treat he might expect in a tramway drive, telling him that the cars — roomy, well-ventilated, and softly- cushioned — were as nicely fitted up inside as first-class railway carriages, and that the outside or deck seats, reached by winding flights of steps, presented a capital " coigne of vantage " for surveying comfortably all the scenes, ongoings, and incidents of street life. I also told him that the smoothness with which they ran was in itself a new sensation, the freedom from jolting as in omnibuses being so perfect that the most nervous person could sit on the top at ease, confident that he would not be shaken out of his shoes at irregular intervals. " I saw tramway cairriages rinnin' atween Edinbro' an' Leith," said Geordie, " but I thocht at first they were the caravans o' show-folk. I never was on ane o' them in my life, an' nae doot the ride will be a graund treat. We mun gang up on deck though," he added, "for I want tae see aboot me better than we can dae here in this closed-up concern." Brixton Station was now reached, and on gaining the street, his first exclamation was, " Whulk way dae we gang noo ? " A car had just pulled up a short distance off, and the 54 GEORDIE PURDIE IN LONDON. conductor, with uplifted arm and wagging forefinger, kept shouting at the pitch of his voice, " Westminster ! Westminster Bridge ! " " Here you are, George — look alive now," I said, taking hold of him by the arm, and trying to lug him along somewhat faster than he seemed disposed to go. " What's a' ye'r hurry, sir," he exclaimed, making an effort, though not a very vigorous one, to free his arm ; " dinna ye see the man's waitin' ? " " He won't wait long," I rejoined, continuing to hasten his too leisurely pace. It was fortunate I retained hold of his arm in crossing over to the car, as it enabled me to whisk him — somewhat roughly perhaps, but safely — out of the way of a light spring-cart, driven by a butcher's boy in blue apron, that went whirling past at the dangerous and often fatal speed of those wheeled terrors of the London streets. Waggons and omni- buses and carriages give warning of their approach by the rumble or sharp rattle of their wheels, but butchers' carts and milk-carts, gliding swiftly along with little noise, frequently bear down upon unsuspecting foot- passengers before they have time to escape to the pave- ment. " You were very nearly making yourself a candidate for admission to Guy's Hospital," I observed, when we had got seated on the top of the tramway car, with our backs to the sun. " ' Near never killed a man,' " Geordie responded with considerable nonchalance, thinking apparently that he had run little risk of losing either limb or life ; " I was near drouned ance by fa'in intae a mill-dam at Balwharg, STREET SIGHTS. 55 an' I was near killed anither time by rumblin' head- first intae an auld pit in a plantin' at Coaltoun o' Pitmains ; but here I am, a' richt yet, an' ready for anither snuff." This was spoken in his customary high-pitched voice, and at once attracted the amused attention of our fellow- passengers behind and alongside. After refreshing himself with his usual three pinches of Taddy, he was just in the act of handing his snuff-box with the nose-spoon inside to his left-hand neighbour, who had the look of a city clerk, when I gave him a " nudge " on the arm, and got him to understand that he might never see his property again, especially if it went the length of the driver. He took the hint, and pocketed his box ; but it was impossible to restrain the ejaculatory comments on passing sights and persons to which he gave vent, exciting frequent merriment both by the bluntness of his manner and the exceeding breadth of his Fifeshire Doric. Our route lay along Brixton Road, Kennington Road, Newington Butts, London Road, and Westminster Road, to the Bridge; and as we bowled smoothly onwards there was no lack of street incidents to keep Geordie con- stantly on the qui vive, and to supply him with texts for racy and humorous observations. Now it was a costermonger belabouring an overladen and refractory donkey which would not move its forelegs, but applied its hind ones vigorously to the crazy little cart that excited its indignation ; or a burly-looking blackguard crossing the street from the "Cat and Fiddle" at the corner, where " Watney's Entire " glitters in gold on a great signboard, and knocking down the unfortunate 56 GEORDIE PURDIE IN LONDON. youth on a velocipede, who had accidentally grazed the furious fellow's foot ; or a hansom and cab wheel-locked, when running opposite ways, the two drivers swearing fiercely at each other, and neither showing any inclination to back their horses ; or a lady gorgeously attired, whose ample skirt sweeps the pavement, followed by ragged gamins who turn somersaults behind her back, and contort their faces into that peculiar gaping grin with which Punch has made us all familiar. "They're jist the deils ain buckies they Lunnon laddies," said Geordie, when he saw the " box o' lights " boys playing these fantastic tricks under the very noses of sniffing policemen, who were too heavy-footed to give chase. Just as we entered upon Newington Butts our tram- way driver was shouting angrily to an omnibus driver in front, who would neither get out of the way nor go ahead at a quicker pace. The two were discharging rapid volleys of imprecations backwards and forwards at each other as we passed Spurgeon's massive Tabernacle ; and when I told Geordie what building it was, he surveyed it with curious interest, slewed sideways on his seat, and then dryly remarked — with evident reference to the hot squabble going on between the drivers — " It's a muckle kirk, but it disna seem to baud a' the folk here- aboot!" " Shut up, Scoty," shouted a man like a cattle-dealer, who had his back to Purdie's, and who probably thought that the words he had just heard, without under- standing them, meant some disrespect to the great Baptist preacher, who is exceedingly popular among the working classes of the metropolis. THE ELEPHANT AND CASTLE. 57 Geordie's rapid " What d'ye say, cockie ? " which created loud laughter, might have led to another war of words, if we had not by this time reached the Elephant and Castle, where the seeming cattle-dealer descended from the car, and contented himself, when he got to the ground, with bawling out something about " cabbage broth," which was drowned in the din of that great meet- ing-place of thoroughfares — " With carts, and cars, and coaches roaring all." " This is the heart of South London, George," I said ; " into which and out of which all the great arteries pour their life-streams." " So I think," he rejoined ; "an' it's a heart that beats lood eneugh tae ; but just look at a' thae rails: it cows me tae ken hoo the drivers can pick oot the richt frae the wrang." There is certainly a wonderful network of tramway lines in the immediate vicinity of the famous Elephant and Castle, and I know not that its equal in apparent intricacy will be found anywhere else about the metropolis, save at Clapham Junction, which is said to be a terminus ad qnem and a quo for all the railways in the kingdom. It was no wonder, therefore, that Geordie was astonished, and expressed his astonishment in a variety of homely ejaculations, loud enough for listeners to hear. " What for hae they gien that inn the queer name o' the Elephant and Castle ?" he asked, looking in the direction of the well-known hotel and tavern, which serves the double purpose of a landmark and lighthouse to travellers in London. " Well, George," I answered (without reminding him 58 GEORDIE PURDIE IN LONDON. of the castled elephants of India), " I remember that Elihu Burritt, in an interesting chapter on English inns, in his book entitled A Walk from Land's End to John o' Groat's, makes this observation : ' Things are put together on a hundred tavern signs that were never joined together in the natural or moral world, and put together frequently in most grotesque associations.' Perhaps the curious conjunction of the Elephant and Castle is derived from the old Hindoo notion of the earth resting on the back of an elephant, and the elephant on a tortoise ; but what the tortoise rested on, the dusky philosophers failed to conjecture." " Maybe they'll ken something aboot it at the Zoologi- cal Gardens ?" interrogated Geordie, pretty well pleased with his own suggestion. " Perhaps," said I ; "and they should also know some- what about the ' Bull and Mouth,' the ' Dog-in-Doublet,' the ' Brindled Cow,' the ' Green Dragon,' and ' Pop goes the Weasel.' " "Haw! haw!" laughed Geordie; "that's ither five beasts we'll hae to speer about. In oor ain coontry noo it's jist ' M'Gregor's Inn,' or ' M'Nab's Hotel,' or 'Lucky Lockhart's Tavern ;' an', if there's ony variorum, we ne'er gang far ayont the ' Blue Bell,' or ' Cross Keys,' or ' The Croon,' or the ' Plasterers' Arms.' " The car was again bowling along with almost a com- plete change of its live cargo, inside and out. and it caused our friend some wonderment why so many pas- sengers took the trouble of getting up for short distances, when they might save the expense by riding on " shank's naigie." I explained to him that time was an important element PAYING THE WHISTLE. 59 in money-making in London ; that business men who could afford it went dashing about in hansoms from one street to another; and that others who could not pre- ferred the tramway cars or 'buses to walking themselves off their feet. "Ou, ay," he dryly answered, "as the auld sayin' is, * They ride fast wham the deil drives.' " On the conductor coming round for the fares, Geordie would not allow me to pay the few coppers for him, but insisted so resolutely on paying for me that I had to give way. " Never you mind," said he, pulling out and unrolling his purse, which resembled the little bags that children carry their primers in to school ; " keep haud o' yer baw- bees, I'll pay the whussle this time." The conductor was highly amused, and gave me a wink with one of his eyes, which signified, as distinctly as a telegraphic message, that he was aware I had hooked a queer fish. CHAPTER VII. FISTICUFF FIGHT ON WESTMINSTER BRIDGE — PURDIE BREAKS UP THE RING — THE TIDAL MYSTERY OF THE THAMES — LITTLE BLUE-JACKET'S FLIGHT— BIG BEN — PASSING THE LIFE GUARDS- MEN AT WHITEHALL — IN TRAFALGAR SQUARE. When we left the car at the approach of Westminster Bridge, I thought it would be best to walk to Charing Cross, whence frequent 'buses run to Camden Town, and thus give Geordie an opportunity of admiring at leisure the magnificent appearance presented by the Houses of Parliament and the splendid new St Thomas's Hospital standing on opposite sides of the river. Purdie quite approved of this proposal, remarking that he "just wanted tae stretch his legs, an' get the cool air frae the water aboot him, as it was geyan het on the tap o' the car." We had not advanced many paces on the bridge — which I never cross without a feeling of exhilaration, excited by the fine prospect — when we were doomed to witness one of those extemporised fisticuff encounters, which, it is quite safe to say, take place more frequently on the streets of London than in any other town in Europe. How the fights originate, nobody knows ; but all of a FISTIC UFF FIGHT. 6 1 sudden two fellows, coming opposite ways, are seen squaring at each other in regular pugilistic style, and in a twinkling there is an eager ring round them, frequently without any one showing the slightest inclination to in- terfere. Policemen sometimes come "slunching" up when the brief " mill " is over, but they seldom arrest a pair for blackening each other's eyes, or reddening each other's noses and lips in an extemporised fight on the pavement. The two amateur pugilists, on the present occasion, were seedy-looking young men, apparently out of work, and desirous of finding some employment for their hands. One of them, bull-necked and bullet-headed, with a stolid, flat, stupid, and scowling face, was the stouter and stronger of the two, and bore the appearance of having served some years in a butcher's shop, or at Smithfield, as the greasy smutch of his old trade still showed on the sleeves and shoulders of his shabby coat. The other youth, pale and somewhat dissolute-looking, lank in body, but lithe and active, and more cleanly clad than his opponent, might have passed very well for a compositor who had completed his apprenticeship, and who had made up his mind to celebrate the event by a fortnight's idleness and dissipation. The fight was prefaced by no preliminary sparring. Perhaps the two had quarrelled the previous night in some tavern, and perhaps they had never seen each other between the eyes before. Be this as it may, it was the rapid exchange of facers, that were already drawing blood from nose and mouth, which first attracted the notice of passers-by, and caused an instantaneous rush to the scene of action. 62 GEORDIE PUR DIE IN LONDON. In a twinkling there was a ring formed, well-dressed gentlemen shouldering roughs to get to the front, and yelling street Arabs, children of New Cut costers, squeez- ing themselves through at all points, heedless of kicks and cuffs, to become delighted spectators of the fray. The hum and buzz and excited exclamations seemed almost to recall the Surrey Theatre when a scrimmage on the stage rejoices the hearts of the gallery gods. Both of the combatants, though nobody could possibly know what the quarrel was about, had their respective backers in the crowd. "Chop 'im up, Sir Roger !" bawled a hoarse laughing voice to the butcher ; while " 'It 'im 'ard, little un," was addressed by way of encouragement to the panting com- positor, whose activity did not render him a match for his heavier antagonist. Geordie had hitherto remained silent, dumfoundered at first by the suddenness of the fierce and unaccount- able onslaught ; but I saw at a glance, by the working of his face, that his blood was fast heating to the boiling point, and that he had a strong inclination to rush in and put an end to the unequal combat. From more than one previous experience in connec- tion with similar disgraceful " little games " on the public streets of the metropolis, I knew- that little danger was to be apprehended by making a bold and "dexterous flank movement, as the better-dressed onlookers are in the habit of slipping away when they witness an indignant interruption of their amusement, and the rowdies content themselves with letting off the steam of their chagrin in a simultaneous " Ah-h-h-h " or " Boo-oo-oo " of impotent displeasure. Accordingly, I resolved on allowing Geordie BREAKING UP THE RING. 63 to take his swing, with the intention of giving him the best backing-up I could. " Haud oot o' my road, ye yelpin' whulp !" was the first announcement I received that Geordie was already on the move, and he suited the action to the word by taking a lanky lad, who had a hang-dog look, by the nape of the neck, and whirling him, like a " teetotum," out of his way. " Staund aboot there, an' let me in — dae ye no think shame o' yersel's ? " he again exclaimed in an excited voice, still pressing forward, elbowing people to right and left sans geremonie, and making a lane for himself like a brave member of the Fire Brigade advancing to the rescue when a shriek has been heard from the upper window of a burning house. Almost quicker than it takes to tell, our hero Geordie, whom I had some difficulty in keeping up with, forced his passage through the yielding crowd, and planted him- self in a trice between the combatants with the authori- tative air of a policeman in plain clothes. His rustic appearance and the honest indignation expressed in his features might probably have sufficed of themselves to disarm the resentment of the roughs; but there was some- thing in the manner, half-natural and half-affected, with which he glanced first angrily at the one combatant, and then compassionately at the other, that tickled the fancy of the multitude, and Geordie's interference accordingly gave rise to nothing more alarming than derisive laughter and good-humoured badinage. His sudden movement had broken up the ring at once, and the butcher bully, after drawing the back of his still clenched fist across his blood-stained mouth, and wiping it on his trousers, slunk 64 GEORDIE PURDIE IN LONDON. away, as if from the presence of a country Justice, behind the backs of the bystanders, who now filled the space on the pavement that had been kept clear for the " mill," and placed a wide interval between the two fighting cocks. There was a moment or two of pushing and jostling, of the loud shouting and shrill whistling of street boys, as the crowd dispersed in opposite directions, and the last we saw of the affair was the poor compositor — who came out of the combat with swollen lips and blackened eyes — receiving the condolences of two tender-hearted and sympathising charwomen as he leaned against the parapet of the bridge. All this time (but the affair only lasted a few minutes) no policeman entered an appearance, though the fight took place on one of the busiest thoroughfares of the metropolis at an early hour in the afternoon. A short distance off we met two constables walking leisurely along as if they had come out for a quiet constitutional after dinner ; and on looking round I saw that the crowd had already dissolved in the roaring stream of traffic, leaving not a single trace behind. Geordie soon got over his momentary excitement, and laughed well-pleased when I complimented him on the effective "shirra-offisher" air he had assumed on the spur of the moment. " Auld as I am," he said, throwing out his right arm with an energetic jerk, " I could hae thrawn the thick neck o' that vagabond just as cannily as the craig o' a Handsel Monday cock." We had now reached the centre of the bridge, and Geordie, forgetting all about his recent escapade, gave PALACE AND HOSPITAL. 65 vent to admiring ejaculations when I pointed out to him, on right and left, the Palace of Westminster, with the Vic- toria Tower rising to the height of 340 feet, and the splen- did new structure of St Thomas's Hospital, built along the Albert Embankment in a series of symmetrical blocks. "That an hospital for curin' diseases !" he exclaimed; "it's just as graund every bit, an' it werena for the heich toors, as that ither muckle buildin' there on the ither side ye ca' the Palace o' Wastminster ; an' I canna but think that the onweel folk wha are ta'en tae a hoose like that would be great fules if they ever said tae the doctors they were better noo. But what for is this ither buildin', wi' a steeple fowre times heicher than oor ane at Kilpirnie, ca'd a palace ? — does the Queen whiles bide there whun she's no in the Hielants?" " That building, George," I answered, " containing both Houses of Parliament, is called a palace for historical reasons ; but it might also be called a palace like the crystal one you are going to see at Sydenham, because it is a splendid edifice covering an extent of about eight acres of ground, and presenting a noble frontage of nearly nine hundred feet next the river." " Aicht acres o' grund !" he exclaimed in amazement — " the like o' that — it's ae acre bigger, as sure's ye live, than Robbie Suttie's snug bit farm o' Ryefaud." " Which remark," said I, " reminds me of another made by a fellow-countryman of yours and mine who, when surveying the vast extent of London from the top of St Paul's, and seeing the interminable lines of houses stretching away to the horizon all round, prosaically ob- served that ' Lunnon just wastit a dreadfu' heap o' fine land wi' its miles o' brick an' lime.' " E 66 GEORDIE PURDIE IN LONDON. " Haw, haw ! " laughed Geordie, " I micht hae said that mysel', sure eneugh." No sooner were these words uttered than the river seemed suddenly to arrest his attention. The heavily- laden barges and coal-boats were being borne along by the upward flowing tide, and his eyes wandered wonder- ingly from one to another specimen of river-craft as they emerged in. succession from under the arches of the bridge. He had little previous acquaintance with tidal rivers, and the idea of a tide coming so far up from the sea had probably never made any definite lodgment in his mind. Lifting his eyes from the upward-flowing river and the upward-drifting boats, he looked at me inquiringly, and then reverted his gaze to the boats and the river. " What can be the meanin' o' that ? " he asked at last. " the water's no rinnin' the same airt it did whun I was at Chelsea Brig wi' thae twa cairdsharper scoondrels, Cribbage an' Ockum, on baith sides o' me. Disna Chelsea Brig lie up that way, an' Chelsea Hospital tae ?" " Yes," I answered, " away up there, round the bend beyond Vauxhall Bridge." " Weel, the water is noo rinnin' up, an' that day it was rinnin' doon. Hoo can ye accoont for that ? " " Well, George," I said, " it seems rather odd, but just go and ask that little boy who is scrambling up on the parapet, and perhaps he will be able to throw some light on the subject." Geordie did at once as directed, and going up to the boy — a smart little fellow, dressed in the fancy style of a blue-jacket — put this question to him, just as if he had been speaking to a "weel-kent callant" in Kilpirnie, "I LITTLE BL UE-JA CKETS FLIGHT. 6 7 say, my mannie, whether's the water there rinnin' east or wast ? " The boy, who had dropped down on the pavement at his approach, looked suspiciously up in his face with the bewildered look of one who is not quite sure about the querist or the query. Perhaps the odd way in which our friend was wearing his billycock at the time — pretty far back on his head — had also some effect in puzzling the boy. " Can you no tell me, my little cockie," repeated Geordie, going a step nearer, and speaking an octave higher. — " can you no tell me whether the water's rinnin' east or wast ? " The boy, wheeling suddenly round, shook off his blue- ribboned straw hat in his trepidation, but he picked it up in all haste, and ran off as fast as his little twinkling legs would carry him, evidently believing that he had been addressed by an escaped lunatic. This laughable scene gave amusement to some passers- by as well as to myself, and the curious grin on Geordie's face as he returned to where I stood might have formed a fine study for the ready pencil of the late John Leech. "Ye've set me on a gouk's errant," he said, "though it's no the first o' Aprile." "Well," I asked, " why did you forget about the tide? You must often have read in the Fife newspapers how the Oxford and Cambridge boat-crews were sometimes bamboozled by it, in their annual race, as far up the river as Putney and Mortlake. " Ou, confoond the tide — it ran clean oot o' my mind, as I never took a thocht o't comin' upbye past the docks, whaur Davy tells me there are thoosands o' great 68 GEORDIE PURDIE IN LONDON. muckle ships frae a' the ends o' the earth dischargin' and takin' in cargoes. I would like fine to see the docks some day." " Mr Mathieson, or Davy, as you call him, is the very man to take you all over the docks, George. Meanwhile, let us cross over to the other side of the bridge, and have a look at the Victoria Embankment — the. greatest im- provement that has taken place in our time in the metropolis." The traffic on Westminster Bridge is by no means to be compared with the traffic on London Bridge, which is apt to have a distracting effect on provincial strangers, but the number of vehicles on the former is sufficiently great to make a sharp look-out necessary when crossing from pavement to pavement. There is an art in the crossing feat on crowded thoroughfares, as in everything else. Londoners frequently lose their lives or limbs by too great temerity, and strangers by too great timidity. Geordie, I found, was utterly careless, thinking per- haps it was the business of the drivers to have a care of him, and therefore it was necessary to take the precau- tion of keeping a good firm hold of his arm, whether he liked it or not. When we got to the east side of the bridge he was quite pleased with himself for being able to point out the imperial dome of St Paul's in the dis- tance, saying that he " kent it fine frae seein' it often in picture books." The Embankment, with its massive front of masonry facing the river, its broad carriage-drive and side-walks, its pleasant gardens, and long rows of slender young trees, also excited his admiration, as he had a very good eye for the picturesque. " Keep us a' ! " he said, as we walked along, turning his BIG BEN. 69 face from the Embankment to the Houses of Parliament, "what a routh o' siller there maun be in this toun ! " We were fortunate in getting opposite the Palace of Westminster just as Big Ben pealed out two from the clock tower in those superb swelling tones which are heard miles away sounding clear and strong above the mighty city's everlasting din. Far out on southern suburban roads — away beyond Dulwich and Norwood — I have heard the mellow music of his grand peals. "That's Big Ben talking, George," said I; "you must have heard of Ben." " Ay, that have I," he answered. " Losh, man, he's got a famous tongue in his head that micht mak a deaf body hear, an' I sometimes dinna hear very weel mysel'. I used to think there wasna the like o' Muchty auld bell, that I've heard ringin' at aicht o'clock on a simmer nicht sax miles awa', but the soond o' that chap up there dings it tae sticks a'thegither." As I was anxious that our friend should get to the Zoo in good time to witness the feeding of the carnivora, he was obliged to be contented with a passing glance at St Stephen's and Westminster Abbey. Between Palace Yard and Trafalgar Square there was nothing attracted his interest so much as the two tall Life Guards in their glittering helmets and cuirasses, white leather breeches and long boots, reaching to the thigh, sitting sentry on horseback, motionless as statues, at the entrance to the Horse Guards at St James's Park in Whitehall. " Are thae sodgers Scots Greys ? " he asked ; " they look sic grand strappin' chaps, fit to frichten the French, or the Germans either, by the very size o' them, ony day. Or maybe they are what I've heard ca'd Beefeaters, as I 70 GEORDIE PURDIE IN LONDON. dinna think they can ever be far frae hame at denner- time." " Well, George, you have hit the mark pretty well. They are not exactly what we understand by the name of Beefeaters, but they belong to the pampered House- hold Troops, and detachments of these Life ' Guards always accompany Her Majesty on state occasions. A gallant show they make, clattering along the streets on splendid horses with their helmets flashing in the sun. Some people may think them more ornamental than useful, as they are never sent out of the country to face a foe, except when the emergency is great ; but no one can speak of them with contempt as carpet knights, when he recalls the doughty deeds of Shaw, the gallant Life Guardsman, at Waterloo." " Ay," quoth Geordie, giving a parting look of admira- tion at the two mounted sentries, " that was the sort o' battle for sodgers like they twa billies to ride slashin' aboot in, cuttin' aff the heads o' the French as if they had been tattie-aipples." Just as we approached Trafalgar Square, we were over- taken by one of the yellow 'buses which run between Westminster Bridge and the Red Cap in Camden Town. Geordie "peched" a good deal in mounting the perpen- dicular ladder-like steps leading to the deck-seats on the top of the 'bus, and looked behind him as if he thought there ought to have been a refreshment-bar at the corner. He was quite satisfied, however, when, on sitting down by his side, I promised him a cooler at the Red Cap — claret, with lemon in it, that would " slocken " his system without perhaps sending a "stang" through his auld teeth like the ice-creams at Battersea Park. TRAFALGAR SQUARE FOUNTAINS. 71 From our somewhat uneasy perch — the discomfort of which was more palpably felt after our ride on the tram- way car — Geordie surveyed with delighted eyes (he had capital eyesight, and never needed spectacles) the noble open space of Trafalgar Square, with its Nelson's column and colossal lions, its statues of Indian heroes, and spouting fountains sparkling in the sun, singing as they spout — "Click ! click ! clickety click ! Come where the Tritons play ; Dashingly, plashingly — Plashingly, dashingly, Come be a Triton gay." He remained silent until he passed the massive portico of St Martin's-in-the-Fields, and entered upon the dingy defile of St Martin's Lane ; but the graphic manner in which be afterwards described it to his daughter showed that he had taken, in a few minutes, an accurate mental photograph of the Square, that may be called the Forum of London democrats and Leicester Square republicans. CHAPTER VIII. SEVEN DIALS — FOLLOWING THE FIRE ENGINES — GEORDIE IN HIGH FEATHER — GERMAN TOURISTS — "WHAT'S YOUR WULL?" — TIP- CAT — DOLLY VARDENS IN THE TRAMWAY CAR — CAMDEN TOWN AND MOTHER RED CAP — ANECDOTE OF PURDIE. The earnestness with which Geordie applied himself to his snuff-box showed that he was not quite satisfied with the sudden change from the broad expanse and free air of Trafalgar Square, to the narrowness and some- what squalid aspect of the streets leading via Seven Dials to Oxford Street and Tottenham-court-road. I explained to him that a new broad thoroughfare, connecting Charing Cross with Oxford Street, has been long in con- templation, and that the old smoke-blackened rookeries we saw on either hand would probably soon be swept out of sight. In Great and Little St Andrew's Streets, which resemble some of the third-rate streets in the Old Town of Edinburgh, Geordie's attention was distracted between the groups of dirty children leaning and squalling over the open windows, and the immense number of cages, containing birds, squirrels, rabbits, and other animals disposed in front of the dingy little shops. " Haud in yer head, woman !" he shouted lustily, to a miserable-looking gin-drinker, who was hanging half out SEVEN DIALS. 73 of a window, with a helpless hold of the still more wretched-looking child sprawling by her side. But the noise on the street, and the harsh screams of an Australian cockatoo in a green cage, quite drowned his warning voice. " Nelly needna be lang in want o' a parrot to tak the place o' her pretty Poll, as she ca's it, that dee'd a fort- nicht syne — see ! there's haill fowre o' them, wi' red breasts an' green backs an' wings, a' sittin' as solemn as elders at a session-meetin', on ae spoke, an' no savin' a single word either." Scarcely had he finished speaking when a boy, passing along the pavement, poked the point of his cane between the bars of the cage, and the four irritated parrots set up a simultaneous scream and chatter. " A' swearin' at ance noo, like sae mony fishwives," exclaimed Geordie. " And very unlike elders," I rejoined. " Haw ! haw ! ye hae me there ! " There was nothing specially attractive in the region of the Seven Dials — so called on account of its once being the centre of seven diverging streets ; — and it was a pleasant relief when our yellow-painted 'bus wheeled into the sunny glare of broad and busy Oxford Street, making right across for the top of Tottenham-court-ioad, where a stoppage of a few minutes takes place for the purpose of picking up fresh passengers. As we were in the act of crossing, with our faces looking westward, Geordie shaded his eyes with his billycock, and, peering from under the brim along the wide stretch of crowded causeway and pavement, proclaimed it to be the "liveliest sicht he had yet seen in Lunnon." 74 GEORDIE PURDIE IN LONDON. No sooner had we got to our " stance " than the 'bus was surrounded by a bevy of boys, selling fusee-boxes and newspapers, calling out in their peculiar shrill sing- song, "Ec-ho," " Te-le-graph," "Stan-dard," and "Dai-ly News." All at once, drowning these piping voices, there was the sound of a great hullabaloo in Oxford Street, and on turning quickly round we saw, clattering past at full speed, with their brass helmets glittering in the sun, a division of the London Fire Brigade, followed by a yelling mob of gamins and roughs, who scent fire by night or by day as eagerly as sleuth-hounds scent blood. Purdie got down from his perch with an alacrity which contrasted curiously with the slowness of his ascent at Charing Cross, and it was just as well he had me hard at his heels, otherwise he might have gone after the rabble rout as far as the Marble Arch. It looked as if the cry of " Fire ! " had set himself on fire. I seized him by the arm, showed him that the fire-engines were already quarter-of-a-mile ahead, and convinced him that, as no dense cloud of smoke could be seen anywhere in the air, the fire might be far off at some of the palatial mansions in Bayswater. " I would like graund tae see a fire in Lunnon," he said, reluctantly re-ascending to his perch on the 'bus, " though 1 daresay it would be mair fearfu'-lookin' after nicht-fa'." " Your wish is very likely to be gratified, George," I said, " because there is seldom a day or a night passes without half-a-dozen fires breaking out somewhere in the metropolis." We were now under way along Tottenham-court-road GERMAN TOURISTS. 75 — a long stretch of street, with shops on each side — and Geordie, whom the excitement of the passing fire-engines had kindled up, was in high feather, talking and guffawing in a hearty manner, that had a perceptible effect in enlivening our fellow-passengers, now considerably in- creased in number after the stoppage at Oxford Street. The rows of carcases hanging on hooks in the open air, at butcher's shops, caused him to make remarks, more plain than polite, on what he called the " gutsyness " of the Londoners — remarks which, though only partially understood, were rather unpalatable to some of his neighbours, and evoked pretty sharp retorts. But Geordie was never at a loss when the whisky-drinking habits of the Scotch were flung in his teeth. " Oor folk," he said to a fat talkative fellow-passenger, who sat on his left, " oor folk can tak aff a dram an' be dune wi'd, but in this toun ye staund for hours ahint coonters drinkin' oot o' pint pewter pats bitter ale, or a mixture o' ale an' stoot, or that scunnerin' stuff ca'd *■ cooper,' which minds me o' the sindin's o' barrels ; an' for as muckle's. ye drink, yer drouth never seems tae come tae an end." On my right there sat two Germans, probably bound like ourselves for the Zoological Gardens, which foreigners always make a point of visiting when they come to Lon- don. One of the two, who wore green spectacles, and who would therefore require to allow for change of colour in forming impressions of what he saw, looked wise and learned enough to be a Bonn or Gottingen professor out for his autumnal holidays. The smattering of German I have was sufficient to enable me to understand that Geordie was a puzzler to the Teutons, and that they were 76 GEORDIE PURDIE IN LONDON. half inclined to consider him (from his strong guttural pronunciation of such words as "licht" and " dockter") to be an expatriated Bavarian or Wurtemberger. The green-spectacled professor at last addressed me, after consulting with his companion, in the ludicious German-English which the inimitable " Breitmann Bal- lads " of Mr Leland have made familiar to the public. I will only give one specimen of the kind of language he used, as the conversation he commenced would be as tedious to read as it was difficult for me to understand at times the drift of his questions and remarks. "Vat ist den contry ov zuur froinde?" he asked. In reply, I told him that my friend was a Scotsman, ' and that the words he used formed the vernacular of Fifeshire. He then expressed a desire to visit that county, as he thought the affinity between the dialect there spoken and the German tongue was very close indeed, and well deserved philological investigation. I advised him to put a simple question in German to Purdie, to see if the sound would lead to an under- standing of the sense, but the result did not warrant a repetition of the experiment, as the blunt response was, " What's your wull ? " Of course it was quite impossible for me to smother the laughter which this Fifish reply produced, and the learned German professor, imagining perhaps that some insult had been offered to the flag of the Vaterland, turned away his spectacled visage, and resumed con- versation with his countryman. A lengthened stoppage we had half-way down Totten- ham-court-road, waiting till two elderly ladies in mourn- ings hobbled up to the 'bus, enabled Geordie to witness TIP-CAT. 77 from his perch yet one more of the pranks which the gamins are in the habit of playing on the streets of Lon- don. I must give the description in his own words, as I heard him relating it one evening afterwards to Davy and Nelly in the snug parlour at Gladstone Row. " I saw," he said, " a wheen laddies playin' at a new kind o' a game. Ilka ane had a short stick in his haund, an' a bit wud made sma' at ane o' the ends laid doon on the causey. The callants gied it a clink on the sma' end wi' the stick, an' gard it spin heich up in the air ; but the third time they tried it the piece o' wud played reeshle through a grocer's shop window, an' the vaga- bonds tuk a' at anes tae their heels as fast as they could whinner. Twa women cam spankin' oot o' the shop like tae break their necks, an' the rate they ran at alang the pavement, screichin ' Perlice ! Perlice ! ' made the butcher laddies neist door — lukin' after them — like tae spleet their sides wi' lauchter. Thinks I, my lads, yer something like Tammy Grant's cuddie — ye lauch at a' mischief." At Euston-road — another great thoroughfare, running east and west, where Tottenham-court-road ends and Hampstead-road begins — I thought we might as well leave the jolting 'bus and take once more to the tram- way, which has reached thus far on its way to Oxford Street from Camden Town. Its further progress is opposed in the meantime by some of the larger shop- keepers in Tottenham-court-road, who have an idea that the extension of the tramways might have the effect of taking customers past their premises, and who do not scruple to allow their private interests to stand in the way of public improvement. But drapers and general 78 GEORDIE PURDIE IN LONDON. dealers, locally influential though they may be as vestry- men and workhouse guardians, must all yield to the inevitable in the long-run. Purdie was quite pleased when I told him we were going back again to a tramway car. He could not find room to " spelder " out his legs on the 'bus, and the fre- quent joltings made him feel as if he might be pitched headforemost on to the causeway. In passing our two German friends to reach the ladder-like steps at the rear, he trode accidentally on the toes of the blue-spectacled philosopher, and elicited, by way of parting salutation, an ejaculatory — " Ach, mein Gott ! Herr Schotisman ! " For the sake of a little variety we got inside the tram- way car this time, and Geordie in piloting his course to an unoccupied space on the cushioned seat at the upper end, seemed as awkward in the presence of the gaily- dressed ladies, who formed the majority of the passengers, as a country squire at his first State ball when some " good-natured friend " leads him up the whole length of the bewildering room. The sigh of relief which escaped our friend as he " dunted " down opposite me — casting anchor next the sliding glass door, outside which stood the driver with the reins in hand — sounded distinctly through the whole length of the car, and tickled the risibility of three sisters, all dressed alike in blue silk, to such an extent that they pressed their snowy handkerchiefs to their lips at one and the same time, and tried to smother their silvery giggle into something that resembled a delicate cough. Fortunately Geordie was too much occupied looking at the driver plying his whip, to notice that he had afforded THREE DOLLY VARDENS. 79 momentary amusement to three fashionably-attired young ladies in Dolly Varden hats. As these young ladies were evidently full to the brim with innocent mirth, which would require very little tapping to make it flow forth in a laughing gush, I was rather satisfied to observe that Geordie continued looking through the glass, and maintained discreet silence for a time. Soon, however, as the natural result of too much snuffing, he required to use his large coloured pocket- handkerchief, and I observed that the curious manner in which he first stretched it out to its full breadth, and then twisted it in folds around his right hand before applying it to its legitimate purpose, caused one at least of the young ladies to bite her under lip, and the terrible sound he sent forth, as if his nose had been a trom- bone, fairly upset the three mirthful boarding-school mademoiselles. Even the pallid face of a black-hooded Sister of Mercy, who sat in a remote corner, betrayed the momentary presence of a fleeting sensation of fun. Geordie, meanwhile, closely occupied with the business in hand, was quite unconscious of having done anything to provoke girlish laughter or move to tears. I observed that the young ladies — whose giggling propensities drew down upon them the scrutinizing gaze of all the stout matrons and old maids in the car — kept casting furtive glances at every movement, as if they were " takin' notes " for caricature description to their companions in the drawing-room. Brisk as he had been when we were sitting together outside, George seemed rather cowed by the presence of so many ladies, elderly, middle-aged, and young, and the remarks he made were not only few and far between, but pitched on a lower key than his usual tone of voice. 80 GEORDIE PURDIE IN LONDON. Just after passing Mornington Crescent — a beautiful green oasis in the wilderness of brick, with the sunshine flickering through its full-foliaged trees — I pointed out to him on the other side the statue erected in memory of Richard Cobden, at the head of High Street, Camden Town, and he made the very sensible remark, that there were " ower few moniments tae men o' peace like him, an' ower mony tae men o' war like Wellington." He looked out with evident interest on the High Street when I told him that, on Saturday nights, the side to our left was one continuous blaze of gas-jets in front of the shops, and of the flaming paraffin lamps and torches of costermongers, whose stalls and barrows were ranged in a long row outside the curb, while the pave- ment was so crowded with people intent on their pur- chases of provisions for Sunday, that it was difficult to make any headway, unless one would run the risk of taking the " croon o' the causey." I also told him that the Babel of voices — shopkeepers and costermongers alike shouting out the excellence of their goods and wares, and the loud " Buy ! buy ! buy ! " of the butchers breaking out every minute — was hardly to be surpassed in any other part of London. In short, I made him aware that High Street, Camden Town, on a Saturday night, would give him a very good idea of the style of doing business in London in the days of James I., so graphically described by Scott in the Fortunes of Nigel, when Jenkin Vincent, and Frank Tunstall, apprentices to David Ramsay, watchmaker to his Majesty within Temple Bar, kept singing out to passers-by, "What d'ye lack? — What d'ye lack? — clocks — watches — barnacles? — What d'ye lack, sir? — What d'ye lack, CLARET AT THE RED CAP. 81 madam ? — barnacles — watches — clocks ? " Geordie thought he would like to see and hear something of that sort, and I advised him to request his son-in-law to take him to the New Cut, which was much nearer Gladstone Row, and which might serve his purpose quite as well. On the tramway-car pulling up at the Red Cap (called so for brevity, Mother Red Cap being the full name), we were preceded in our exit by the three young ladies in sky-blue silks and Dolly Vardens, who could not resist the temptation, so keen was their curiosity, of looking over their shoulders to see how the funny man from the country conducted himself when he stood on his legs on the street. A Cockney would perhaps have lifted his hat to them and smiled, but we took the more sensible course of walking across the pavement to the bar of the Red Cap, where the drivers of cars, and 'buses, and carts were hob-nobbing together in a friendly and somewhat hilarious manner. Purdie had not forgotten his promised cup of claret ; and we had it spooned out to us from a large punch- bowl, in which slices of lemon were floating like miniature rafts in a coloured sea. I cannot say that he seemed to relish it overmuch, though to me it felt delightfully re- freshing on a sunny afternoon that was sufficiently warm to bring out beads of perspiration on the brow. One of the dignified matronly ladies inside the car had persisted in having all the windows closed, and this made a cooling drink like claret all the more welcome. It was Geordie's teeth that prevented him from enjoy- ing the beverage thoroughly, and when the publican saw him putting on a wry face, and inquired the cause, he recommended a thimbleful of rum, or brandy " neat," as F 82 GEORDTE PURDIE IN LONDON. an infallible cure. Silence gave consent, and our friend, " clapping in his cheek " a small glass of pale brandy, kept it there for half a minute or so, till he was able to proclaim himself " a' richt again." Here, in this connection, I may as well record a very good anecdote of Geordie that was communicated to me by a mutual friend. One day, a good many years ago, when suffering severely from toothache, he went in desperation to the surgery of Dr Bellamy, of Kilpirnie, to get the offend- ing tooth extracted with the greatest possible despatch, and the least possible pain. The kind-hearted doctor, who treated even his toughest patients with the tender- ness due to a child, held an inquest over Purdie's open mouth, and after examining it as carefully as the gurgle of restrained howls would admit, was compelled at last to ask the question — "Which tooth is it, Geordie, for they seem to be all bad alike ? " "Aweel," he answered, resignedly, and with readiness of wit worthy of an Irishman — " Ye'll better just clear the shelf r From the Red Cap in Camden Town, a short walk of about a quarter of a mile in all, took us to the carriage- drive on the outskirts of the spacious Regent's Park, and the northern entrance of the Zoological Gardens. CHAPTER IX. IN THE ZOO — PURDIE'S IMPRESSIONS OF FEEDING-TIME — THE DANCING-BEAR — A SHOWER-BATH FROM THE SEA-LION — MEETING OF TWO FIFERS — KIFFY CAIRNS. No sooner had Geordie and I paid our entrance-fee — one shilling a-piece — and passed through the turnstile into the Gardens than we were compelled to be the in- voluntary witnesses of the truth of Burns's lines — "The best laid schemes o' mice and men Gang aft a-glee." A pale-faced, long-haired gentleman — who had just pre- ceded us, and who was accompanied by his wife and half-a-dozen little boys and girls — had evidently made up his mind to go through the gardens in a methodical manner, with guide-book in hand, beginning with the western aviary, and passing on from house to house, from pond to pond, from shed to shed, with the de- liberate purpose of an amateur in natural history, who desires to make additions to his stock of scientific know- ledge. But he soon found out that there were wills and aims stronger than his own in the active frames of his little children, the eldest of whom, notwithstanding their numbers, did not seem to be more than eight years of age. S4 GEORDIE PURDIE IN LONDON. While the learned gentleman, standing a little way within the gate, was engaged in explaining the guide- book plan of the Gardens to his docile wife, the impatient brood had fluttered off in all directions, and soon again they returned, one at a time, two twos at a time, and three at a time with breathless tidings. " Oh, mamma ! " there was shouted from one side, " do come and see these strange creatures with such spindle-shanks and long spoons of bills." " Oh, papa ! " there was shouted from another side, " come this way, come this way ! — do come ! — this is the way to the monkey-house ! " These are but a sample of the excited exclamations that greeted the ears of the two sedate parents, as they pored with their heads to- gether over the plan of the Gardens. Papa looking up, with mild dismay depicted on his pale studious face, tried coaxing remonstrance, tried the bribery of a pro- mise of buns at the refreshment-house ; but it was all in vain, and we soon had the satisfaction of seeing the plan folded up, and the two resigned parents led away by their delighted children. " Maybe," quoth Geordie, who had been an interested spectator of this amusing family scene, "we micht dae waur than just tak' the same gate. Bairns are aft en unco gleg in findin' oot first what aulder folk would like to see." " We can follow them so far, George," I replied ; " but they are bound for the monkey-house, be sure, while we are in good time to see the carnivora get their four o'clock feed of raw flesh." "The car-ni-vor-a," he said, speaking slowly and thoughtfully. " Ou, I hae it noo — that'll be the lions, an' PELICAN'S "NEBS." 85 teegers, an' leopards, an' bears, an' sic-like. I mind fine o' seein' some o' thae kinds o' wuld beasts lang-syne at Cupar, whun a man, ca'd Van Amburg, gaed through the haill o' Fife wi' his menagerie. As sure's ye're there, he muntit a' by himsel' intae their den wi' an eiron rod in his haund, an' a pistol stickin' in his waistbaund. He gard the beasts loup through girds ; an' no content wi' thae fearfu' pranks, he lay doon among them, wi' his head on an auld lion's shouther, an' opened up its jaws to let the folk see its twa terrible raws o' teeth." These words were spoken as we walked along the shrubbery-bordered path to the left, and approached the pelicans' inclosure. " Surely," said Geordie, in meditative mood, " the folk that planned this place, wi' its walks an' shrubberies an' floors, mun hae been thinkin' o' what the Garden o' Eden was like afore Eve put oot her haund an' pu'd the for- bidden frute, though there would be nae need for dens an' cages at that time, whun the lion, they say, was as harmless as a lammie. But look here ! — look here ! — look at thae lang-leggit, lang-nebbit fools [Fifish for fowls'] — what may they be ca'd ? " "These are pelicans, George — the pelicans of the wilderness mentioned in the Book of Psalms." " Aweel, they're oot o' the wilderness noo, at ony rate, wi' a' thae trees an' bushes aboot them, an' a muckle stane troch tae wade in withoot needin' tae pull up their breeks — but what awfu' nebs they hae ! They mind me o' a very gude answer I gat frae Sandy Swan ae day. We were canglin' aboot the length o' a rape, an' says I tae Sandy, 'An inch is neither here nor there — it mak's very little difference.' " 86 GEORDIE PURDIE IN LONDON. U I 'Ay, that it does,' said he pawkily, « on a nose P " Sandy mun hae seen a pelican's neb afore he could answer sae weel." " Or the still more extraordinary beaks of the horn- bills over here," I said, leading Purdie a few paces on- wards to the spacious eastern aviary, where there is a fine collection of these singular birds. But it was the dandified flamingoes, in another com- partment a little further on, that most of all roused his curiosity and excited his admiration. Their long, thin, stilt-like legs, their bunches of brilliant feathers for bodies, their gracefully-poised little heads, and majestic mincing motions, held him as if spell-bound for some minutes, gazing wonderingly through the bars of their colossal cage. No operatic prima donna could hope to equal the flamingoes in their superb strut, or the coquettish pose of their necks and heads when standing at ease on the brink of their bath. The growl of the great carnivora, as their dinner-hour approached, compelled me, however, to rouse George from his reverie of wonder, and we directed our steps, without further pause, to the dens of the wild beasts. On account of the fineness of the afternoon there was a large number of visitors, and the block of brick build- ings which contained the fiercest of the fercz naturae. became the centre of attraction as feeding-time drew nigh. The children as usual were in the highest state of excitement, quite full of what they had already seen, but anxious to see more. There were frequent pulls at the dresses of rotund, red-faced matrons to quicken their steps, and the hapless fathers of unruly school-boys, while having their arms almost tugged from their sockets, FEEDING-TIME. 87 were obliged to submit quietly to the further indignity of being told by their hopeful progeny to " Look alive ! " I pointed out to George the numerous warnings posted up — "Beware of pickpockets ! " "Pickpockets, beware!" — and he immediately proceeded to button up his coat, expressing regret that there was not room in the crown of his billycock, as there would have been in his high- crowned hat, to keep his snuffy pocket-handkerchief out of harms way. The carnivora in their ranges of dens or cages — lions, tigers, leopards, jaguars, and hyenas — were all in the same state of rapacious expectancy, pacing impatiently backwards and forwards, and only stopping at intervals to claw the bars, or open their fierce jaws with a growl of discontent. The lion and lioness were in separate dens, as the lady had a litter of cubs to nurse, and the forest king, bereft of his consort and family, was evidently ill at ease, besides feeling the cravings of hunger and blood- thirst. Every other minute he flung himself up at full length with his forepaws grasping the bars of the cage, and gave loud growling roars that sent the little girls scattering about in terror and dismay. What Geordie's impressions of feeding time were may be best gathered from his own words as I heard him afterwards detailing the incidents of the day to his daughter and son-in-law in their Battersea home. " I got as near as I could for the crood," he said, '• keepin' my coat weel buttoned, and puttin' my haund intae my pooch noo an' then to see that my neepkin was a' richt. I saw a man wi' a saw an' a chapper- knife hackin' an' cuttin' awa' at some carcases, an' layin' the bits on a brod, just mindin' me, in the way he gaed 88 GEORDIE PURDIE IN LONDON. to wark, o' Willie Cook cuttin' up swine for the bacon barrel. Weel, the muckle pieces o' raw flesh and banes, an' no very fresh either, were forked into the dens by the keepers, an' the ravenous beasts, I can tell ye, didna tak' lang tae devoor their denner. It was just a tear an' a crunch, an' owre craig an' gaw gaed ane after anither, the pieces o' meat, like snaw meltin' aff a' dyke ; an' a' the time they were eatin,' the een o' the animals were lowin' like caunles in their heads. I couldna help thinkin' what a fearfu' sicht it mun hae been to see the lions worryin' an' munchin' the banes o' the puir man that was maist eaten up roup-an'-stoup in a menagerie in an English toun as I was readin' aboot in the papers a while syne." With the exception of the lion-cubs — " amusin' cusses," as Artemus Ward might call them — the series of bears, including the brown, the black American, the Syrian, the Himalayan, the Japanese, the Malayan, and the Polar, seemed to excite Geordie's curiosity more than all the rest of the carnivora. "There's a pawkiness in their faces," he said, "ye'll no see in the ither wuld beasts, an' they look as if they would like tae inveigle ye in aside them just to keep them company." One of the bears, a huge beast with a sly sardonic grin on its face, threw Purdie into a fit of irrepressible laughter, as it planted its fore-paws high up on the front bars of the cage, and commenced dancing on its hind legs, making a monstrous plop, plop, plop, plop, as its great round feet plashed on the wet floor of its domicile. There was something intensely ludicrous in the per- formance, which the bear added to by turning his face SEA-LIONS' GAMBOLS. 89 from side to side as if expecting applause, and the laughter of our friend, spreading contagiously among the onlookers, was caught up by the juvenile visitors in shrieks of delight. I had told Geordie about the sea-lion, and he ex- pressed a wish to witness the gambols of that remarkable creature before we visited the monkey-house. On our way, we passed the zebra and antelope houses, and the enclosure for cranes, and found a considerable number of people gathered about the huge circular tank, where the sea-lion or eared-seal — conveyed from the Falkland Islands some years ago by Francois Lecomte — was holding high revelry in the water, now flopping up with a sudden splash against the railings which surround the pond, and anon plunging headlong under the surface in the very ecstacy of enjoyment. A smaller species of the eared-seal from the Cape accompanied the big one in her gambols ; and the two did really seem in a fine flow of spirits, intent on having an afternoon of jolly fun. Like many men of his class, brought up in country districts, and accustomed to rambles in woods and out- of-the-way places, Geordie had a natural taste for natural history, and could tell more than the writers of some scientific treatises about the habits of moles, " whutrets " (ferrets), " water-rottens," and so forth. It is not surprising, therefore, that the big sea-lion, with her black bullet-head, whiskered mouth, and great finny flappers, dashing and diving about the pond, as if half-delirious with delight, should make him open wide his eyes and mouth in astonishment. There is a notice up warning visitors not to go too near the railings, if they wish to avoid the shower-baths which follow the 90 GEORDIE PURDIE IN LONDON. sudden bounds of the spirited animal right out of the water and up against the protecting barrier of the pond. This notice Geordie thought fit to hold in contempt, and accordingly when he was standing in the attitude de- scribed, with open eyes and mouth, he got a regular " souser " right in the face, which made him sputter like a bather who has inhaled a mouthful of salt froth. There was merriment, of course, on the part of those who had escaped the infliction, but some of them were not long in being in much the same predicament ; and ladies had to condole with each other on the drenching their gay dresses received. On one of the occasions, when the sea-lion flopped up to the railings, the keeper, with whom she appeared to be on very friendly terms, gave the bullet-headed creature a kiss, and spoke to her in a familiar way words which she seemed to understand. A gentleman who was close by, seeing the large sea-lion so affable, put out his hand for the purpose of stroking her bare black head ; but the keeper warned him to desist, otherwise he might find his arm seized in a trice by tenacious teeth. "What! is the fish-beast a cannibal?" asked Geordie, in some trepidation. "Well, it would have no objections to a human loin," I replied, "being as fond of animal food as the four- footed flesh-eaters that prowl about on the solid land." " Gude day t'ye, then, ye ugly, black-a-vised monster !" exclaimed George, turning on his heel, and feeling some resentment at the animal, I imagined, for splashing him in the face. " Now for the ' Puggies ' Palace,' " I said ; and as we retraced our steps along the walk, I began to make some KIFFY CAIRNS. 91 observations, suggested by the present and former visits to the Zoo, on the great diversity of habits, character, and modes of life exhibited by the inmates of the Gardens, referring by way of illustration to the great contrast be- tween the Indian badger pacing round and round and round the stone basin in the centre of his den, with his slouching head pointed to the ground, and the sea-lion we had just seen tumbling joyously about, as if luxuriating in the refreshment of a marble bath ; but my praise- worthy attempt to originate talk which might have drawn forth some of Purdie's original views on the mysteries of the brute creation, was suddenly cut short by the sound of his excited voice, exclaiming — " There's Kiffy Cairns, as sure as death ! I ken him yet fu' weel by the very cut o' his jib." " Who the deuce is Kiffy Cairns ?" I inquired, thinking, perhaps, that Geordie had, in an absent-minded fit, re- cognised some resemblance to an " auld acquaintance " in the face of a zebra or an antelope. " That's him, wi' the woman by his side, comin' up this way richt foment us there. Dae ye no mind o' hearin' o' Kiffy Cairns, the youngest son o' Malcolm Cairns, the laird o' Loanfit, gettin' himsel' intae a bonny scrape aboot — weel, the least said the soonest mendit — an' makin' himsel' scarce, as mony a ane has dune afore an' since for nae waur or better reason — takin' the boat frae Leith to Lunnon, some folk wha hae a sharp scent wud threap at the time — and noo I mind fine o' hearin' Davie Rattray tellin' the minister ae kirk-meetin' nicht, a wheen years syne, that the lad had slippit intae a canny berth amon' the wuld beasts in thir very Gardens here." " I remember the ' auld laird o' Loanfit ' quite well, 92 GEORDIE PURDIE IN LONDON. and also of hearing about one of his sons leaving home in haste ; but how can you recognise him so readily after many years ? — he must be greatly changed in ap- pearance. However, here he comes. Say to him, like King Duncan in Macbeth addressing Rosse — 'Whence comest thou, worthy Thane?' and if the answer be, ' From Fife, great King ! ' you may be cocksure you have caught your fish." " Haw ! haw ! haw ! " laughed Geordie, and the hearty familiar ring of his voice arrested the steps of the man we met just as he was about to pass by with the woman, who turned out to be his wife. " Geordie Purdie, I declare ! " " Kiffy Cairns, I'm sure !" And after speaking these few words of mutual recogni- tion, the two Fifers, one elderly and the other approach- ing middle-age, stood in the centre of the walk with a " grip " of each other's hands, and looking kindly, steadily, wonderingly, laughingly, in each other's faces. I wished I had been a painter to transfer the pair to canvas on the spot. " Hoo's a' wi' ye, an' hoo hae ye been this lang time?" Geordie at length inquired ; and he got back his change in the good old sterling coin of Fife — " Fine, thenk ye ; an' hoo are ye, an' hoo hae ye been yersel' ? " It was worth while coming from one end of London to the other, if for no other purpose than to hear this homely greeting of two natives of " the kingdom." There was no dry formal introduction needed to make us all soon acquainted with each other. Kiffy was a strong, broad-shouldered man, rather above the medium height, with a good Scotch face, florid in hue to cor- MAN AND WIFE. 93 respond with the sandy colour of his hair, whiskers, and beard. He wore a white and black checked straw hat, a red and black checked woollen shirt, a pilot coat of light material, and grey doeskin vest and trousers, pre- senting in his tout ensemble the appearance of a man who was not far from the scene of his daily occupation. Whatever the escapade was which led to his taking French leave of Fife, there was nothing sinister in the cast of his features or the expression of his face — nothing but the steady, straightforward, intelligent look of one accustomed to go through his routine of duty in a methodical sort of manner. His wife, whom he was " convoying " through the Gardens on her way home, was perhaps a few years younger than himself, and was dressed in the plain but respectable style befitting her station. She had a pleasant enough face, though some- what long and pale, and the first words she uttered sufficed to make me aware that she was a Londoner born. Kiffy informed us, in reply to Geordie's queries, that he was one of the keepers employed in connection with the elephant-house, where the rhinoceroses also have their habitation ; and before parting he promised to meet us there, when, in the course of our rounds, we walked through the tunnel under the public drive to the outer section of the Gardens. CHAPTER X. THE MONKEY-HOUSE — THEFT OF PURDIE's SNUFF-BOX BY A MON- KEY—SCENE IN THE CAGE— USES OF TAILS — THE FEATHERED FLESH-EATERS — PURCHASE OF PLUMS AT AN OPEN-AIR BUFFET — PRIMROSE HILL — AMONG PARROTS AND COCKATOOS. As we were about entering the monkey-house — a light, sunny, and spacious structure, fitted up in the style of a conservatory, from which there issued the cries, chatter, and occasional harsh screams of the inmates, mingled with the delighted laughter of children — I drew Purdie's attention to the notice-boards, one of which admonishes gentlemen with glasses not to approach too near the cages. " Ay, weel, ye'll hae tae mind that yersel','' he said, "for I see ye pit on yer specs whiles whun ye want tae look at onything unco particular." He was much amused when I told him it was not an uncommon occurrence for spectacled gentlemen, like our friend the inquisitive German professor, to be deprived of their glasses by nimble-fingered monkeys, and subjected to the additional indignity of observing the outrageous animals, seated far aloft and at ease, trying to make the same use as themselves of the pilfered pairs of spectacles. If he had known anything about the Darwinian theory he THE IMPUDENT MONKEY. 95 might have cited this as a corroborative proof or illustra- tion of the monkey origin of man. No sooner had we passed from the fresh air into the lively interior of the monkey-house, than Geordie com- menced a series of sniffings, which increased in intensity, until he relieved himself by the remark — " What a heat an' heavy smell there is in this place ! " The heat was that of an ordinary conservatory on a warm afternoon, and the heavy smell, which even pene- trated our friend's nostrils through their strata of snuff, was a curious compound of the scents of tropical plants and flowers, and the somewhat unsavoury effluvia that is always emitted by the cages of monkeys, whether they belong to the CatarrJmice or Platyrrhincz groups of the zoologists. Without thinking for a moment of the effect the glitter of his tin " mull " might have upon the cupidity of the inmates of the neighbouring cage, I innocently enough advised Purdie to take a good snuff by way of antidote to the unfamiliar combination of smells, which seemed to make him feel as if he had put his nose all at once into the atmosphere of a foreign country. This well-meant advice was no sooner given than he acted upon it with alacrity, taking the box from his vest pocket, and tapping it on the lid before opening it up, as the manner still is of good old snuffers in these de- generate days. But while thus engaged, talking admir- ingly the while of the splendid appearance which the tropical blooms imparted to the " Puggie's Palace," the supple fingers and long hairy arm of a mischief-loving monkey came darting suddenly through the nearest bars ; and Geordie was deprived of his snuff-box quite as cleverly 96 GEORDIE PURDIE IN LONDON. as studious naturalists are sometimes relieved of their spectacles. The theft was perpetrated so smartly, when his eyes were in another direction, that he wheeled round in bewilderment, shouting " Thieves ! thieves!" evidently thinking that he had been victimised by some of the pickpockets, of whom visitors to the Gardens are warned to beware. His exclamation drew quite a little crowd to the spot, and loud was the laughter, especially of the children — who clapped their hands and danced about in perfect glee — when I pointed out the comical arrant thief sitting on the highest perch of the huge cage, and clasping the tin box in both paws, as if he had come un- expectedly into possession of something he had been looking for all his previous life. The impudent monkey — what other words could suit him so well ? — was ap- parently in no hurry to open the lid. He kept turning the box round and round and upside down, examining it curiously, and keeping a sharp look-out to see that none of his jealous companions got near enough to deprive him of his prize. At last, after a good deal of fumbling and some im- patient chattering screams, he succeeded in opening the lid, and then, cautiously prying inside, drew forth the bone nose-spoon or "snuff-pen," which dropped at once from his fingers into a platter of monkey's meat down below on the floor of the cage. Closer went his nose to the open box, but immediately, on feeling the effects of the pungent flavour of its contents, he let it fall with a clatter into the dish underneath, and swung himself hastily, by the aid of a rope, to a lower perch, sniffing, sneezing, and jabbering angrily over the mistake he had unwittingly made. THE STOLEN SNUFF-BOX. 97 " Sairs him richt weel ! " cried Geordie, " the ill-faured theivin' loon ; he's no a bit better than the street vaga- bonds that gang aboot stealin' neepkins an' watches. Nae doot, judgin' frae the look o' him, whun he gaed spinnin' and skirtin' awa up tae the tap spoke there, he thocht he had laid claucht on something fine, but he has fund oot his mistak' — hear at him — haw ! haw ! haw ! — he's no dune sneezin' yet, an' the water's rinnin' fast oot o' his een." Meanwhile some half-dozen of the other monkeys in the cage were fighting and chattering over the platter into which the snuff-box had fallen, and it was highly amusing to observe the expression of ineffable disgust with which they sputtered the snuff out of their mouths when they discovered too late that the brown powder was not exactly suited to their taste. The empty box, after being scrambled for and fought for and carried aloft several times, dropped at last near enough the side to be twitched out by the crook of a cane, which a young gentleman deftly used for the purpose, and Geordie hastily pocketed his recovered property, though he ad- mitted " it would hae been nae great loss if the puggies had pooched it among them, as he had a silver ane at hame, wi' a supperscription on the lid, that the New Kirk congregation o' Kilpirnie presented to his auld faither, for his lang an' faithfu' service as a beadle." The loss of the snuff, however, seemed to put him about a good deal, but he comforted himself with the thought that perhaps Kiffy Cairns kept a box. As we passed along, taking a leisurely survey of the various specimens of monkeys and long-armed apes, one of the keepers was engaged in replenishing their platters 9 8 GEORDIE PURDIE IN LONDON. with savoury messes, and it afforded Geordie much amusement to watch the funny way in which they took their food, some of them snatching up tit-bits and scuttling oft" to quiet corners or perches aloft ; while others of a more sedate turn squatted down beside the dishes, and made good use of their long thin fingers in stuffing their cheeks. " What for dae they no gie them spunes an' knives an' forks?" he asked ; "I'm sure they would ken fu' weel hoo tae haunle them just like ither folk. I've heard it said that Leddy Mary o' Crawford Priory had a wheen dressed-up puggies an' dogs, that used tae sit doon ilka day tae denner at a lang covered table wi' plates afore them an' servants waitin' ahent them, just as if they had been the brawest gentry o' the kintra-side. But look here — look here!" he suddenly exclaimed in a louder voice, attracting the immediate attention of the by- standers ; " that's the auldest-farrant, manny-lookin' cockie o' the haill squad." The monkey he pointed out had a little cage all to himself, and in his little round face and sharp quick eyes there was such a strange look of human sagacity and intelligence, that one began to feel as if Darwinism might be something else than an eccentric delusion. " I've seen a face awfu' like that somewhaur," said George, when he had studied the animal wonderingly and silently for a moment or two ; " but I wouldna like aither to faither the antic on ony o' my acquentences." He did not fail to note and remark upon the great variety of expression, indicative of certain diversities of character and disposition, perceptible in the faces and features of the monkeys. One had a habitual sulky ACROBATIC FEATS. 99 scowl, which it could not get rid of even when it played pranks with its companions' tails. Another had a comical elevation of the eyebrows, as though it were always medi- tating a piece of practical waggery; while a third sat sedately contemplative, surveying the visitors with a philosophic eye, and wearing that melancholy cast of countenance which is often an attribute of great thinkers. Geordie regarded the female Hoolock Gibbon of Assam, said to have been captured near Gowalpara, as the ugliest and most repulsive creature in the entire col- lection. This long-armed ape has the malignant scowling look which might suit a garrotter or his "pal," and swings uneasily about her cage, emitting at intervals a deep, strong, half-grunting sort of sound that serves as the bass to the sharp treble squeal of the smaller tribes of monkeys. I had some difficulty in getting my companion away from the front of the cage containing the black spider monkeys, which are procured from the tropical forests of Guiana and from Central America. He was vastly amused by the active and lively movements of these little animals, and laughed till the tears came into his eyes on seeing them drop suddenly down from a high perch, as if intent on committing suicide; and then, seizing a rope in their descent with their prehensile tails, hang swinging at their ease in this eccentric and ludicrous fashion. I was anxious he should see the celebrated chimpanzee, who is allowed the free run of the monkey house when in good humour; but on asking an attendant, I was told the eccen- tric quadrumane was in disgrace for some mischievous prank, and imprisoned in the keeper's room. "Weel," said Purdie, as we emerged from the monkey- too GEORDIE PURDIE IN LONDON. house, glad to get out into the open air again, as the heat within was somewhat oppressive, " weel, it was worth while comin' here, if only to learn ae use mair that can be made o' beasts' tails. Coos' an' horses' tails are needit to whusk awa flees an' glegs in warm wather, swines' tails are gude for takin' a grup o' when ye want tae whummle them owre on their backs an' cut their thrapple, birds' tails help them tae flee, fishes' tails help them tae steer, dogs wag their tails when they're pleased, and stuff them awa doon atween their hent legs whun they're in the dumps ; but wha would ever hae thocht o' seein' beasts able tae wupp the ends o' their tails roond ropes an' spars, an' hing there wi' their heads doon, as cannily as a pat on the cleek o' a cruck ?" There was no time to make anything like a systematic inspection of the various specimens contained in the Gardens, and so we just wandered about the walks at our own sweet will, lingering longest at spots where the animals or birds excited the most interest. We made a point of visiting the aviaries devoted to the reception of the carnivora of the air, such as eagles, vultures, condors, falcons, kites, and hawks. Of the larger birds of prey there are a few splendid specimens, but there is something depressing in the spectacle of those great feathered flesh-eaters, sitting list- less prisoners on the thick tree-stumps, which to them must seem poor substitutes for the beetling pinnacles of inaccessible crags. For a moment or two they turned on us a piercing glance, as if thinking we might afford pro- fitable employment to their terrific beaks and formidable daws. Soon, however, a film came over their eyes, and they showed their contempt for the intruders, whom they FEATHERED FLESH-EATERS. 101 could not reach through the bars, by dropping off into a food-gorged daylight doze. Even when sunk in " inno- cent sleep," the coral-coloured legs and cere (or naked base of the beak) of the Bateleur eagles — whose necks are clothed with a lion-like mane of black feathers — im- part to them a singularly fierce and sanguinary look. The white-feathered face of a harpy eagle from Demerara, who sat blinking like an owl on his perch in the sunlight, pre- sented a curious resemblance to the shrewd face of some ancient white-headed councillor ; and Geordie, who viewed him long and curiously, thought that he looked wise and reverend-enough-like to " wag his head in a poupit." " But whaur's a' the parrots an' cockatoos ? " he in- quired at length, as if some sudden revulsion of feeling or fancy had created the desire to see birds more brilliant in hue and lively in their motions than the grim and fierce-looking eagles, vultures, and condors. This pre- ference for the parrots in the bird world, like his previous preference for the monkeys in the animal world, was only another indication of that juvenility of heart, notwith- standing his grey hairs, which I have already noted as one of Purdie's prominent characteristics ; and, accord- ingly, I deemed it best to gratify his curiosity at once, though there was still much of interest to see in the part of the Gardens where we then were. The parrot-house is situated in the outer circle, where the spacious blocks of brick buildings forming the elephant and hippopotamus houses are also to be found, and our way to it lay through the tunnel under the car- riage drive skirting the Regent's Park. Close to the northern mouth of the tunnel, at the foot io2 GEORDIE PURDIE IN LONDON. of the incline leading to the summit of the long mound or embankment on which the houses of the large animals have been erected, there is a convenient buffet, with two trim damsels in attendance, planted in a snug corner for the benefit of visitors. As Geordie had evidently felt the want of his usual pinches since losing his snuff in the monkey house, I advised him to try if the barmaids could not supply him with the commodity of which he stood so much in need. He acted on the hint at once, strode up eagerly, though awkwardly, to the open-air buffet, and presented his empty "mull" to one of the damsels, with the rather abrupt request — " I'll thenk ye, mem, tae fill this box." The affable young lady, who was more quietly dressed than the ordinary Hebes of the City bars, took the box into her hand, but seemed as greatly at a loss to know what to do with it as the monkey when it first fell into his thieving fingers. Her sharper companion, however, pressing the tips of her thumb and forefinger together, gracefully and archly made the sign of taking a pinch, like one who had inherited the art from her grandmother ; and then Hebe No. i, understanding what was wanted, returned the box, expressing regret that they did not keep any snuff, though they were well provided with cigars. This intimation put me in remembrance that my own cigar-case needed replenishing ; and just as I stepped forward to make a small purchase, Geordie was actually telling Hebe No. 2 that she was " the only ane o' the twa o' them up to snuff" — a remark belied by the fact that she did no see the point of his joke. Quite done " A POCKFU' a PLOOMS? 103 out of his half-expected supply of snuff, he resolved on compensating himself by buying some foreign plums, which were piled up in a tempting purple pyramid on a fruit dish, and which " would dae for Nelly's bairns," he said, " gin they should happen to set up his teeth again." " I'll talc' a pockfu' o' plooms, lass," he said,, this time addressing Hebe No. 2, whose smartness in making the sign of a pinch had pleased him, and pointing with his forefinger to the dish of coveted fruit. The young lady had no difficulty in making out what the " plooms " were, from the direction in which his finger pointed, but I had to explain that a " pockfu' " meant, in the present instance, a pound, as a larger quantity might be rather inconvenient to carry about with us in our peregrinations. On receiving his bag of plums, Geordie tendered a half- sovereign in payment, declining the proffer of silver I made him, on the plea that he needed " cheenge." The damsel, as is customary in London, looked keenly at the gold piece, and rung it on the counter to test its genuineness. Purdie thought this quite unnecessary, and remarked testily — " Ou, lass, ye needna be feared aboot it, it's gude eneugh siller, for I got it frae Jamie Steenson at the store ! " — meaning Kilpirnie Co-operative Store. This unsophisticated statement, though only half under- stood, set the young ladies a-giggling, and they had barely recovered themselves to bid us " Good afternoon," when George had gathered up his change, and we were turning away to resume our walk to the parrot-house. Through the trees on the right-hand slope, when we had reached the top of the long natural mound, following io 4 GEORDIE PURDIE IN LONDON. the path-way in a westerly direction, we caught glimpses of Primrose Hill, with people sunning themselves on seats on its summit, and also of the sluggish, sullen waters of the Regent's Canal, which are seldom stirred save when a heavily-laden coal-barge, with smoking chimney, is towed along by a horse, or some unhappy suicide, name and history unknown, seeks sudden escape from the miseries of life by a headlong plunge. Purdie was as much, disappointed with the glimpses of Primrose Hill as I was myself on seeing it for the first time. It might pass for an artificial mound of considerable proportions, and, indeed, in shape it bears some resemblance to the celebrated tumulus of Maeshowe in Orkney. "Is that what they ca' Primrose Hill?" inquired George; and when I answered in the affirmative, he added, " Gude sake, it's no muckle bigger than Lowrie's Knowe ! " Through the open door of the extensive parrot-house, as we approached the entrance, there issued the chatter and scream of numerous birds ; and their fluttering, lively movements, as we crossed the threshold, offered a curious contrast to the dull, listless, phlegmatic sort of existence led by the birds of prey. There are about eighty different species in this aviary, with infinite variety of beautifully-coloured plumage, and culminating in those wonders of the bird world — the Ganga cockatoo of Australia, and the Kaka parrot of New Zealand. The cockatoos and larger species of parrots were not enclosed in cages, but occupied a long line of perches, extending the whole length of the aviary, each connected with its perch by a running chain, to prevent escape. The restlessness of the birds and their FRANK BUCKIANDS PRODIGY. 105 incessant chatter and screams suggested a comparison to George. " It just minds me," he said, " o' what oor schule used to be like in my laddie days, whun the schulemaister had gaen oot for his twal o'clock piece an' dram — a'body on the move, an' ilka ane tryin'' tae see wha would skirl the loodist. The lasses were never ahent haund, and maybe it's the she-birds that are screichin' the warst here. " He was very much disappointed when he could not get any of the pretty polls and cockatoos to talk to him. Not one of them answered with an indignant " cockatoo " when he called out "cockyone" and " cockythree." He whistled to them, snapping his fingers the while, coaxed them in the tenderest " wheedlin'" words at his com- mand, and tried to rouse one to speak by humming a stave of " Up an' waur them a', Willie." But it was all in vain. The birds only turned their heads from side to side, eyeing him curiously and in- quiringly, and some of them giving vent to angry screams. His ill success reminded me of the fragmentary lines of our national poet — ' ' There cam' a piper oot o' Fife, I watna what they ca'd him ; He played our cousin Kate a spring When fient a body bade him ; An' aye the mair he hotched an' blew The mair that she forbade him. " How delighted Purdie would have been if the pretty cockatoo he coaxed longest had turned out to be a prodigy, like the remarkable one described by Frank Buckland, which gives tambourine accompaniment, in beautiful time, to the familiar melody of "Uncle Ned had 1 06 GE OR DIE P URDIE IN L OND ON no wool on the top of his head;" snaps its bill, in perfect time, in imitation of " the bones " during the singing of " Far down the Old Swan River ; " and imitates the swagger and jaunty airs of a swell when its owner strikes up the song "I'm a gent, I'm a gent." Perhaps, however, our friend's loud gaffaws on witnessing a performance of this extraordinary kind would have offended the feathered prodigy, and brought the laughable entertainment to a premature close. Geordie was so far satisfied when I explained to him that these birds, though holding levees every day, are very suspicious of strangers, especially when there is anything odd in their appearance, and that they only grow com- municative when the familiar voices of the keepers address them in confidential tones. The toucans, with their large bills, the motmots, bell-birds, and Australian finches did not interest him so much as the parrots and cockatoos, more than one of which he coveted for Nelly's cage, and I had to use some persuasion in getting him to " move on " to the elephant-house, where Kiffy Cairns would no doubt by this time be expecting our arrival. CHAPTER XL THE UPPER CLASSES OF THE ZOO — "AN AWFU BEAST — FEEDING THE ELEPHANT — MONSIEUR OBAYSCH AND MADAME ADHELA — A RIDE ON OLD JUMBO'S BACK — ESCAPE OF THE CHIMPANZEE AND HIS CLEVER CAPTURE. The size and general appearance of the new block of buildings, where the elephants and rhinoceroses are housed, caused Geordie no small amount of wonderment, and he made a passable joke about its being clear that the erection was meant to be the abode of the higher and not of the lower animals. In fact, this part of the Gardens, though situated on the north side, may be con- sidered the aristocratic West End of the Zoo, inhabited by the " upper classes " of the brute creation. The visitor, on approaching the entrance doors, is half inclined to have his calling card in readiness, in case some liveried lacquey should announce that their Excel- lencies the Elephants were engaged at present ; that Madame Adhela Hippopotamus was taking a bath, and could not be disturbed ; or that their Highnesses the Giraffes had gone off on a tour to Kordofan. Immediately on entering the elephant-house, the air of which felt almost as close and heavy as the " hot breath of a lion's den," we were observed by Kiffy Cairns ; but 108 CEORDIE PURDIE IN LONDON. as he was engaged with a party of visitors at the time, we turned to have a look at the two rhinoceroses nearest the entrance door. One of them is the Sumatras rhino- ceros, with two horns, for which the Zoological Society paid Mr Jamrach, the well-known Ratcliffe Highway dealer in wild beasts, upwards of one thousand pounds ; and the other, the Indian rhinoceros — an unwieldy mon- ster, resembling a huge iron cylinder rolling heavily about on four legs. With his arms resting on the iron guard, which runs in front of the range of " cribs," to keep visitors at a safe distance from the bars, Geordie made a series of those snacking sounds, produced by the rapid contact of the tongue with the roof of the mouth, which are expressive of great surprise, and then exclaimed — " Hae a care o' me, what an awfu' beast ! The weght o' him, gin he was fa'n owre on ye, would mak a body as flat as ane o' Fish Tammy's flounders. Ye'll mind o' Tammy, wha used tae come stottin' up tae Kilpirnie a' the road frae Buckhain, wi' a creel on his back an' a staff in his auld trumblin' haund. " Look at the brute's sides an' henches as he gangs hirstlin' and hinchin' aboot anion' the hay there ; the skin o' them is as hard and thick-lookin' as plates o' eiron, an' a ba' fired oot o' a cannon would just, I'm weel sure, play clink on his muckle sides, an' no fash him ony mair than a flee. I jalouse he can be nae ither than the behemoth we read aboot in the Bible, wha's banes were said to be like bars o' eiron an' strong pieces o' brass." " The animal," I said, "certainly looks old enough, George, to have lived in the days of the patriarch Job, though the hippopotamus answers better to the descrip- THE ELEPHANTS TRUMPET-BLAST. 109 tion given of behemoth. Do you observe the look of extreme age on its hard, metallic, corrugated face ? " " Ay, that dae I — ye micht amaist think it was ane o' the beasts that cam intae existence on the sixth day o' creation. But auld as it looks, there's something no very canny in the tail o' its ee whim it rams its ugly snoot through atween the thick bars o' its prison-cell." At this moment one of the elephants, in a cage a short distance off, blew a shrill trumpet-blast through his trunk by way of returning thanks for some apples which had been given to him by visitors, and the suddenness of the sound made Purdie start back from the bar on which he was leaning, in the belief apparently that the noise pro- ceeded from the rhinoceros, irritated by overhearing his last remark. On perceiving his mistake, he said — " Od, confoond me, gin I kent at first whaur the routin' blast was comin' frae ! " The trumpeting, however, had excited his curiosity to see what Avas going on further up the passage, and we accordingly proceeded to join the groups of visitors who were gathered in front of the elephants' huge cages. One of the animals was being so liberally supplied with apples, which he kept his trunk incessantly swinging through the bars to pick out of eager little hands, that it seemed as though he were converting the interior of his massive frame into a fruit store. Geordie's delight was quite as hearty and freely ex- pressed as that of the children, when the sagacious elephant, on finding that some one of the small hands could not reach the end of his trunk, suddenly reared it aloft, rested his fore feet on the bars, and opened his no GEORDJE PURDIE IN LONDON. cavernous mouth in order to show that the apple might be shot in without much danger of missing the mark. "That's capital," quoth our friend, on seeing the apple disappear in the red opening, and hearing the solitary rasping crunch that sealed its fate — "it just minds me o' a kind o' game I saw some folks playin' at on the grass ootside Battersea Park, no very far frae Nelly's hoose. There was a square o' canvas fixed on a frame, wi' a lion's head pented on it, an' an open pock — big eneugh to let in a ba' — instead o' the mooth ! Aboon the head, at the tap o' the canvas, the words, 'The Lion's Mooth,' were prented in big red letters, an' a cal- lant telt me that was the name o' the game. Weel, on payin' a penny, an' staunin' back aboot fowre yairds or sae, ye gat three trials wi' a leather ba' tae see gin ye could fling it intae the lion's mooth ; but I only saw it dune ance, and that was by the man himsel' that audit the concern. I was fule enough tae try my haund at it tae, but I fand, after the first fling, there was something wrang wi' the ba' — it was owre saft an' wadna gang straicht. But gin I only had an apple enoo, I would let you see me send it richt intae the elephant's mooth, though I should staund back the length o' the wa' there. ' I say, my wee mannie,' he continued, addressing a small flaxen haired boy, who was standing with an apple ready in his little hand, ' wull you let me try a shot ? ' " The tiny "curly-pow" looked up inquiringly with his large soft blue eyes, but his mother, who stood beside him, and who understood the question better, at once handed the apple to Purdie, who walked with it to the wall opposite the front of the cage, making a sign to the keeper that he was about to perform a feat. APPLE-PR A CTICE. 1 1 1 A single shout from the keeper like "Now then!" sufficed to put the animal once more in position with his trunk uplifted and his jaws apart, and Geordie gained the plaudits of the children — who clapped their hands and cried "hurrah" in chorus — when a dexterous throw sent the apple straight into the cavity, but with much greater force than the animal appeared altogether to relish. Kiffy Cairns, speaking through the bars of the next cage — where he was engaged in directing the march of the great African elephant Jumbo, which had a keeper, with a little boy in front of him, squatting on its back — com- plimented George on his dexterity, and advised him at the same time to keep well out of the animal's range if he saw a pail of water placed inside the crib. Remem- bering the unsolicited shower-bath administered to him by the sea-lion, he evidently, from the look he put on, made up his mind to give the elephant he had slightly irritated a wide berth, having a sort of instinctive notion that water blown violently from its trunk would be a more unpleasant affair than the " soosing" he had already received. Indeed, so suspicious was he of the powerful animal's possible length of range in discharging a volley of water, that he would hardly wait at Kiffy's invitation to see the African elephant — from whose back the big and little riders had now descended — crush an immense mangold wurzel with its foot, and lift the wrenched-off fragments in eager haste to its gaping mouth. On learning that we now proposed to proceed to the hippopotamus-house, Kiffy at once agreed to accompany us, leaving to the other attendants, in his absence, the task of entertaining visitors, who do not pay much heed ii2 GEORDIE PURDIE IN LONDON. to the regulations of the society forbidding gratuities. On the way he told us that he intended, on his return, taking out two of the tamest elephants, a male and a female, for an airing in the gardens, and he suggested that we should avail ourselves of the opportunity of '• riding the high horse." Geordie shrugged his shoulders at first, but he got better reconciled to the proposal when informed that the elephant who owed him a grudge did not form one of the pair. Passing the deer's shed, the beaver's pond, and the superintendent's office, we reached the hippopotamus mansion-house, to which finite a smart and elegant ap- pearance is imparted by the small paved court at the entrance, the short flight of steps, the glass-door, and the oil-cloth-covered lobby leading into the interior, where the huge animals are provided with all the requisites of amphibious existence. Unfortunately, at the time of our visit Mr Frank Buck- land's special pet, Guy Fawkes (whom I have since seen) had not entered an appearance on the stage of time, and accordingly we could only pay our respects to the two elders — Monsieur Obaysch and Madame Adhela. I have regretted that the young master, who was born on Guy Fawkes' Day, when crackers were exploding in all parts of London, did not come into the world a few months sooner, in order that Purdie might have beheld the obese slate-coloured baby waddling about at the feet of his mighty mother, and slipping down on his side to rest every other minute, as if he had begun to feel too soon the burden and the mystery of existence. Obaysch was enjoying his bath during the greater part of the time we remained in the hippopotamus - house. HIPPOPOTAMUS HAMS. 113 As he reared his huge mass of a back out of the water, one could scarcely believe that this same hippo, who now weighs four tons, was carried, when first captured, in the arms of the chief hunter of the party, who found him lying among reeds on the Island of Obaysch, in the White Nile. Adhela, who did not seem — on that day at least — to have so much fancy for the water as her loving lord, passed much of her time in opening her enormous mouth (which Mr Frank Buckland has graphically compared to a coal-scuttle) against one of the side walls of her cage, and showing a tongue which looked for all the world like a good-sized skate floundering about between her restless jaws. The immense bulk of the animals, and the great ex- tent of mouth, which gives such an unwieldy and heavy look to their heads, appeared to have brought a sudden fit of abstraction on George ; and just as I was expecting to hear him come out with some sage remark, he as- tonished me as much almost as the matter-of-fact man — who got into ecstacies over a basket of oysters — astonished Coleridge in the middle of one of his mystical mono- logues. " I was just wonderin'/' he said, " gin the flesh o' thae muckle monsters was gude fat pork, hoo mony ordinar' barrels they would fill whun weel sauted, and hoo lang they micht keep a sma' faimily like Nelly's gaun in meat- .diets. I sair misdoot if ony o' the thoosan's o' Lunnon fleshers hae cleeks strong eneugh inside or ootside their shops tae staund the weght o' the hams that could be made oot o' the hippopotamus' hurdies — haw ! haw !" " You laugh at the idea of eating up these monsters, George," I replied ; " but the truth is, that the layers of H ii 4 GEORDIE PURDIE IN LONDON. fat next to the skin are said to make capital bacon, while even gourmands declare the flesh to be nourishing and delicate to the taste." " Aweel ; ilka ane tae his taste, be't. I wouldna niffer a porker o' my ain, weel fed on tatties and kail, an' clean bedded in fog frae the wuds, for ony twa o' thae big brutes, though they were brocht up on barley sugar, an' drank nacthing but coo's milk ! " There was little time left for an inspection of the giraffes, elands, and ostriches, as the keeper could not be long absent from his charge ; and Geordie's interest in what he saw seemed somewhat to subside when he found Kiffy a ready listener to his extensive stock of Kilpirnie gossip. I allowed myself to drop behind a few paces as we retraced our steps to the elephant-house, in case anything confidential might edge itself into the conversation ; but certain exclamations which I overheard soon made me aware that Geordie had drifted away from the domestic annals of Kilpirnie, and was giving as concise an account as he could of his first day's misadventures in the metro- polis. His fellow-Fifer was evidently much amused at the recital ; and, when I rejoined them, Kiffy was just remarking that Cribbage and Ockum, from the descrip- tion given, were thieves and thimble-riggers pretty well known to the police, though they appeared in various disguises, and that strangers visiting the Gardens had been often enough inveigled by them into public-houses in the neighbourhood, and fleeced like silly sheep in the hands of the shearers. " So it seems you may have a chance of seeing your old friends again, George," I said. OLD JUMBO ON HIS KNEES. 115 " Foul fa' them gin I dae !" he replied, waxing warm at the thought 5 " I would ken them fu' weel again, though they were toggered.up in women's claes, like the mad Lunnon fules the haill kintra was ringin' aboot awhile syne ; an' if we did foregather wi' them, it would be graund fun to ride them doon on elephant-back, especially if the beast had its trunk fu' o' dirty water." Kiffy Cairns was highly tickled at the idea of honest Geordie Purdie charging through the Gardens after thim- ble-riggers on the back of one of his big pets. As we had now once more reached the elephant-house, he told us to wait outside the enclosure at the back, where there is a large pond for the animals disporting themselves ; and in a short time we heard the massive doors hurling open on their great hinges, and saw two elephants — old Jumbo and a female, smaller in stature — striding ponderously out into the open air, and flapping their ears, seemingly well pleased at the prospect of enjoying a constitutional walk about the grounds. A shadow of dismay appeared suddenly to fall on Purdie's face when he saw them ap- proach the edge of the pond, but it soon cleared away again when the voice of the keeper, which they instantly obeyed, called them off before their trunks touched the surface of the water. On getting outside the enclosure, Jumbo, at Kiffy's word of command, knelt down on his fore-knees to receive his riders, who were not to be accommodated with bridle or saddle, or the box with seats and rope- ladder attached, which would have helped Purdie to understand better than the explanation I gave, when we were on the top of the tramway-car, what was meant by the conjunction of Elephant and Castle. i 16 GEORDIE PURDIE IN LONDON. " Ye'll hae to gie me a leggie on, Kiffy," said Geordie, as he stood with his hands sprawling away up the sides of the huge animal, like a fowler trying to get hold of some jutting shelf in climbing a crag. The required assistance was soon rendered, and Pur- die, after a little wriggling and kicking, squatted down next Jumbo's neck, with both of his legs depending on the right side, thus following instinctively the fashion he had been accustomed to when bringing home horses of an evening at the close of a day's " orra-wark" on one of the farms about Kilpirnie. As the position he had taken up left me the broadest part of the elephant's back for my throne of state, it was necessary for me to do just as he did (only facing to the left), otherwise I would have required wonderful legs, like the head of the Yokes family, to enable me to sit at ease. On getting up from his knees — which was rather a trying moment, and made me grasp Geordie by the coat — Old Jumbo, with Kiffy at his head, and his docile spouse walking alongside, went striding off at a swinging pace, and we soon felt quite at home, though our un- wonted elevation did look a little awkward in the event of a sudden spill. There was a bevy of ladies walking leisurely in front, and* no sooner did one of their number, who happened to look round, give warning of our approach in alarmed haste, than they all scampered off in seeming trepidation to the entrance of the parrot-house. The little boys and girls playing about the walks were not so easily scared, and they waxed quite merry at the somewhat odd spec- tacle the two raw elephant-riders must have presented facing opposite ways. ESCAPE OF THE CHIMPANZEE. 117 Just when we had reached within about a dozen paces of the slope leading down to the tunnel — the idea of de- scending which, on our high perch, made me feel rather queer by anticipation — our progress was suddenly arrested by the hasty advent of one of the monkey-house keepers, who came tearing up bare-headed and almost breathless to the top of the ridge, and called out to Kiffy, as soon as he had recovered enough of wind, that the chimpan- zee had escaped, and was supposed to have crossed the public drive into the part of the Gardens where we then were. The order from Mr Bartlett was that all hands must gather to the rescue, and so Kiffy, who liked a little sport, at once gave us our choice of keeping our seats to make trial of a sharp trot back to the elephant-house, or coming down there and then to avoid the possibility of a spill in the presence of spectators on the outlook for laughing- stocks. We thought our wisest course was to descend ; and no sooner was this resolution formed than Jumbo got the quiet command to kneel, and we both slipped quietly to the ground. The elephants were evidently displeased at being turned back so soon ; but there was no help for it, and we soon saw the two sable Africans safely housed again. " Chim," said Kiffy Cairns, referring to the chimpanzee (who is a sort of iertium quid between the monkey and the man), " has not crossed the drive, so far as I have seen, and the chances are that he is at this blessed moment playing pranks in front of the Mother Red Cap in High Street, Camden Town, and keeping all the policemen in the neighbourhood actively employed." 1 18 GEORDIE PURDIE IN LONDON. Accompanied by the bare-headed keeper from the monkey-house ..we got out to the drive, but there was no appearance of Chim to east or west, and none of the passers-by or Jehus on the carriage-boxes had encountered the runaway on their travels. We returned to the outer circle of the gardens, and were hurrying along in the direction of the tunnel when who should come leaping and screaming up the slope but Chim in propria persona, followed by Mr Bartlettand a lot of keepers, and the two Hebes from the neighbour- ing buffet, who could not resist the curiosity of running out to witness what they expected to be the capture, though stragglers might help themselves in the interval to no end of plums and cheesecakes. Chim scaled the first tree that seemed to offer him a secure refuse, and sat down on a branch about fifteen feet from the "round, with one of his arms clasping the trunk, and his head bent, as if making a friendly bow to his baffled pursuers. Mr Bartlett, however, knew Chim better than Chim knew himself. This ingenious gentleman requested all of us, except one of the monkey-house keepers, to walk away as if nothing had happened, and get under hiding as soon as possible. This we accordingly did, but selected nooks and corners which would enable us to see everything that occurred. Geordie was squatted behind an evergreen bush, within speaking distance of me, and it cost me an effort to smother a loud laugh when he asked "hoo they were gaun to manage to pit saut on the puggie's tail ? " The keepers resorted to a device which had been successful more than once before in recovering the chimpanzee when the animal had succeeded in making CAPTURE OF CHIM. 119 his escape. They went up to a bush at some distance from the tree, and kept poking in it some time with a stick. "There he is! there he is ! run! run!" at last they cried, setting off in an affected fit of extreme terror in the direction of the tunnel, and looking back as though dreading pursuit. The chimpanzee, instantaneously catching the alarm, his very hairs bristling with fright, bounded down from the tree and followed the fugitives at a fearful rate, yelling the while in his dismay. Long before the keeper had reached the monkey-house, the chimpanzee had out- stripped them, and the alarmed animal did not stop until he was safe from danger in a favourite corner of the keeper's room. " The like o' that ! " said Geordie, getting up from his knees, when he saw the ingenious ruse and its astonishing result ; " the like o' that ! — there's mair sense in men than in puggies yet, after a'!" CHAPTER XII. THE REGENT'S PARK FOUNTAIN — ON THE UNDERGROUND RAIL- WAY — "STOP THIEF ! STOP THIEF !" — TRAGEDY IN THE TRAIN AT GOWER STREET — PURDIE TRAVELLING FIRST-CLASS — NIGHT- SIDE OF LONDON — BACK TO BATTERSEA — DAVY MATHIESON. Kiffy Cairns, I should have mentioned, was extremely sorry he could not replenish Geordie's exhausted " mull," as he was only addicted to the second of the three social vices of snuffing, smoking, and drinking ; and his regret was the greater when he learned the nature of the ludicrous misadventure that had emptied the box. The want of his customary pinches, however, now that the excitement of the elephant-ride and chimpanzee- hunt was over, made our friend seem so ill at ease that I saw there was little use remaining any longer in the Gardens, and we accordingly took our departure, but not before Kiffy had extorted a half promise from his fellow Fifer to find his way back again to the Zoo before he left London for Kilpirnie. There was small likelihood that this half promise would share a better fate than other half promises ; and Purdie himself seemed to be of this opinion ere we had gone away many steps. Remembering that a run on the Underground Rail- way would be a new experience to him, I proposed that REGENTS PARK FOUNTAIN. 121 we should take the train at the Portland Road Station on the Metropolitan line, for the sake of imparting some variety to our return journey to Battersea. To this Purdie readily assented ; and Ave therefore walked, as our most direct route, to the southern entrance of the Gardens, passing on our way the fish-house, with its fresh and salt water tanks of slate and glass, which the Brighton and Crystal Palace Aquaria have thrown somewhat into the shade of late, and emerging on the long, broad avenue — a favourite resort of Sunday promenaders — that sweeps across the eastern end of the Regent's Park. Until we got near enough for him to see the people quaffing water out of the chained pewter cups, Geordie could hardly bring himself to believe that the splendid structure erected in the centre of the avenue, at a short distance from the entrance through which we had just passed, was merely a drinking fountain, or public pump of a superior class. He was inclined to be equally in- credulous when I pointed out the inscription, and showed him that " Readymoney " was the appropriate surname of the Parsee donor of the munificent gift. After mount- ing the granite steps, and taking a long pull at one of the cups, which he had some difficulty in raising to his mouth, by reason of the chain being twisted, he finished off his refreshing drink with a loud smack of his lips, and said as he descended — "A graund thing o' that kind, d'ye no think, would mak a capital moniment tae the foonder o' teetotalism, whaever that micht be ? " "The idea is a good one," I responded; "and the legions of followers of Father Matthew might drink deep 1 2 2 GE ORDIE P URDIE IN L OND ON to his immortal memory out of these pewter cups without running much risk of toppling down the steps." We had a pleasant walk along the shady avenue in the cool of the evening, meeting many groups of promenaders; and Geordie briskened up immensely when, at the first tobacconist's shop after leaving the precincts of the Park, he got his box refilled with a pungent mixture which tickled his nose. On reaching Portland Road Station I purchased first- class tickets, in order that he might get an idea of the comfortable and luxurious style in which the wealthier class of City men — bankers, stockbrokers, merchants, and speculators in the funds — travel to and from their places of business every day. The general appearance of the Underground, as seen from the gas-lit platform, with the glaring lamps in front of the locomotives sud- denly rushing out of the darkness, and the red lights in the rear of other trains vanishing in the gloom, like extinguished meteoric stars, had a bewildering effect upon Purdie ; and I fear he did not listen very attentively when I told him we would require to look sharp when the carriages drew up at the platform, as passengers were allowed less time in taking their seats on this line than on any other in existence, so far as my experience went. Just as our train, heralded by its blazing bull's-eye, was drawing near, a sudden hubbub arose among the passengers on the platform, and from the crowd there emerged a showily-dressed, fussy, fat lady, screeching frantically — "Porter! Guard! Policeman! stop thief! stop thief! I've 'ad my purse and all my money stolen I" The poor lady was in a dreadful state of distraction, THE PICKPOCKETS REVENGE. 123 and she bounced up to people indiscriminately, thinking she had caught sight of the "owdacious" thief. Whether it was Purdie's billycock a little awry, or something uncommon in his appearance that attracted her attention, I cannot precisely say, but she had her hand on his shoulder in a trice, and put her scrutinizing face so close to his that he might have given her a good, sound, smacking kiss if he had not been too much taken aback by the suddenness of the seizure. However, she soon satisfied herself that he was not the man, and away she went bouncing again, and angrily upbraiding a rail- way policeman because the train was just about to start and no capture had been made. On looking out of the carriage window, when the train was under way, I saw the lady still gesticulating in the middle of a ring of railway officials ; but out of this affair there grew a frightful occurrence which took place at Gower Street, the very next station on the line. As the train was coming to a stop, the sound of shrieks could be heard above the harsh grinding of the drags, and the cry ran along the platform that a man had been stabbed. On getting hastily out to ascertain what was wrong, thinking perhaps that another unhappy victim had fallen into the fatal gulf between the platform and railway carriages, we learned that a tradesman, seeing the person whom he suspected to have committed the theft get into a third-class at Portland Road, followed him up of his own accord, and warned the passengers of the presence of a pickpocket. The suspected thief muttered something between his teeth ; and on observing his pursuer still bent on following him, when he rose to make his escape at Gower Street he turned furiously i24 GEORDIE PURDIE IN LONDON. round as he had reached the carriage door, and inflicted a severe stab with a clasp-knife in the side of the poor tradesman. We saw porters carrying the wounded man into one of the station-rooms, and saw also the infuriated despe- rado in the safe custody of the police. The tragic in real life, reversing the customary order of performances in the theatres, had thus, in our experience, succeeded the comical incidents of the day. " Oor train's awa'," said Geordie, looking astonished on turning round and seeing only a blank space where the carriages had been a minute or two before. " Yes, it is off, sure enough," I replied. " as we might have expected. The wheels on which this great Baby- lon runs its everlasting round must continue to roll what- ever befalls ; but here comes another light glaring out of the gloom, so that you see we have not long to wait. " There was always some amount of physical force needed, I found, to get Geordie stowed in time into railway carriages. He had an inclination to stand " glowering" first one way and then another, and watch- ing besides the hurrying movements of the passengers, who buzz in and out of the open doors like so many bees at swarming time. We had just got comfortably cushioned once more when he suddenly exclaimed, after "riping" all his pockets — " Weel, gin I havena' left my neepkin lyin' on the seat o' the cairriage we were in afore, i' the ither train !" "Bless me, Geordie !" I rejoined, "it looks as if you were always fated to lose something or other ; but I will FLEET STREET B Y LAMPLIGHT 1 2 5 take care you will not lose yourself this time, as you did, in an innocent sort of a way, on the first day of your arrival. You need not think to recover the 'neepkin' as you did the snuff-box, and I would advise you to pro- vide yourself with half-a-dozen when you next go abroad, in case of similar accidents." We had the compartment all to ourselves, as frequently happens in first-class carriages running citywards after business hours, and therefore he could talk "at lairge" in perfect freedom. He was quite delighted with the luxuriousness of the carriage. He tried all the seats in succession, except the one I occupied, took off his billy- cock, and wedged his head into padded corners, remark- ing how cozily he might have slept if he had been as comfortably quartered when he came all the way from Edinburgh. At King's Cross and Farringdon Street Stations, Purdie followed the rustic fashion of putting his head out of the window, in case there might be another "'catch thief!" or stabbing case ; and I was under the necessity of pulling him in when he talked so loud, with his head outside, that he attracted the notice of porters and guards, who made chaffing remarks, indicating that they thought him in a state of intoxication. We changed lines at Aldersgate, and then went bowling along the same section of the London, Chatham, and Dover with which George made acquaintance on the first day of his arrival in town. As the shades of night had descended by the time we crossed the bridge at Ludgate, he got a view of busy Fleet Street by lamplight ; and all the way till we reached York Road Station, he kept going backwards and forwards from the one window to the 126 GEORDIE PURDIE IN LONDON. other, admiring the long lines of street-lights which could be seen at intervals, especially the double rows on the Blackfriars and Waterloo Bridges and the Thames Em- bankment, and remarking, wonderingly, on the great extent of the Metropolis as indicated by the twinkle ot far-distant lamps that seemed to glimmer over a great sea of smoky haze. To plain Geordie Purdie, as to Alexander Smith, the gifted poet, it was the " leagues of lights and the roaring of the wheels" that imparted a strange fascination to the night-side of London. But there was another light above that also caught his eye — the crescent moon anchored like a fairy boat in a blue bay of the sky, and he commenced crooning the familiar lines — " It is the moon — I ken her horn, That's blinkin' in the lift sae hie ; She shines sae bricht to wile us hame, But, by my sooth" " You needn't finish the verse, George," I interjected, " and say. ' she'll wait a wee,' for here we are pulling up at York Road, and you will soon receive a welcome as hearty as that of the returned prodigal." As we left the station, Purdie pointed out to me the very spot where the '-box-o'-lights" boy added insult to injury by putting the tip of his thumb to the " neb" of his nose, and twirling his fingers in the air. On drawing near No. 8 Gladstone Row, we saw light streaming through the chinks of the partially-closed Venetians ; and through the window, open above to admit the freshening air, we heard the sound of strong, hearty masculine voices, indicating that the house contained more inmates than Nelly and the bairns. DA FY MA THIESON. 1 2 7 "That's Davy's lauch," said Geordie, as he half- stopped to listen outside the railing opposite the win- dow ; " it mun be later than we thocht, though it gets unco sune dark here for the hairst-time." I might have considered my mission for the day at an end when I had seen him safely back to his daughter's door ; but there were some arrangements to make about future sight-seeing, and Davy, whose acquaintance I had not yet made, would probably have been displeased if I had gone away without " comin' inbye." Accordingly, I followed Geordie when he passed through the gate, and the peremptory way in which he rap-tapped with the knocker must have made them think it was the postman, as Davy himself came in haste to the door. " Hallo ! it's you, grand-dad ; blow me, if I didn't think it was posty !" sang out the cheery voice of Davy Mathieson, chief mate of the trading brig "Betsy Jane," laid up for repairs in a dry dock at Wapping. i£ Ay, it's just me," quoth Geordie, " and somebody forbye. Ye see," he added, laying his hand on my shoulder, and pushing me in front of him face to face with his son-in-law, " I've brocht him back wi' me frae anion' the wuld beasts, safe an' soond as the prophet Dauniel was whun he cam oot o' the lion's den." Davy, who did not require to be told after this intro- duction who the stranger was, gave me a sailor's hearty welcome, and led the way into the snug sitting-room, with the interior of which, though not by gaslight, my readers are already pretty familiar. CHAPTER XIII. CAPTAIN INKSTER OF THE "BETSY JANE AND HIS MATE — PURDIE'S " PLOOM-PUDDIN'" — HOT TRIPE SUPPER — TODDY AND TALK — ANECDOTES ABOUT THE KII.PIKNIE GRAVEDIGGER — GEORD1E IN C.OOD TRIM — DAFT PETER PRODGER — Au Revoir. At the table, which was laid out for an early supper, there sat a stout, grey-headed, jolly-faced, brisk-eyed, whiskerless veteran, in the act of mixing a glass of grog, and apparently feeling himself quite at home. Davy introduced him to us as Captain Inkster, of the " Betsy Jane," and I surmised at once from his name that he must be one of those Orcadian skippers, who are so highly prized for their skilful seamanship. This turned out to be the case, as I soon discovered in the course of conversation when reference was made to the relative merits of English, Scotch, Welsh, and Irish sailors. Davy's features I had only seen indistinctly in the lobby by the light of a street lamp, which shed its rays into the passage ; but now, when one could overhaul him leisurely in the gas-lit room, he looked every inch a mate, though there was nothing sailor-like in his dress except the knot of his neck-tie. He was a tight, strap- ping fellow, of medium height, with a frank, shrewd, THE " PLOOMS" AGAIN. 129 bronzed face, gleeful eyes, dark hair inclined to curl, and whiskers and beard that seemed to have caught a browner tinge from exposure to all weathers. The faces of captain and mate were alike free from that hard, puckered appearance frequently observable in seafaring men ; and it was easy to perceive that they were a pair who would suit each other well (with occa- sional bickerings, perhaps) whether on shore or on board ship. We had just seated ourselves at table, prepared to comply with Davy's hospitable invitation to follow Cap- tain Inkster's example, when Mrs Mathieson. bright and cheerful, and tidily dressed, entered the room, and con- gratulated her father and myself on our safe return in good time. She administered a gentle rebuke to "grand- dad," however, for making such a loud rat-tat with the knocker of the door, as the sudden sound, echoing up the staircase, had awoke "wee Davie" from his first sleep, though he had now dropped over again in the arms of his little sister. This mention of the children put Purdie in remem- brance of the "plooms " he had purchased at the buffet in the Gardens, but of which he had only taken a few, as the eating of them threatened to bring on a renewal of toothache. Accordingly, he put his hand into the side-pocket of the coat which he had donned for the day, for the pur- pose of producing the bag; but he had managed to crush it somehow, either when mounting on the back of the elephant, or when sitting in the railway carriage, and he drew out his juice-stained fingers in haste, like one who had inadvertently touched a bleeding wound. After 1 i 3 o GEORDIE PURDIE IN LONDON. tasting the juice with his tongue, to satisfy himself that it was actually the juice of fruit, he again dived into his pocket, and produced a flattened, clammy " pock," which he placed on a plate that was ready to hand, with the adroit remark — " There's a ploom-puddin' tae the bairns, Nelly ! " Captain Inkster and Davy could not help laughing heartily at the apt observation and at the mess he had made of his purchase, the latter jocularly suggesting that his father-in-law did not seem very well skilled in the English art of plum-pudding-making, as the stones of the fruit were sticking out in all directions. With nimble fingers Nelly removed the saturated paper and '"standing stones," and there remained a tempting plateful of plum-jam. Geordie and I had partaken of nothing very substan- tial all day since our lunch before starting, and we were therefore in good trim to do ample justice to the hot tripe supper which, with other Scottish accompaniments, was soon smoking on the table. There was a hot dish of — what do you think, gentle reader ?— beautifully browned pig's pudding stuffed, more Scotico, with suet and roasted oatmeal, and worth a whole shipload of English or German sausages. This was another of the treats we should have lost if Purdie had been despoiled of his blue-painted box at King's Cross. Being a native of Orkney, where oatmeal forms the principal ingredient in a homely dish called " burstin," Captain Inkster relished the pudding as much as the three Fifers in the company, or his mate, Davy Mathie- son, who was born and brought up in a village on the shores of Easter Ross, where, in the language of Lady Nairne, " the Sutors guard fair Cromartie." TODDY, TALK, AND TURKISH PIPES. 131 Our after-supper talk, sufficiently discursive and seasoned with some of Geordie's racy remarks and reminiscences, was not exactly over " the walnuts and the wine," but over something that might be reckoned quite as good — Fife-grown fruit and glasses of hot punch. Toddy- rummers and ladles and the silver-lidded hot-water jug are only to be seen in London on the tables of Scottish families, or of those Englishmen who have taken a fancy to Glenlivet from tasting it at Stronachlachar, or Cladich, or Banavie, during autumnal tours in the North. Geordie gave a full and particular account of the leading incidents of the day, telling them about the sea-lion splashing him in the face ; the monkey stealing his snuff-box ; the elephant giving him a scare ; and not forgetting the stabbing case at Gower Street, which, he said, just showed London to be a big den of murderers as well as thieves. Both Captain Inkster and Davy were adepts at spin- ing yarns, with a flavour of the salt spray about them ; and I felt special interest in the glowing account they gave of the Golden Horn — the magnificent harbour of Constantinople, whither they had gone for a return cargo on their last voyage. The mention of Pera reminded Davy of a couple of Turkish pipes he had brought home with him, and the captain and his mate were soon puffing out fragrant clouds of smoke, which compelled me to light a cigar in self-defence. " D'ye mind yet o' Robie Reid, the Kilpirnie grave- digger?" was one of the questions Geordie put to me when there was a brief puffing pause in the conversation — his thoughts seeming always to point to the north, " true as the needle to the Pole." i *2 GE OR DIE P URDIE IN I OND ON j " Yes, I remember him as he used to potter about his ' kail-yard,' wearing always the same moleskin-sleeved red waistcoat, and the same sardonic grin on his face, as if he had borrowed this last from the innumerable skulls he had pitched up on the greensward with his spade, when digging fresh graves." "That's just his very image," said Geordie, grinning in turn ; " but he's dead and buried a gude wheen years syne. Lang-leggit Nanny, his wife, said tae me ae day, that gin he hadna fa'in' sae weak afore he slippit awa', he would hae risen frae his bed an' tried tae houk his ain burial-hole, as he thocht naebody would be able tae dae't sae weel as himsel'." " Perhaps," said Davy, " he wanted to save the fee, for Nanny's sake." This idea immensely tickled Captain Inkster, who laughed with the whole of his jolly face when he laughed at all, causing it to grow redder and redder the longer his merriment continued. " Like eneugh," Purdie went on, " that was his very reason, for he was unco fond o' the bawbees, an' left Nanny sae weel aff that she was ne'er behadden to the puir-rates o' the parish, though the Auld Kirk minister whiles slippit a shillin' intae her haund, as Robie had been the beadle tae, ye ken. He was a queer auld cockie Robie, an' kent fine what he was aboot. At ae time he thocht he was buryin' the folk ower cheap, an' sae he applied to the heritors tae alloo him tae raise the price o' houkin' a grave. He didna get what he wantit, as the heritors werena sure hoo sune their ain turn micht come. I met him a day or twa after, daunerin' aboot, gey doon i' the mooth, an' says I tae him — THE CAPTAIN'S TOAST , 133 " ' Robie, gin I had been at the meetin' I would hae said, agreed, wi' the addition that sax months' notice be gi'en aforehand, sae that onybody that objeckit tae the heigh rate micht hae an opportunity o' deem', an' bein' buried at the auld price ! ' " Geordie could not resist the temptation of laughing at his own smartness, and when asked how Robie relished the joke, he replied — " Ou, him ! he just rubbit his face, and leugh in the way ye mind sae week I ken mony bits o' stories aboot Robie that micht keep ye a' sittin' here till Big Ben chappit the wee short hoor ayont the twal'. He gied Willie, the bellman, a fine set-doon ae day. He had on his glasses, an' was sittin' on a stule ootside his door takin' a glisk at the papers, whun up comes that drunken bodie, Willie, seekin' a rawzor tae sharpen. " ' Losh, man, Robie,' said he, ' dae ye no think shame tae use ye'r fowre een (meanin' the specs) whun here's mysel', aulder than you, can dae wi' twa yet ? ' " ' Ay,' said Robie, grinnin' up at him in the queer way ye spak aboot — ' I believe ye there, Willie, for ever sin' I kent ye, ye never could get yer glasses ony heigher than ye'r mooth ! ' " We all laughed at this sally of Robie's wit, hitting off so well the drinking habits of the poor bellman, and Cap- tain Inkster proposed as a toast — " The immortal memory of the defunct Kilpirnie grave-digger !" Purdie, warming under the influence of the hot punch, and feeling pleased that his Kilpirnie anecdotes were giving entertainment to the company, commenced hum- ming the refrain of Lady Nairne's capital song — i34 GEORDIE PURDIE IN LONDON. "For we're a' noddin', nid, nid, noddin' ; O, we're a' noddin' at oor hoose at hame." Then, with his fingers tapping time on the table, he went suddenly off into — " Rum te turn te tiddle dc dum," giving out the sounds in a manner so unique and peculiar that I was afraid the Orkney skipper would go into con- vulsions. " Such a sing !" exclaimed Davy, as he pulled his long pipe from his mouth, and sent a circle of smoke curling and spinning away up to the ceiling of the room. On seeing Geordie in such good trim I asked him if he could recall daft Peter Prodger's invariable salutation, spoken in a squeaking alto voice — "Hoo're ye a' the day?" Purdie made the attempt, but the effect was ludicrous in the extreme. However, the mention of the name put him in mind of one or two anecdotes of Peter, which he told with gusto. 11 Peter," he said, " was the queerest wee body I ever kent in my life. Whun he was in ony folk's hoose, an' they wantit tae get quat o' him, a' they had tae dae was to pit the poker i' the ribs o' the fire, an' oot he ran as hard as he could skelter, haddin' his lugs a' the time. Ance he was gaun frae the warehoose wi' a wub tae beam on his loom, an' a neebour says tae him — " ' What kind o' a wub hae ye gotten this time ? ' "'Ou, the same's my last,' answered Peter, com- posedly. " ' An' what kind was ye'r last ? ' pursued his ques- tioner. DAFT PETER PRODGER. 135 " ' Ou, just the same as this!' replied Peter again, trottin' aff wi' the wub. " Sometimes I thocht he was mair rogue than fule. He liket far better tae rin errants tae shoemakers, tail- yours, an' the like, than dae a haund's turn o' wark ; an' whun he gaed hame at nicht, after bein' oot a' day, he demandit his breakfast, denner, an' fowre-hoors a' in suc- cession, though he had already gotten his meals at the ordinar' time. He made a gude wheen pennies wi' rinnin' errants, but he spent them as fast as they cam in. Ae day I said to him — " ' Peter, what can ye dae wi' a ye'r siller? for ye maun be rich.' " ' Me,' he answered, wi' his lood squaich — ' No a bit ; I've wrocht wubs tae Maister Lumgair this hunner year, and I ne'er got a bawbee frae him a' the time !' ' How long Geordie might have gone on with his Kil- pirnie reminiscences I will not venture to say; but it was now getting late, and I rose to take my leave. When on our legs it was arranged that I should return on Saturday evening, and hear how Geordie enjoyed him- self at the Crystal Palace, whither he was to be accom- panied by the whole household, including Captain Ink- ster, who was at a loss how to kill his time while the k ' Betsy Jane " lay under repair in Wapping Docks. CHAPTER XIV. ANOTHER NIGHT AT GLADSTONE ROW — A GAME AT DRAUGHTS — PURDIE'S VISIT TO THE DOCK WINE-VAULTS — REAL HAVANNAS — ON BOARD A RIVER STEAMER — COLLISION AT GREENWICH — GEORDIE AND THE WOOLWICH ARSENAL POLICEMAN — GREEN- WICH TOUTERS — AT THE OBSERVATORY — ADVENTURE IN THE PARK. About eight o'clock on the appointed Saturday evening I found myself once more in the now familiar room at Gladstone Row. The company was the same as before, with the soli- tary addition of Captain Inkster's second son, a smart youth of eighteen, who had obtained a clerkship in Somerset House, through the influence of the late veteran member of Parliament for bis native islands. Young Malcolm Inkster, quite a recent arrival in Lon- don, had made, like Geordie, his first visit to the Crystal Palace that day, and the two, when I entered the room, were in the thick of an animated conversation on the wonders they had seen ; while the captain and mate of the " Betsy Jane," with the usual sailor's accompani- ments of pipes and grog, were enjoying a quiet game at draughts, as they sometimes did on board ship, when the want of wind made time hang heavy on their hands. Pike the most of active housewives in her station of A GAME AT DRAUGHTS. 137 life in London, Mrs Mathieson did all her marketings herself on Saturday nights, and she was now in bonnet and shawl — after seeing her tired children sound asleep in bed — ready to go out to make her purchases of provi- sions at the butcher's, baker's, and greengrocer's, for the Sunday's dinner, which is the dinner par excellence of the entire week. On ordinary occasions of the kind she would have been accompanied by Davy when he was at home ; but this night, as he could not think of leaving his guests, she took along with her their little handmaid, and made her husband understand, with an inclination of her head in the direction of the staircase as she went out at the room door, that he was to quiet the children if they showed signs of restlessness after the excitement of the day. " Ay, ay," responded Davy, crowning a king at the same time, " and try to get us a good roast, as the captain is sure to be here at dinner to-morrow." The captain, with his brow resting on his palm, and his elbow resting on the table, seemed so absorbed in the game, which was going against him, that he said not a word. " Michtna ye pit awa' the dam-brod noo, an' let that game be a draw?" said Geordie, edging his chair nearer to the table, and signifying to Malcolm and myself, with the wink which is as good as a nod to a blind horse, that we should follow his example. Captain Inkster, after carefully studying the disposi- tion of the men on the board, showed a commendable readiness to "cave in," as he saw that Davy had the whip-hand of him ; and we were thus soon placed in more sociable relations all round than if the game at draughts, i 3 8 GEORDIE PURDIE IN LONDON. which is never a lively one to onlookers, had still been in progress. Mrs Mathieson, before going out on her marketing cruise, had considerately provided a brimming jugful of her capital mellow Burton for those of us who might prefer it to the more potent grog, and the circum- stances were therefore altogether favourable to the free flow of table-talk. " My old man," said Davy, making humorous use of a phrase which working-men's wives in London are in the habit of applying to their husbands whatever their age may be — " My old man has seen a lot more than the Crystal Palace since you were here the other night. He has been at the Guildhall and Mansion-House, all through the Docks and the Tower, and down the river to Greenwich and Woolwich, at which last-named place he nearly got himself into a fine scrape by his own fool- hardiness." • " Ye ' auld ' an' ' fule,' weel, Davy," rapped out Geordie, feeling somewhat nettled at the rather irre- verent expressions of his free-spoken son-in-law. " I'm young eneugh tae be a faither yet, as mony grand-faithers hae been sin' the days o' Methusalem ; so ye needna craw sae crouse, lad. Hoosomever, lettin' that flee stick tae the wa', it's true what the sailor birkie says. The captain there" (nodding his head in the direction of the captain's chair) "an' Davyhimsel"' (nodding his head again) " tuk me wi' them tae a' thae places, an' I wonner hoo we managed tae get awa' frae the Docks, whaur they hae hunners o' sea-farin' acquentences, mair especially as we fund oor way intae the wine-vats." " Ho ! ho ! ho !" laughed Davy, accompanied by the cachinnations of us all — " wine-vaults, you mean." THE DOCK WINE-VAULTS. 139 " Weel, weel, sae be it, — vats or vaults, there's no muckle difference ; but I can tell ye there's a fell feck o' undergrund speerits there — hoo mony, Davy ? — Ay, that's it — the vaults, stretchin' awa' intae the darkness, can haud aboot a hunner thoosand pipes o' wine. What fearfu' fuddlers the Lunnon gentry mun be ! " " Your words, George," I said, " recall to me Charles Lamb's delightful and inimitable description of his visit, in the company of a congenial friend, to a London sub- terranean wine-cellar of vast proportions, the long galleries of which extended one way ' beneath the busy trampling of the greatest shopkeepers and stock-jobbers in the world ;' and, on the other, as I remember, ' below the clamour of the Old Bailey Court and the cells of its victims.' The three of you might have said, in the words of the incomparable Elia, ' On a sudden, turning a seg- ment of a mighty cask, we stood in the centre of the vast receptacle of spiritous riches.' " " Ay, ' speerituous riches ! ' " interjected Geordie, " he micht weel say that, for there was liquor eneugh in the vats — weel, vaults be't — tae hae floated a' the boats that ever sailed the sea sin' the time whun ' The king sat in Dumfarlin toun Drinkin' the bluid-red wine,' an' that wasna yesterday, nor the day afore. D'ye mind, captain, o' seein' the three loons — that micht hae passed for Willie wha ' brewed the peck o' maut,' and Rab and Allan that ' cam tae prie ' — gaun aboot amon' the thoosans o' barrels that were lyin' ootside, an' proggin' the bungs here an' there tae tak a taste an' see gin there was nae sma' beer anion' the sherry an' port ? " Mo GEORDIE PUR DIE IN LONDON. " Yes, yes," responded the captain, smiling benignly, " I saw them quite well, and I've often seen the same fellows at the same tasting trade before. It don't seem to do them much harm, though they evidently require to take a good swig to know whether the wine is in sound condition or not." " Ye're richt there, captain," rejoined Geordie ; " I sair misdoot gin yon chields would care muckle aboot slock- enin' their drooth at Jenny Jack's well, or the graund fresh spring at Puddin' Ha' aither." On hearing these once familiar names, I had a perfect recollection of the two wells mentioned, celebrated for their clear, cold, refreshing water — being favourite resorts in my schoolboy days. Davy, the captain, and his son Malcolm, however, could only smile at the homeliness of Geordie's references, as they knew nothing whatever about the local Bethesdas that came so readily to his lips. Probably, if the truth were told, he relished Jenny Jack's spring best himself when there was a " cinder" in the water, just to take the chill off. At this stage of the sederunt (if I may freely use an ecclesiastical word in this connection) Davy, who had gone out of the room, returned with a little square box in his hand, and gave a significant wink with his left eye to Captain Inkster as he placed it on the table. The opening of the lid disclosed to view a rich array of finely- flavoured Havannas, and as the captain chuckled when he recognised the treasure, I saw at once that the box had a history, about which it might not be prudent too curiously to inquire. We all selected one except Purdie, who rapped down his snuff-box on the table, and said that " a cutty-pipe SAIL DOWN THE RIVER. 141 hadna been in his cheek for twunty years, nor a ceegaur for twa twunties mair." " Well now, George," I asked, " what more about the Docks, and the sail down the river, and Greenwich and Woolwich, and most important of all, the Crystal Palace? But you might perhaps, first of all, let us hear some- thing of this Woolwich scrape, out of which you seem to have come scathless, with your usual good luck." "Ah-h-h!" he exclaimed, "the Palace, set on a hill like a city that canna be hid, was the graundest sicht I ever pat een on, an' I'll sune let ye ken what I thocht o't. But we may as weel get this Woolwich business oot o' haund first, in case Davy should try to mak a maukin o' a midge. " The fac' is, ye see, the three o's — the captain there, Davy, and mysel' — got intae a steamer at the Wast- minster Brig jetty, an' awa' we gaed fuffin' an flappin' doon the river, first below ae brig an' then anither, steerin' clear o' the hunners o' boats an' bairges, though it was a gey kittle job whiles, an' stoppin' every noo an' then to let folk aff an' on. Some o' thae ill-faured nigger loons, wi' black baunds round their whitey-broon hats — maybe the same set we saw oot here, ye mind — were playin' the banjo, singin', and kickin' up their heels a' the way frae Lunnon Brig pier to Greenwich. "There was ane o' them aye gaun aboot amon' the folk wi' a collection-ladle in his haund, an' whun he handit it oot tae me the aight time, after gettin' twa bawbees, the blackguard ! — I dang the spune up tae his dirty neb, an' he never socht tae come oor way again. " What a sicht it was a' the way doon — the Toor o' Lunnon — whaur I saw the headsman's gruesome auld 1 4 2 GE ORDIE P URDIE IN L OND ON block that was last reddened m' the bluid o' three o' Prince Charlie's leal Scots Lords — the lang raws o' warehooses, rising storey aboon storey; the thickets o' masts o' the great muckle ships at the wharves an' in the docks on baith sides ; an' every ither minute, as we got nearer Greenwich, big steamers, that could hae carried five o' oors on their decks, grindin' past wi' their screw- drivers ahcnt, or kirning the broon water into a beery froth wi' their whurlin' paidle-wheels. Then there cam the little puffin' eiron boats an' cockie tugs towin' at their tails great three-masters frae a' the seas aneath the sun ; an' it was blythesome tae see the weel-tanned faces o' the sailors, some o' them wearin' red Kilmarnock nicht-caps, glowerin' oor way ower the tap o' their bulwarks, just as though they had been gled to get a glisk again o' sae mony men, women, an' bairns a' in ae boat." "And so they are, Mr Purdie, I can assure you," ejaculated, with some enthusiasm, Captain Inkster. "You have hit the thing off well. Next to sailing up the String into Kirkwall Bay after two or three years' absence, there is nothing I enjoy so much as coming up the Thames, and seeing once more what may be called the mast-spires of the ship-city towering up in the East and West Indian Docks, St Katherine's Docks, and all the other docks on both sides of the river. If you could only see the ships on some high day or holiday, all flying their bunting, it would be something worth speaking about at Kilpirnie." Malcolm, who had only, as yet, crossed the river in tramway cars, 'buses, and railway carriages, expressed his intention of devoting his first free Saturdays to steam- boat runs between Westminster and Woolwich, and then OFF GREENWICH. 143 up the river to Kew and Hampton Court, and rare old Richmond, which can still boast the ancient glories of the hill and park, though another hostelry now reigns in the stead of the famous " Star and Garter," where Charles Dickens delighted to seek relaxation in choice company from the anxieties and cares of literary toil. " But what about the Woolwich affair ? You are giving it too much line — do let them hear about Woolwich now, or you will never get the length of the Palace to-night," said Davy impatiently, sending out, as he generally did before he spoke, a long whiff of wreathing smoke. " Fife folk winna drive, Davy, lad. Ye micht hae kent that afore noo," responded George ; " but gin ye just let me alane, I'll sune hae my wub oot. " Weel, ye see," he continued, taking a pinch and resuming the thread of his narrative, "we cam tae Green- wich floatin' pier, whaur the maist feck o' the folk stappit oot, wi' the darkies an' the ladle-man anion' them. On castin' aff frae the pier again, oor boat gaed jammin' up against the side o' the little ferry-steamer that gangs back an' fore tae the Isle o' Dogs, an' the twa captains, staunin' on the paidle-boxes, were swearin' at ilk ither just like what ye hear the tramway drivers an' cabbies daein' on the streets. " Neist we steamed awa' past Greenwich Hospital, that micht pass ony day for a king's palace, an' the sicht o't mindit me o' an auld picture o' the landin' o' puir Queen Caroline we hae at hame. Ither fowre miles o' water, thicker than ever wi' great big ships, twa-funnelled screw steamboats, an' wee eiron fuffers tuggin' lang strings o' coal-bairges ahent them, an' then we cam tae the landin'- stage at Woolwich — that fearfu' place " 144 GEORDIE PURDIE IN LONDON. " Where ' Woolwich Infants,' that weep iron tears, are born," interjected Davy. "And where," I added, " Vulcan, with uprolled sleeves, and grimy sinewy arms, forges the thunderbolts that enable Britannia to 'rule the waves.'" " Hurrah !" exclaimed the captain, in a sudden access of patriotic emotion. " Sing us a stave or two of ' Rule Britannia !' Davy, boy, and we'll all join in the chorus." " I'll rather sing you a stave about a namesake of our own Betsy Jane," answered the chief mate : "here goes — 1 The foe he beats to quarters, and the Russian bugles sound, And the little Betsy Jane she leaps upon the sea. ' Port and starboard ! ' cried our captain ; 'Pay it in, my hearts !' sang he. ' We're Old England's sons, And we'll fight for her to-day !' (You should hear the British cheer Fore and aft.) ' Fire away !' In she runs, and her guns thunder round.' " " That's first-rate," cried Geordie — quite pleased with the stave of the sea-song and his son-in-law's energetic singing — " the writer o' that sang maun surely hae smelt poother at sea himsel'. But I would like tae ken wha's tae blame for stoppin' my story this time? "Ye see," proceeded Purdie, directing his talk to Malcolm Inkster and myself, " the captain and Davy had some business o' their ain in haund after we got oot o' the boat at Woolwich, an' as they thocht in their wusdom they could dae better withoot me, they just tell't me tae gang my wa's an' tak a luk at the place, an' aboon a' things tae be sure an' be back at the pier for the three o'clock upgangin' steamer. ON FORBIDDEN GR O UND. 1 4 5 " Weel, aff I set by mysel', wantin' tae see what I could o' the place whaur they mak a' the big guns an' graith for sea-fechts. Withoot needin' tae speer the way at onybody, I got the length o' the Royal Arsenal, an' seein' a wheen warkmen gaun in through an open yett, I just gaed alang wi' them withoot attractin' ony particular notice frae three police-offishers that were thrang speakin' thegither. But as I was stappin' forrit tae pass through a second yett intae a wark-yard, anither Bobby that I hadna seen afore cam sharp up in front o' me, an' said — " ' What are ye wantin' here ?'" " I tell't him richt aff that I had just come in wi' the lave, an' wantit tae hae a luk roond at the place. He said, gey angry-like, that I should hae kent there was nae admission tae the public at that hoor an' entrance, an' that gin I had really been a foreigner — as he half sus- pectit at first I was a German spy — he would haen me clappit in eirons in the lock-up in a jiffey. " ' Me a German ! ' I said, getting roosed in turn wi' his cheeky way o' speakin' ; ' dae ye no hear I've got a gude Scotch tongue in my head, though it's maybe no sae glib as ye'r ain?'" Here Davy gave a half doubtful laugh, as if he thought his worthy father-in-law would have been too much alarmed at the possibility of being locked up to give the police- man any tart rejoinders. " What are ye sniggerin' at, Davie ? " asked George, stopping short in his narration. " D'ye think I was gaun tae staund like an idiwut, wi' my haunds in my pooches, an' my back tae the wa', takin' a' his jaw for naething ? Na, na ! my lad, it hasna come tae that yet." K 146 GEORDIE PURDIE IN LONDON. "'Weel,' said the Bobby, keepin' a calmer sough, 'I see noo ye're a Scotchman an' a stranger, but ye've nae business in here ; an' the fac' is, the three offishers o' the Arsenal Police Brigade there at the ooter yett would staund a bad chance o' bein' sent tae the richt aboot gin it were kent they had let ye pass unchallenged.' " ' I'll just hae tae gang back the gate I cam, then,'" said I. " k Ye winna get past thae three men by yersel',' said he. "'Come awa' vve's then,' I said again, 'an' just tell them I didna ken ony better.' " ' I canna leave my post,' he answered, lookin' mair kindly an' obleegin' like, ' but I'll gang wi' ye pairt o' the way, an' signal tae them tae let ye past.' " ' Ye're a gey gude sort o' a chap after a', ' says I tae him whun he spak thae words, ' an' gin ye could only tak's tae a place like Macgregor's, whaur they keep a drappie o' the richt stuff, I would gie ye a gude gill tae clap i' ye'r ain cheek, an' lay the stour.' " He leuch an' shook his head ; an' signin' tae the three offishers tae let me bye, I was sune on the ootside again safe and soond, an' that was a' I saw o' the Royal Arsenal." Malcolm and I derived the most amusement from this candid recital, as it was new to us, Geordie having com- municated the particulars of his fresh escapade to Captain Inkster and Davy when he rejoined them at the pier en route to Greenwich. "There is" (I said, turning round to Purdie), "this singularity about you, that, while you get yourself into scrapes with the greatest ease, you also manage to wriggle GREENWICH HOSPITAL. 147 out of them with equal readiness. Are you sure the friendly policeman was not a fellow-countryman of your own, though his tongue may have caught the English accent in the way Lord Jeffrey once suggested — namely, by holding it out in the English air, as dogs are in the habit of doing in hot weather?" " Na ! he couldna be that, or he wouldna hae refused a dram ! " ' ; But you forget he was on duty." " Ou, it's a' the same," quoth Geordie, quite sure that a Donald Mackay, or Sandy Grant, or Tarn Swan, would have been glad of any opportunity to " weet their whussle." " You would see more of Greenwich than of Woolwich, then?" I said. "Ay, that we did; w^e saw the inside o' the big hottle whaur the Queen's Ministers eat what they ca' their Whitebait Denner — whitebait bein' aboot the size o' sma' garvies. Syne we gaed tae the Hospital, an' I saw the graund square wi' a moniment tae George Second — (ye see I hae royal bluid in my christenin' name) — stannin' i' the middle o't. Inside we saw what w'ere ance the pen- sioners' Dinin' Ha's, but there's nane o' the auld birkies there noo, ye ken ; an' the Paintit Ha' was a rale bonny sicht, wi' the wa's a' covered ower wi' muckle picturs o' sea-fechts an' siclike. But naething pleased me sae weel as tae see the auld blue coat, wi' the hole in't whaur the bullet gaed through, that Nelson had on whun he fell at the battle o' Trafalgaur. " We couldna bide there lang though, an' I thocht it unco queer, whun we were on oor road tae the Observatory in Greenwich Park, tae hear women-folk an' men-folk 148 GEORDIE PURDIE IN LONDON. tootin' at the doors o' eatin'-hooses an' coffee-hooses, an' deavin' everybody wi' their clatter aboot cups o' tea an' het jints. They just mindit me o' Robie Saumon frae the ' lang toun o' Kirkcaldy,' cryin' up his parleys an' big gingerbread cakes at Kilpirnie market." This reference made me smile, tickled by the odd and yet natural way in which Geordie occasionally illustrated his remarks by introducing persons, scenes, or events that were well known to himself, but not so familiar to some of his auditors. "And what did you think of the Park and Obser- vatory, George?" I asked. " Week I thocht a muckle heap o' baith. We clamb up the brae first tae the Observatory — a stiffer pull, ye'll alloo, than Broomy Brae — an' frae the ootside gallery that rins half-way roond the heich buildin' we saw the windins' o' the Thames, an' the boats sailin' up an' doon, catchin' the red licht o' the sun on their sails, and the lang stretches o' masts o' the ships lyin' in the docks, an' Lunnon toun itself spreadin' awa' till the lang chimley stalks o' factories an' kirk steeples gaed oot o' sicht in a great clud o' reek. " Nearer at haund, doon the bend o' the grassy brae, richt aneath whaur we were stannin', an' a wee bit frae the bottom o' One Tree Hill, lads an' lasses made a steer wi' their ' Kiss-i'-the-Ring' daffin' an' laughin,' an' amon' the trees there were heaps o' weel-put-on bairnies playin' at the cheese-ring and dizzy-dizzy-dandy. I could hae stoppit there lang eneugh leanin' on the railin' an' glow- erin' aboot me, but the sun was wastlin', an' we had tae gang oor wa's tae get oot afore steekin' time at the Black- heath side o' the Park. "A FINE SET-DO ON." 149 " A wee while after we had left the Observatory ahent us, and were travellin' along a bonny braid walk wi' the branches o' muckle auld trees meetin' owerhead, there was a drave o' half-a-hunner roe-deer, wi' the bucks in front, gaed spinderin' across the walk, and jinkin' awa' oot o' sicht as fast as their slim but sure legs could carry them. I had never afore seen mair than twa or three dear at a time rinnin' wuld amon' Lord Leven's wuds." " And what was the next animal we saw after the deer?" inquired Davy, bursting out into a loud laugh, in which Captain Inkster heartily joined, and Geordie him- self, after an interval, also indulged in a good gaffaw. " Ay, that was a fine set-doon, but it brak nae banes," said Purdie at last, after some ineffectual attempts to sup- press his fit of laughter. "Ye see," he went on, always addressing himself to Malcolm and myself, "we were just stappin' alang in what micht already be ca'd the gloamin' o' the big auld trees, and had gotten aboot a hunner yairds frae the yett leadin' oot tae Blackheath, whun a' at ance I heard some- thing patterin' and whurlin' richt foment me, an' afore I kent whaur I was I had my legs knockit clean frae below me, an' there was a clatter an' reeshlin' on the ither side o' the braid walk. I wasna lang in bein' on my legs again, gey flichtered, but no muckle the waur, as I fell saft. An' what dae ye think was the meanin' o' a' the racket?" The two whom he specially addressed signified at once their ignorance and desire for information by shaking their heads, while the Captain and Davy gave vent to another laugh. " Weel, it was nae ither than the goat yokit in the i 5 o GEORDIE PURDIE IN LONDON. basket-cairriage an' keepit for hire at Blackheath, that had skelpit awa' oot o' the haund o' the callant in charge, an' was makin' straught for the Observatory, whun he cam bang up against my legs. Gin he had puttin his head doon an' let drive at me with his horns, I wouldna hae come aff sae week Ane o' the keepers o' the Park, dressed like a robin in a red waistcoat, cam up at the time, an' he gied the loon a gude cufHn' for no takin' better care o' his goat. " On gettin' ootside the Park, an' gaun across the Heath tae gae doon the hill to the new railway station, Davy pointed oot tae me Prince Airthur's red brick hoose, wi' a Union Jack fieein' on the lum-head, and we saw a wheen laddies an' hafflins takin' hame the side- saddled cuddies an' skinny auld naigs that are let oot for hire tae bits o' lassies an' Cockney madcaps tae scamper on aboot the common. Tammy Grant's camsteery beast would lick them a' at funkin' up its heels ower the tap o' a knowe. I thocht that Blackheath would mak a graund bleachin'-green for the half o' Lunnon, gin they would only saw't a' ower again wi' gude grass." Here the rattle of a pass-key in the lock, and the shut- ting of the outer door, announced the return of Mrs Mathieson from her Saturday night's marketing ; and she had taken her place beside us at the table, after setting down bread and cheese and beautiful fresh salad, before Geordie had got the length of the wonders of the Crystal Palace. CHAPTER XV, DRIVE TO SYDENHAM IN A TWO-HORSE DRAG — THE SHAM CRIPPLE — IN THE CRYSTAL PALACE — ASCENT OF THE NORTH TOWER — GEORDIE DESCRIBES THE AQUARIUM AND THE HARVEST FETE— CHILDREN'S CHOIR ON THE HANDEL ORCHESTRA — CRIB- BAGEAND OCKUM AGAIN — RETURN DRIVE — PURDIE GOES HOME BY SEA. " How did you all go to the Crystal Palace?" I asked, putting the question to the table. " Was it by road or rail?" " By the Heme Hill and Dulwich Roads," answered Davy, " a more enjoyable way of getting to Sydenham than travelling either by the High Level or Low Level lines. We had a hire of a two-horse drag, which held us all comfortably, from a friend of the captain's at Coach- ington Mews, and we went over the ground pretty sharp, I can tell you, both in going and coming back." " There's nae doot o' that," broke in Geordie ; " Lun- non drivers hae nae mercy on horse-flesh — up hill, or doon dale, it's a' the same ; an' we gaed whurlin' on as fast as if we had been drivin' across a bare muir instead o' alang a bonny road wi' raws o' trees an' hedges on ilka haund. Though we gaed whiskin' past at a great rate, I 152 GEO R DIE PURDIE IN LONDON. could see that Dulvvich College is a graund new brick buildin', stannin' by itsel' in a lichtsome place anion' the fields, an' it was fine tae get glisks noo an' then o' the twa heich Toors o' the Palace risin' aboon the taps o' the roadside trees. " I canna get oot o' my mind thon deceivin' vagabond wha ran after us up the brae, carryin' what seemed a cripple callant on his back, an' haudin' a pair o' sma' hilties in his haund ; an' nae sooner did the captain fling a copper awa' doon the road ahent, than the auld scoon- drel let the laddie slip doon quick tae the grund, and the young scoondrel, takin' nae thocht o' the hilties that were a mere sham, ran back as hard as he could skelter after the rowin' penny piece." " It's an old dodge that," said Davy ; " I remember once, when paying a visit of curiosity to a New Cut penny-gaff, seeing a fellow whom I had noticed sitting, with bandaged legs and crutches, beside his coloured chalk drawings on the pavement in a recess of Black- friars Bridge, actually dancing a hornpipe on the rickety stage, amid the acclamations of a select audience, who should have shouted, ' Go it, ye cripples !'" " But nane o' yer penny-gaff dancin', Davy," exclaimed George, " could come up tae thon we saw in the Opera Hoose o' the Palace, whun half a hunner limmers o' lassies were flichterin' aboot the stage in cutty sarks " " I declare, Nelly," sang out Davy, addressing Mrs Mathieson, " our grand-dad from the country has been better pleased with the performances of the ballet-girls in the Harvest Fete than with anything else he saw the whole day !" " Hout, tout ! nae sic thing," responded Geordie, with IN THE CRYSTAL PALACE. 153 some impatience ; " haud ye there, Davy, an' I'll tell ye what I thocht o' the limmers gin ye just gie me time." " But we are runnin' away with the harrows, George," I interposed : " let us begin at the beginning, and tell us how you felt when you stood for the first time opposite the Handel Orchestra, under the great dome in the Cen- tral Transept, and surveyed the long vistas of the nave, running from end to end of the fairy-like structure, enriched with statues and shrubs and fountains — the intermingled products of nature and art." " Weel," replied Purdie, sagaciously, after rubbing his palm once or twice over his face, from brow to chin, as if to furbish up his ideas; " its easier 'tae feel than to tell ane's feelin's. I never thocht that the haund o' man could hae dune the like. It clean dumfoundered me tae conceive hoo a buildin' rising sae heich in the air on slim-lookin' pillars, an' stretchin' sae far awa' at baith ends, could staund firm an' soond on the tap o' a hill, bearin' the brunt o' a' the blasts that blaw wi' as stoot a heart maist as the Toor o' Lunnun itsel'." " There's no doubt you were dumfoundered," said Davy, with a smile, " because you stood with your beaver off as though you had been in Westminster Abbey, or in the presence of a superior officer, first bobbing back your head to scan the high glass roof of the dome, and then, slewing your face from side to side, looking from one end to another in apparent bewilderment. But the fact is, I felt very much the same myself when I went to the Palace for the first time." " And I," echoed the captain. " And I, too," re-echoed Malcolm. " An' a'body that has een tae see, surely," added i 5 4 CF.ORDIE PURDIE IN LONDON. Geordie, half stifling his words with the back of his hand as he brushed away the froth of a deep draught of Burton. " You are quite right, George," I said, "whether visitors are always conscious of it or not, it is the combination of lightness and elegance with vast height and length and breadth that makes the magnificent structure, designed by the genius of Sir Joseph Paxton, at once the surprise and delight of men so differently constituted as teetotal Good Templars and jovial Freemasons. And what struck you most," I proceeded to ask, " after your first wonder- ing looks upward and all around?" " I daursay," answered Geordie, " it was the heap o' braw-dressed folk, leddies an' gentlemen, sittin' on cane chairs at wee tables in front o' the Central Transept, an' a' sippin' an' suppin', clatterin' an' chatterin', just as if there was naething oot o' the ordinar tae see, or gin they had come tae the Crystal Palace for nae ither end than to clank doon on chairs, an' claver, an' spile their stamachs wi' cauld ice-creams an' fushinless French wines. " I dinna wonner at some o' them no lookin' aboot them, for Davy tells me that mony o' the gentry folk, wha hae guinea season tickets, gang there maist every day, an' we ken frae oorsels that use-an'-wont mak us unco care- less an' indifferent aboot mony things that are worth mair thocht than we gie them. Davy tell't me, tae, that there were Bath chairs for weakly bodies, an' perambulautors for bairns, an' pouny cairriages for them that are ower fat tae waddle, keepit for hire aboot the grunds ; so that, ye see, wi' a' sorts o' convenience ootside an' in, it's no sae sur- prisin' after a' that some o' the Lunnon gentry gang tae the Palace maist ilka day, whun the wather is onything gude. I saw some auld birkies soond sleepin', an' ithers ASCENT OF THE NORTH TOWER. 155 sittin' wi' their legs crossed, readin' the papers, foment the great big Orchestra, an' no fashin' their thoomb whun the organ — which they tell me conteens mair than fowre thoosan' an' a half pipes — began tae send its graund thunner-like soond through the haill buildin'." " Did you manage to get through much of the Palace before going to the Opera House?" I inquired of Davy and the Captain, because I knew that Purdie, on his first visit, could only have a bewildering impression on his mind of all the wonders he had seen. " Oh, yes," answered Davy, " we had some trouble in towing him along, especially when anything took a strong hold of his fancy ; but we visited all the courts — Egyptian, Greek, Roman, and the rest ; the Tropical Department ; the Aquarium ; the outside terraces of the Grounds ; and the four of us, leaving Nelly and the children below, actually mounted to the top gallery of the North Tower, although we were tired enough with being on our feet for hours before making the attempt. If it hadn't been for this " (suiting the action to the word by pulling a goodly- sized empty flask from his coat-pocket) " we could never have reached the gallery, I believe, though there are landings all the way up at intervals of twenty feet." " My jints are gey stiff yet," Geordie remarked, stretch- ing out his right leg below the table, and stroking it with his palm, — " the fac' is, we micht just as weel hae ta'en a half- hoor's turn on the treadmill — it couldna hae been muckle waur; but the view was graund — weel worth a' the sair jints — the haill o' Lunnon lyin' at your feet — a' the wind- in's o' the Thames — far- awa' on the ae side Windsor Castle, an' on the ither. lookin' through ane o' the pros- pects [telescopes] they keep up there, the day bein' fine 156 GE ORDIE PURDIE IN L OND ON. an' clear, we could see the Nore an' Harwich Licht- hooses. It was for a' the world like bein' up in a balloon." " And you were told, of course, why the towers, which are two hundred and eighty-two feet high, are called Water Towers ? " " Ay, that were we, an' gin I hadna seen the tank wi' my ain een, I would hae thocht onybody was tryin' tae draw my leg that should hae tell't me thoosan's o' gallons o' water were pumpit up there by engines to keep the great spoots playin' in front o' the Palace. The auld ninny-hammers that biggit the Toor o' Babel had naething like that. " Weel," added George, after a pause, in which he had recourse to his everlasting ' sneeshin',' " it was hard wark gaun up, an' it wasna muckle better comin' doon ; but, after bein' up there' and seein' what we saw, I dinna think I need fash mysel' noo aboot gettin' tae the tap o' St Paul's, whaur a body canna be sure o' risin' oot araon' the reek, though ye may be hunners o' feet abune the grund." " I'm right glad to hear so," blurted out Davy, bluntly — " that's one spin aloft the less for me. The deck is always better than the mast-head — isn't it, Captain ? " Captain Inkster assented with a meditative, half- slumbrous inclination of the head, his thoughts having apparently wandered away to Wapping or the Wire Skerries. His hopeful son effectually roused him up by taking a pinch between his forefinger and thumb from Geordie's box, and holding it under his nostrils until the particles ascended like small steel-filings attracted by loadstone. A sleep-scaring sneeze was the immediate THE AQUARIUM. 157 consequence, and the captain seemed to think at first that he had somehow caught a severe cold, probably on ac- count of being so long on land. ;i Do you mind, Nelly," said Davy, laughing, and knocking off the ashen end of his cigar, " do you mind of finding some difficulty in getting our grand-dad away from a group of statues in the nave ? If you had only been older-looking to match we would have had a live representation not unlike the picture common enough just now in printsellers' windows, in which a decent country-woman is shown taking her equally decent, bald- pated husband by the arm, and leading him away from his broad stare at a marble Venus with the simple, coaxing, beseeching words — ' Come awa', John.' " This good-humoured sally of Davy's gave us all a good laugh, in which Nelly and Purdie himself could not choose but join. " I'm quite sure, George," I said, "you would be very well pleased with all you saw in the Aquarium, which now forms one of the most interesting departments in the Palace?" " There's nae doot o' that," he responded eagerly — " I was mair than pleased, and I could hardly believe my een at first whim I saw the lang raw o' glass-faced tanks wi' funny-lookin' fish soomin' aboot in the clear, shiny, greenish water, an' crabs crawlin' ower the yellow sand, an' creepin' ferlies comin' oot o' holes and neuks in the rock-wark, just as a body micht see them daein' at the bottom o' the sea. There was a line o' air-bells aye steamin' in at the tap wi' the saut-water frae the pipes, an' I jaloused that was what keepit the tanks sae clear an' the fish an' ither ferlies sae brisk. Od, man, wha 158 GEORDIE PURDIE IN LONDON. could ever hae expectit tae see sae weel in a livin' state sic queer-lookih' creatures as cray-fish an' lobsters, wi' their goggle-een an' lang, sprawlin' legs an' horns, movin' aboot as gingerly as the bit lassie we saw ootbye here on stilts?" " You are right, George," I said ; " the lobster and cray-fish tank is perhaps the most wonderful and amus- ing of the whole range. The light, noiseless, and easy way in which they manage to scramble over each other with their long spindle-shanks, when they come in con- tact, has often given me a good laugh." '•' Lauch !" cried Geordie, "I was like tae spleet my sides watchin' a big monster o' a lobster that cam clawin' oot o' its cave in the rocks every noo an' then, like a de- voorin' dragon whun ony o' the cray-fish ventured ower near its place o' retreat. An' what a murderous vaga- bond the cuttle-fish was in anither tank ! He tried tae sidle up as pawkily as he could alangside the puir wee prawns that he feeds on, but they often got oot o' his clutches, dartin' up tae the surface o' the water wi' the lichtnin' speed o' desperation. The prawns hae a quick spinnin' motion, no oonlike that o' a dog whun it sooms, an' ye can see daylicht through them every time they munt up tae the middle o' their tank. " I could hae stood lang eneugh glowerin' at the licht genty movements o' the Hat fish that lookit as if they were fleein' through the air whun they were soomin' in the water. Some o' the folk there were makin' an unco ootcry aboot what they ca'd the octopus, but I could mak neither head nor tail o't, an' I thocht it would hae been a diversion tae hae seen the pawky auld partans in ither tanks naggin' at it wi' their nippers. There were twa par- AT THE OPERA HOUSE. 159 tans had a fecht, an' the leddies pressin' forrit set up a great skirl o' lauchin' whun ane o' the twa was coupit ower on the braid o' its back, an' couldna get up again for a lang time." " After the Aquarium, which must have put some new notions in your head, George, as well as given you amuse- ment, you would all go, I suppose, to witness the Harvest Fete performance at the Opera House?" " Ay, that's just what we did," replied Purdie to my query — " ye see, though some o's wanted tae stey langer, Davy there — wha never could abide crabs an' lobsters an' siclike sin' the day ane o' them claucht him by the muckle tae whun he was dookin' — was aye sayin' tae come awa', or we would hae tae pay anither shillin' a- piece, an' gang aloft tae the reserved seats. After payin' half-a-croon at the turnstiles (Saturday, ye ken, bein' the dear day), an' anither saxpence apiece tae get intae the Aquarium, we a' thocht it would be a waste o' siller to pay ony mair, an' sae aff we set tae the Opera House, an' just in time, as the folk were croodin' inside in hunners, an' sune filled a' the forms. " There was a bonny picture, far bigger than ony I saw at Greenwich Hospital, hingin' doon frae the roof foment oor seats, an' I thocht for a time that was a' we were gaun to see ; but the Captain, wha sat next me, tell't me it was only meant to hide the stage, an' gie the folk something tae look at afore the performance began. " Weel, after a gude while, a heap o' men, wi' fiddles an' ither instruments aneath their arms, cam in at a side door, an' sat doon in front o' the stage — ane o' them, wha had a heicher chair than the rest, takin' his seat wi' the air o' a prince. For five minutes or mair they did nae- 160 GEORDIE PURDIE IN LONDON. thing but turn ower the leaves o' their music-books, screw awa' at pegs, an' scrape on the catgut tae get their fiddles intae playin' trim. Then a' at ance, the leader, sittin' up heich in the middle, gied a sharp tap-tap-tap an' quick wave wi' the stick in his hand, an' oot brak the fiddles, big an' little, an' the wund instruments an' wee drums, in a crash o' music no oonlike the burstin' o' a dam. " The soond wasna like that o' ony tunes I ever heard afore, but it was graund an' cheery for a' that, an' it made the women-folk work their fans quicker, for the place was gettin' geyan close an' het. There was a screen, moved by machinery, gaed waffin' back and fore aneath ane o' the galleries, an' that helpit tae cool the air a bit. " At the ringin' o' a bell, the baund^cam oot wi' anither crash, up gied the curtain, an', lo an' behold ! there was the haill length an' breadth o' the stage thick wi' a thrang o' smirkin', floor-crooned, short-coatft hizzies linkin' an' lowpin' wi' a lot o' beardless lassie-faced loons, dressed in yellow stockin's, blue and white knee-breeches an' waist- coats, yellow jackets, an' yellow straw hats. A' roond the stage they gaed flingin' in pairs, keepin' time tae the music wi' their twinklin' legs an' feet, and then they danced doon the middle singin' a canty sang a' thegither, an' whurlin' aff, lads tae the ae side, lassies tae the ither, just whun ilka pair, as they cam kickin' forrit tae thefoot- lichts, lookit as if they were gaun tae coup ower on the heads o' the eident fiddlers." ,; Ye see," said Davy, after sniggering at this last queer touch of his father-in-law's scene-painting, "you see how the old gentleman has been taking stock of the legs twinkling beneath the gauze drapery and striped knee- HAR VEST RE VELS. 1 6 1 breeches, though he is ungallant enough to call the young ladies of the corps de ballet * hizzies,' and to pretend he didn't know the ' lassie-faced loons ' were real lassies in male attire." " I ken't naething o' the kind, Davy," replied Geordie, with some warmth. " Hoo, then, dae ye accoont for the lassies singin' wi' the voices o' men ?" " The male voices were the voices of men in the side- wings," answered Davy, " as we might perhaps have seen if our seats had been in either of the galleries near the stage. It took all the pretty pairs you saw to keep up the girls' part of the piping in the harvest revels." " Weel, ye're maybe richt, an' ye're maybe wrang, lad," said Geordie, not quite reconciled to this new view of the matter, " but I'm sure its very far wrang to let young lassies like thon wear the breeks sae sune at ony- rate." " And what was the plot of the Harvest Play, George?" I asked. '' Was there any love-making ? — any rival of honourable descent with dishonourable intentions cross- ing the path of unhappy Hodge ? — any vindictive old hag pouring poison into innocent ears?" " There micht be a story," responded Purdie, " but I didna try tae get haud o' the threed o't. There was plenty o' daffin' an' laughin' anion' the dancers, but gin they were a' lassies, as Davy says, we ken fine that ' butter tae butter mak's nae kitchen.' " Ae time they a' cam on the stage with heucks in their haunds an' sheaves on their shouthers, singin' a hairst sang; an' anither time, whun the curtain was drawn up again, they were a' whurlin' roond the Maypole that had a sheaf on the tap o't, haudin' on by the ends o' lang 1 6 2 GE ORDIE PUR DIE IN L OND ON ribbons, buskit \vi' floors an' leaves, — first the lassies in the inside, an' the lassie-loons on the ootside, dancin' an jiggin' contrar ways, an' then the lassies on the ootside an' the lassie-loons in the inside, singin' wi' men's voices, an' makin' the pole shake till it fell doun wi' a reeshle an' clatter, an' set a' the folk a-lauchin'. It was, the Captain tell't me, a Maypole ; but what for they set it up at the end o' the English hairst, I dinna ken." " The fete," I said, " seems to have been made up of a medley of old English sports, selected more for pic- turesque effects than the appropriateness to the time of the year, and probably the setting up of the Maypole in autumn was intended to symbolise the sisterly relations of the seasons." Later in the day, Purdie and his friends having spent a portion of the interval in visiting other parts of the Palace, and strolling about the spacious terraces and pleasure grounds, were seated opposite the great Handel Orchestra, among a crowd of other auditors, listening to the choral chants of some four thousand school children. They were all tidily dressed, and Geordie, from his own enthusiastic account, enjoyed the sight of them rising up tier after tier almost as much as the sound of their sweet voices swelling up to the grand cavity of the dome. After witnessing a spectacle of this kind, and hearing the fine effect of multitudinous voices singing in chorus, visitors with a lively imagination may form some idea of the grandeur of the triennial Handel Festivals, which stir sublime emotions even in the dullest hearts. " I liket," said Purdie, " the singin' o' the bairns on the Orchestra an' the soond o' the organ far better than the kickin' an' flingin' on the stage o' the Opera House, CRIB B A GE AND O CKUM A GAIN. 1 6 j though that was amusin' eneugh in its way tae, ye ken. But wha dae ye think I saw whun we were walkin' through the grunds, lookin' at the Chinese Pagoda, the fountains, an' the floors?" he asked, suddenly recol- lecting something that seemed to have escaped his memory. " Perhaps your ' auld acquaintances,' Cribbage an' Ockum," I answered, drawing my bow at a venture. " Ye're a warlock at guessin'," exclaimed Geordie; " it was nae ither ; they were far better put on than whun I saw them afore ; they had shinin' butes an' hats, and had gude coats on their backs ; but though little Ockum wore nae barnacles this time, an' big Cribbage, besides bein' a' shorn an' shaven, sportit a braw white waistcoat, I kent them weel eneugh as they gaed by on the ither side o' the braid walk ; an' the vagabond Cribbage kent me weel eneugh tae, for I noticed him gleyin' at me wi' the tail o' his blackguard e'e, and giein' Ockum a nudge on the airm. I wanted tae get at them, but Davy " " Yes ; but Davy," broke in the mate himself, " would let you do nothing of the kind. I bet a hundred to one at the time that you were mistaken ; and I do so now again, because there are dozens of people in London who bear a close enough resemblance to each other to cause mistakes ; and you would only have kicked up a needless row that might have got us all into a scrape." " Weel, what for did they luk ower their shouthers at me, after we had gane bye ten or twal yairds?" " How do you know they were looking at you at all?" asked Davy in turn, smiling jocosely — " it might be at Nelly and the bairns, or the Captain, or the whole lot of us, thinking mayhap we were country visitors." 164 GEORDIE PURDTE IN LONDON. " I'll tell ye what, Davy," responded Geordie, clinching the argument and closing the dispute ; " I'll believe my ain een suner than ony ither man's word." " Here's t'ye !" exclaimed the Captain, draining oft" his last drops of grog — " I like to see a man, right or wrong, holding on firm by the rope of his own opinion." Purdie had a good deal more to tell us about the Palace, but I am unwilling to overtax the patience of my courteous readers, and it is now time to bring this plea- sant party and these discursive chapters to a close. From the Crystal Palace, as we have seen, George and the rest of the company returned safely in the two-horsed drag by the same way they went, stopping for a brief half-hour at that delightful suburban hostelry, " The Half Moon," which is a favourite halting - place of cricketers, excursionists, and wayfarers on the southern side of the metropolis. They had purposed calling a halt at Dulwich to have a look at the noble pictures of the Old Masters preserved in the secluded suburban Art Gallery, which was founded in 1811 by Sir Peter Francis Bourgeois, R.A., and Noel Joseph Desenfans ; but it was past the closing hour before they arrived at the village on their homeward journey. I had intended accompanying Geordie to the Houses of Parliament and Westminster Abbey, and also to an- other place of quite a different kind he was also anxious to visit — namely, Madame Tussaud's celebrated Waxwork Exhibition at Baker Street ; but circumstances prevented me from seeing him again after this evening, as the death of a relative at Kilpirnie took him back sooner than was at first intended. I was happy to learn, however, that BACK BY SEA. 165 Davy had acted as his cicerone, and that he did not re- quire to go home without being able to say that he had visited the Palaces and the Mall, the Poets' Corner, the choir, chapels, and cloisters in the old historic Abbey, and " taken a seat " in the House of Commons when our ordinary legislators were on the moors busily engaged in grouse-shooting. He was also accompanied by Davy early one morning to Covent Garden Market, where he saw an amount of hurry-scurry, knock-'im-over traffic, and a wealth of vegetables, flowers, and fruits that filled him with amazement, and supplied him, we may be sure, with materials for fireside description for many days to come. His son-in-law was likewise his companion when he went to the Tabernacle at Newington - Butts to hear Spurgeon, whose sermons he takes in regularly for Sunday reading, and he had thus the satisfaction of telling his acquaintances that he had listened in his own church to one of the raciest, sincerest, and most effective preachers of the day. Like many other country visitors who have their holi- days in autumn, our friend was somewhat unfortunate in coming up to town at a time of the year when the " London Season " is over, and when he was thus de- prived of the opportunity of seeing Rotten Row crowded with aristocratic riders of both sexes, and the Hyde Park carriage-drive made animated and brilliant by the splendid whirling equipages of the world of rank and fashion. His remarks on the class of sights indicated would not, I feel certain, have wanted the preserving salt of raciness. Geordie went back by sea, sailing in the steamship Iona from the Hermitage Steam Wharf, at Wapping, to Leith. He thought he would " see better aboot him on 1 66 GEORDIE PURDIE IN LONDON. board ship " than if he were to travel all the distance again in a railway train. The blue-painted " kist," which had brought him into trouble on his first arrival in London, went back with him in the " Iona " better filled even than when it was conveyed to town by the Great Northern line. In addition to a suit of clothes of London make for him- self, a " braw new goon " for his niece, who acted as his housekeeper, and toys — consisting of tramway cars, miniature railway trains, and Japanese cymbal-playing girls on velocipedes — for some grand-children, the box contained choice samples of the wonderful fruits and vegetables sold at Covent Garden market ; and Purdie was delighted at the idea that his posse of marrows, cucumbers, and pine-apples would take down the pride of two or three of his chief cronies, who plumed them- selves on producing prodigies of potatoes, carrots, and gooseberries. A letter, duly received at Gladstone Row, though the address might have been written with a " brunt stick," announced the safe arrival of genial Geordie Purdie at Kilpirnie, in the Kingdom of Fife. Commercial Printing Company, Edinburgh Publishing in Twelve Monthly Paris, Price Sixpence each, THE BOOK OF SCOTTISH ANECDOTE; HUMOROUS, SOCIAL, LEGENDARY, AND HISTORICAL. By ALEXANDER HISLOP, EDITOR OF THE "PROVERBS OF SCOTLAND," "ADVERSARIA," ETC. OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. " Mr Hislop's studies and researches have been such as to qualify him to add to the rich stores of recorded Scotch anecdote." — Daily Review. "The numbers of this amusing and edifying work which have been published have met with approbation in every quarter. The extracts are not only humorous and social, but they are legendary and historical ; that is, all of the quotations partake of at least one of these qualities, while the most of them partake of two or three, or all, of these qualities. 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