Street cries of the world

CITY CRIES.

Y’ERE’S THE SUN, HERALD, AND LEDGER!

OF all the cries heard in our streets, the most vociferous are those of the news-boys selling the regular and the extra newspapers. These industrious but noisy urchins collect in great numbers around the doors of the different printing offices, whenever an extra is expected to be issued; and the moment they have received their customary supply, they disperse themselves through the city, bawling with all the strength of their lungs: “Extry Ledger! Extry Times! Extry News! Great victory! Two thousand Mexicans killed! Santy Anny’s leg captured! Have an extry, mister? Great news! ”

Sometimes the tune is varied to something of this sort: “Extry Herald! ’Rival of the Cambry! Extry Times! Steamer in! jist ’rived. French Revolution! Ten thousand people killed! Have an extry? ”

These boys are at times extremely importunate, stopping passengers in the streets, thrusting their papers in one’s face, and crying out lustily for a sale. They penetrate into the hotels occasionally; but there they are extremely quiet, for fear of a summary dismission from the premises. They creep about the reading-room with the most subdued air, and offer their papers, with a whispered recommendation, to each of the gentlemen present. Their demeanour in the hotels and in the streets present a most amusing contrast.

The newspaper boys are noisy little fellows but their industry, and the belief which prevails that most of them contribute to the support of little brothers and sisters, commend them to general favour. We laugh at their bad pronunciation, and buy their papers.

CHARCOAL!

CHARCOAL, for kindling fires, is consumed in great quantities in the city. It is brought in from the country in large carts, and sold by the barrel. The price, for several years, has been about thirty-five cents per barrel. The charcoalman, in former years, used to announce his arrival by blowing a shrill blast on a long tin trumpet. But this hideous noise was found to be so distressing to sick people, living in the streets through which the charcoal-man passed, that an ordinance was passed by the city authorities, interdicting the use of the trumpet.

But the charcoal-man was not to be silenced in this way. Deprived of the use of his trumpet, he immediately had recourse to the handbell; and it is by this means that he now makes known to the good people that they can be supplied with charcoal for kindling their fires.

The charcoal-man, to confess the sober truth, is not a very beautiful object. He is not very particular about his dress. Indeed any attempt at dandyism would be quite superfluous; for the coal-dust covers him all over. His clothes, and even his face and hands, are completely blackened with it; and although in his natural and original state he is a white man, he exhibits the appearance of one of the sable sons of Africa.

Charcoal is made by burning, or rather charring the wood in a coal-kiln, where the fire is nearly smothered, to prevent the complete combustion of the wood. The making and selling of it is a source of considerable profit; particularly so to some of those ingenious venders who have a knack of making a barrel of charcoal out of a bushel, or even less.

SWEEP! OH!

WHEN a little boy just arrived in town from the country, for the first time, wakes up in the morning, he hears a sound which surprises and puzzles him not a little. It is the shrill piercing voice of a child, singing at the utmost stretch of his powers, a strange, wild song, of which the wondering country boy cannot make out a single word; for the very good reason that it has no words, but is a succession of strange inarticulate shrieks, modulated into a sort of tune, always nearly the same, and always recognised as the song of the Chimney Sweep.

Poor child! he is greatly to be pitied. Bound apprentice to a hard-hearted, brutal master when he is almost an infant, he is compelled to earn a miserable support by climbing up the flues of chimneys, scraping off the soot which is choking them, and carrying it away. It is a dreadful trade, and must necessarily impair the health and break the constitution of the most healthy child. But these poor children of the African race are by no means hardy. It takes but little hardship to break them down completely; and but few of them can long pursue this business without utterly destroying their health.

Fortunately for the race, the introduction of anthracite coal for fuel has rendered it necessary to call for their services only at very long intervals; and the song of the sweep is now seldom heard in our streets, waking the echoes at sunrise. We hope that some means may be devised which will enable us to dispense with their services altogether; and for ever silence that dismal, heart-rending music.

FIRE! FIRE!

THE figure in the engraving is a fireman who, having heard the alarm of the bell, announcing fire, was the first to reach the Engine-house, which entitled him to wear the “Director’s belt,” and to carry the “horn,” through which he continually shouts some cheering words or sounds, understood by his comrades only. How often, while carefully wrapped up in a warm bed, have we listened to the heavy rumbling of the engine, and thought of the poor fireman who has just been aroused from his comfortable slumber, to assist in putting out a fire, the work, perhaps, of some wicked incendiary. He goes probably to take a cold which will bring him to a bed of sickness, ay, death! and all purely for love, as he asks no reward; for if he can only by some act of daring distinguish himself, he is, in his own estimation, amply rewarded.

In the midst of the confusion a mother misses a child, her piercing shriek has reached a fire man’s ears, who, regardless of danger, dashes into the thickest smoke and flames, snatches up the child, and scorched, and nearly stifled, he regains the street, bearing his precious burthen to its mother’s fond embrace; her blessings are showered down, but the deed, to him, is a sufficient reward.

SHAD! BUY ANY SHAD?

THE shad season commences in the latter part of the month of March. The first supply comes from the south, and is sold at a pretty high rate. But not many days elapse before these fishes make their appearance in our rivers, and then the shad women commence their perambulations and cries in the streets.

Shad are obtained in large quantities, in the spring and summer seasons, all along the coast of the United States, from Georgia to Maine. The shad is a large species of herring, which inhabits the sea near the mouths of large rivers, and in the spring ascends them for the purpose of depositing its spawn in the shallow waters about their sources. The young fry remain for a season in the waters which gave them birth, but on the approach of cold weather, descend the rivers, and take refuge in the ocean. The old ones return likewise, but at this time are emaciated, and unfit for food. The shad which frequents our American waters is supposed to be of a different species from the European. It usually weighs four or five pounds, but sometimes twelve. During the season, they are an important source of profit to the inhabitants on the shores of the Connecticut, the Hudson, Delaware, and Chesapeake. Great quantities are preserved by salting and smoking, but are much less esteemed than when eaten fresh.

WHITE-WASH.

THE white-wash man, with his pail and long-handled brush, has laid aside his horse and saw, or other implements of winter labour, and sallied forth in quest of some tidy housewife in want of his services, and if the spring be fairly opened, he need not go far, for who is there that does not at that season require his services? When I ask who is there, I mean what lady, for in many instances the other sex would prefer winter all the year round, to having their books and papers disturbed to make way for the general cleaning which is as sure to come as the spring. These white-wash gentlemen are very proud of their “profession.” “They have white-washed in the best families for years, no occasion to cover the furniture or carpets, they never splash.” Pleased to have found at last a man who understands his profession, the lady retires with her mind relieved, but alas! she soon finds “the professor” to be no better than other professors she had before employed.

Wall paper, owing to the improvement of late years in its manufacture, from its cheapness and beauty, is fast superseding the necessity for the white-washer. Paper looks better, and is more economical, and is much used in Boston. Some people prefer to paint their walls – this is very much the case in New York.

BUY A BUST 0F GENERAL TAYLOR?

THE itinerant seller of plaster casts is a regular street figure in all our great cities. By means of a few worn-out moulds which he has brought from. Italy, the poor man makes a stock of casts, and mounting them on a board, cries them about the streets. He is not at all particular about prices. If he gets a piece of silver for his piece of plaster, his object seems to be gained so that if you really do not wish to purchase, it is rather dangerous to offer him a quarter of a dollar for the bust which he wishes you to buy at two dollars.

When he has followed this street traffic for a few years, he has amassed money enough to begin business on a larger scale; and accordingly he hires a shop, and commences the making and selling of all sorts of plaster casts. He will model your bust, giving a very formidable likeness; or cast you a leaden Venus and Apollo to place on pedestrals in your garden; or copy a pair of Canova’s Nymphs to place in your hall. Instead of carrying a small shop on his head through the streets, he now sends forth a little army of his compatriots, poor expatriated Romans or Tuscans, regretting the glorious skies of Italy, while they are selling busts of the glorious heroes of America. When our seller of casts has made his fortune, he will go home and purchase a villa on the delightful shores of Lake Como; and tell his descendants what a wretched country is America.

OYSTERS! PRINCE’S BAY OYSTERS!

OYSTERS form a favourite article of diet with the good people of every city in the season, and immense quantities of them are brought from the oyster-beds on the sea-coast, and sold at the wharves to the innumerable dealers who supply the citizens.

The oyster-trade, now so very considerable, is of recent origin. We have been assured by a middle-aged gentleman, who has always resided in this city since his birth, that he can remember the time when there was but one oyster-seller in the city, who conveyed his small stock from house to house in a wheelbarrow, to which he had ingeniously attached a small table, with its modest furniture, consisting of a small tin plate, some forks, a vinegar cruet, a salt-cellar, and a pepper-box. He would stop before a citizen’s door when called, spread his table, open his half dozen oysters, which the customer would partake of al fresco – in the open air.

Little did the ancient oyster-dealer anticipate that within the life-time of one man, he would be succeeded by thousands of his tribe—that oystershops would be opened in almost every street, and oyster-carts present themselves in a hundred different places, and that nearly all these people would drive a successful and lucrative business.

The oyster-cart, such as we have represented in the engraving, is now one of the most common objects which present themselves at the corners of the streets. Many of them have regular stands, where they are to be found nearly every day through the season.

STRAWBERRIES!

AMONG the merriest and most welcome of all the cries heard in our streets in summer, is that of “Strawberries! Fine ripe Strawberries! ” The strawberry-women are so numerous in the season, that one cannot help wondering where they all come from. Great quantities of this excellent fruit are raised in gardens in the neighbourhood of the city; and for many years the quantity and size of our strawberries has been increasing, while the price has been as regularly decreasing. This, of course, is owing to the increased attention which is paid to the cultivation of the fruit by gardeners and farmers.

Under the auspices of the Horticultural Society, many improved kinds of strawberries have been brought into notice recently; and some of these are so large and luscious that they command a very high price; being eagerly sought for the tables of the luxurious. They are chiefly to be found at the shops of the great confectioners.

Our strawberry-woman, however, is often able to accommodate the housekeeper, who is attracted to the front door by her cry of “Ripe Strawberries! ” with a very nice article, and at a very moderate price.

In the best confectioneries, you pay twenty-five cents for a plate of strawberries and cream; but the woman who carries them through the street on her head, is often satisfied with less than that for a whole quart. In the markethouse you are served with a plate of strawberries and cream for a shilling.

CHERRIES! FINE RIPE CHERRIES!

“FINE Ripe Cherries!” This is a delightful sound to the boys and girls, when it is first heard in the smiling month of May. The neat-handed country girl who carries them about the streets, is everywhere as welcome as flowers in spring. She is very accommodating to her young customers as well as the older ones. She sells to the housekeeper by the quart; but in order not to disappoint the little folks, who have just been begging some pennies of Papa for that very purpose, she has little bunches tied together by the stems, for which she considerately charges but a penny a bunch.

To confess the truth, however, these bunches are very small; and when one has been actually eaten up, it seems a very, very poor penny-worth. A week or two later after the cherries first come to market, however, the bunches increase in size; and before the season is over, the urchin gets for his penny quite a large handful of cherries. By this time strawberries, dewberries, raspberries, whortleberries, and even the luscious peaches are soliciting his appetite the cherries have come to be very lightly esteemed.

We have in our markets a great variety both of wild and garden cherries. There is the common red cherry, the ox-heart, the black-heart, the honey-dew, the black Tartarian, purple Guique, the May Duke, the Late Duke, and a great many more of the cultivated sorts; besides the large and small wild black cherries, used for making cherry-bounce, a sweet, but intoxicating and unwholesome drink.

The cherry-seller frequents our streets during the whole summer.

BLACKBERRIES!

NEXT after the raspberries in season, come the Blackberries. This fruit is very abundant in our neighbourhood, if we may judge from the quantity offered in the markets, and cried about the streets every summer.

These berries grow wild, upon tall bushes, like the raspberry. They are not cultivated in gardens at present, but it is possible, that at some future day, they may become the object of attention to gardeners; and that their quality and flavour may be thus improved, as has been the case with many other wild berries and fruits, both in Europe and the United States.

The blackberry-women are very numerous in the season, when the fruit is ripe. They are to be met in in almost all the great streets, crying with great vigour and perseverance, “Blackberries! Fine ripe Blackberries! Buy any blackberries, Sir? Have some of these nice ripe berries, ma’am? They’re mighty cheap! only eight cents a quart! They will soon be done, ma’am; the season is nearly over. You’d better take four quarts, ma’am. You shall have the four quarts for thirty-one cents, ma’am. You can’t get them so cheap out of the carts, ma’am.”

But it often happens that all this eloquence is thrown away, and “the lady of the house” prefers raspberries for her dessert.

PEACHES!

“Peaches, Oh! Here dey go! ” In the latter part of summer, this cry is heard all day long, in every part of the city. The culture of peaches has increased to so prodigious an extent of late years, that our market has been quite glutted with them. Cart-loads upon cart-loads are offered at the corners of the principal streets, and every one can enjoy to his heart’s content, the flavour of this excellent fruit.

Peaches, when fully ripe, are undoubtedly wholesome fruit. But we must caution our juvenile friends against too free an indulgence of their appetite, even for peaches; and particularly we must caution them against partaking of this fruit in an unripe state. Nothing is more certain to make them sick. And even when they are ever so ripe, and ever so agreeable to the taste, it is very dangerous to indulge in them to excess.

We have a great variety of peaches in our market during the summer season. Of these the Rare-ripe is our favourite. Its flavour is perfectly delicious. The largest and finest kinds always bear a high price; but the inferior kinds are sold at a very cheap rate.

Sometimes it happens that the peach crop suffers severely from the nipping of the buds by the late frosts in spring; but this seldom happens. In most seasons our market is abundantly supplied with this excellent fruit.