Chapter Six. A Cabmans Story
There was one old chap as I drove regular; he used to come to my stand twice a week, and after the first time I always knew what to do. Ah! he was a fine old chap, and had been a orficer or somethin of that sort. Big mustarsh, yer know, and whiskers white as snow, and a hye! Ah, his was a hye, his were! Talk about tellin soldiers to charge! why, they couldnt do no other with him a lookin at em; though if he hadnt been a good sort I dont think as I could have done much in charging my fashion, you know. It was a pleasure to see him walk as upright as his old gold-headed cane. Seven bob a week he was to me reglar, and I used to look out for his old white head a-coming round the corner about three oclock in the arternoon, and then I used to drive him right off to Kensal-green Cemetery, where hed get down, and I always waited for him half an hour, when out hed come, looking as fierce and stiff as ever, get into the keb, Home, hed say, giving his stick a bit of a flourish, just as if it were a sword; and home it was.
About the seccun time we went, I walks permiscus up to the gatekeeper stiff-looking chap, too, with only one eye, and a touch o the kmishionaire about him, only he hadnt got no empty sleeve hanging to his button and didnt wear no mustarchers; but all the same, I sets him down as having handled the musket some time, and so he had. Well, I walks up to him slowly and spectfully, showin him all the time as I knowd as I was only a kebman, and had learned to order myself lowly and reverently to all my betters, you know; and this iled him a bit, so as he went easy, and we got into conversation. I draws him on by degrees; for these gatekeepers is werry great swells in their way, as any one may see for hisself by getting a haporth o curds and whey at one of the parks, and studying the inflooence of a gold band round a mans hat. Taint everybody as notices it, but its wonderful how that ere yaller metal stiffens a fellers neck. Look at flunkeys, for instance decent chaps enough, some on em, till they gets a bit o lace on their hats, and then theyre as proud on it as a fresh-moulted cockatoo. Never wore no lace on my hat; but shouldnt mind wearing a little more nap.
Lets see where had I got to? Ah, I know. Most extinguished myself with them gold-band hats. You see, I was a saying as them gatekeepers is big swells, and wants careful handling. Theyre the sort of chaps that wun would like to buy at wuns own wallyation and sell at theirs. Payin spec that to anybody; only Im fraid as the market would soon get choked. Well, fust thing I does is to fall werry much in love with the flowers in his windy, and quite spectfully arsts the name of em; when, bein a bit of a gardener, he comes out with some thunderin great furrin word, as I knows jolly well he didnt know the meanin on; and I says, Oh! as if I was werry much obliged, and takes hold o one werry gently, and has a smell,
and then thinks a great deal o the size of the blossoms, and so on; till, as if it was takin a great liberty, I arsts if he couldnt cut me just one. Jest what he wanted, yer know; and making a terrible fuss over it, and explaining the wally of the plant, he snips me off a bit, and I sticks it in my button-hole, while he looked as pleased as some o those old buffers in white weskets as puts shillings in plates when theres a klection, and then thinks as theyve been patrons: for some folks do love to be arskt favours, and then comes the grandee as they grants em.
So then I goes on a fishin and a fishin, and calls him sir, and arsts his opinion of Common Garden, and so on, till at last I hooks him, and
Coo-o-ome orn! What are yer up to, Nosey? Never was such a oss as you for lookin arter the main chance. That wasnt a sixpence, stoopid, and if it was Id a got off and picked it up without yer going down on yer knees. Never was such a oss as this here, sir. Hes a Paddy come out of a Roman Catholic country, yer know; and blest if he aint allus a tryin to go down on his knees. Fancies every crossin-sweeper he sees is a holy father, and wants to confess, I suppose. Its a natteral weakness of his, and its taken all the hair off his knees. I paints em up a bit so as to hide the worst of it, but hes allus a tryin it on. Get along, do.
Well, I hooks him, you know the gatekeeper, I means and arter playin him a bit he was as civil as you please; gets down off his stilts, and was ready to tell me anything. So then I gets to know as my gentleman was an old colonel as had buried a daughter there two months afore, and had allus come twice a week ever since to have a look at the place. An, says Mr Crusp that was the gatekeepers name an, as you may find out yourself if you go, Ive got geranums an stocks, an werbenas, quite a show on em, for the old gentleman said he should like to see some flowers there. And just then out comes the old orficer, and I drives off.
Well, sir, things goes on like this here for a matter o months, and
Just look at that, now. Coome orn, stoopid. Blest if ever there was sich a oss. Its pounds outer my pocket; but the guvnor dont care, bless yer, as long as I take in my reglar dose every day. Jest look at that, now; pulling up short right in the middle of the road, cos them Jarmans was blowin up a row. Likes music, I spose; so do I, when I can get it good, and so does everybody, it seems to me. I was a talking to a gentleman only tother day, jest as I may be to you, and he says, says he, Its my opinion that if you give the working classes good music, joined to good words, they wouldnt notice them rubbishing music-hall things, as only goes down because theyre tacked on to a pretty tune. And hes right, yer know, and hes a man as has done a good deal towards improving the working people. Why, only see if a pretty tune comes up if it isnt whistled and sung all over the town ah, and the country too in no time; and whats more, it aint forgotten neither. Yer see, to like yer fine books and poetry a man wants eddication; but it comes nateral to him to love a pretty tune. I aint up to much, yer know, but I cant stand the rubbish as folks goes and wags their heads to and what for? only because they cant get anything better. Who says common folks dont love music! Just take em and show em the crowds arter the soldiers and volunteer bands, and in the parks, and then, perhaps, theyll alter their tune; and look at that, now, if I aint gone right away from the story. Shouldnt do for a speaker, I shouldnt, for it seems to me as Im like my old oss, Nosey allus wants to turn down the fust turning as comes. There he goes. Coo-o-me orn.