Real Life In London, Volumes I. and II. Egan Pierce
counting his beads—a third descanting on the good qualities of his departed friend, and about to try those of the whiskey—a fourth evacuating that load with which he had already overloaded himself—a fifth, declaring he could carry a fare, hear mass, knock down a member of parliament, murder a peace officer, and after all receive a pension: and while the priest was making an assignation with a sprightly female sprig of Shelalah, another was jonteelly picking his pocket. I had seen enough, and having no desire to continue in such company, made my escape with as much speed as I could from this animated group of persons, assembled as they were upon so solemn an occasion.”
With conversation of this kind, the party were amused up St. Martin's lane, and on the remainder of the road to Bow-street, followed by many persons, some of whom pretended to have seen a part of the proceedings, and promised to give their evidence before the magistrate, who was then sitting.
On arriving in Bow Street, they entered the Brown Bear,{1} a public-house, much frequented by the officers, and in which is a strong-room for the safe custody of prisoners, where they were shewn into a dark back-parlour, as they termed it, and the officer proceeded to search the man in custody, when lo and behold! the handkerchief was not to be found about him.
Pat d——d the devil and all his works—swore “by the fiery furnace of Beelzebub, and that's the devil's own bed-chamber, that was the man that nibbled the Jontleman's dive,{2} and must have ding'd away the wipe,{3} or else what should he bolt{4} for?—that he was up to the rum slum,{5}
1 A former landlord of the house facetiously christened it
the Russian Hotel, and had the words painted under the sign
of Bruin.
2 Nibbled the Jontleman's dive—Picked the gentleman's pocket. 3 Ding'd away the wipe—Passed away the handkerchief to another, to escape detection. This is a very common practice in London: two or three in a party will be near, without appearing to have the least knowledge of, or connexion with each other, and the moment a depredation is committed by one, he transfers the property to one of his pals, by whom it is conveyed perhaps to the third, who decamps with it to some receiver, who will immediately advance money upon it; while, if any suspicion should fall upon the first, the second will perhaps busy himself in his endeavours to secure the offender, well knowing no proof of possession can be brought against him. 4 Bolt—Run away; try to make an escape. 5 Rum slum—Gammon—queer talk or action, in which some fraudulent intentions are discoverable or suspected.
and down upon the kiddies{1}—and sure enough you're boned,{2} my dear boy.”
Some of the officers came in, and appeared to know the prisoner well, as if they had been acquainted with each other upon former official business; but as the lost property was not found upon him, it was the general opinion that nothing could be done, and the accused began to exercise his wit upon Murphy, which roused Pat's blood:
“For the least thing, you know, makes an Irishman roar.”
At length, upon charging him with having been caught blue-pigeon flying,{3} Pat gave him the lie in his teeth—swore he'd fight him for all the blunt{4} he had about him, “which to be sure,” said he, “is but a sweet pretty half-a-crown, and be d——d to you—good luck to it! Here goes,” throwing the half-crown upon the floor, which the prisoner attempted to pick up, but was prevented by Pat's stamping his foot upon it, while he was doffing his jacket,{5} exclaiming—
“Arrah, be after putting your dirty fingers in your pocket, and don't spoil the King's picture by touching it—devil burn me, but I'll mill your mug to muffin dust{6} before I'll give up that beautiful looking bit; so tip us your mauley,{7} and no more blarney.”
1 Down upon the Kiddies—To understand the arts and
manouvres of thieves and sharpers.
2 Boned—Taken or secured.
s Blue pigeon flying—The practice of stealing lead from
houses, churches, or other buildings. A species of
depredation very prevalent in London and its vicinity, and
which is but too much encouraged by the readiness with which
it can be disposed of to the plumbers in general.
4 Blunt—A flash term for money.
5 Doffing his Jacket—Taking off his jacket.
6 Mill your mug to muffin dust—The peculiarity of the Irish
character for overstrained metaphor, may perhaps, in some
degree, account for the Hibernian's idea of beating his head
to flour, though he was afterwards inclined to commence his
operations in the true style and character of the prize
ring, where
“Men shake hands before they box, Then give each other
plaguy knocks, With all the love and kindness of a brother.”
7 Tip us your mauley—Give me your hand. Honour is so sacred
a thing with the Irish, that the rapid transition from a
violent expression to the point of honour, is no uncommon
thing amongst them; and in this instance it is quite clear
that although he meant to mill the mug of his opponent to
muffin dust, he had a notion of the thing, and intended to
do it in an honourable way.
During this conversation, the spectators, who were numerous, were employed in endeavouring to pacify the indignant Hibernian, who by this time had buffid it, or, in other words, peeled in prime twig,{1} for a regular turn to.{2} All was noise and confusion, when a new group of persons entered the room—another capture had been made, and another charge given. It was however with some difficulty that honest Pat Murphy was prevailed upon to remain a little quiet, while one of the officers beckoned Dashall out of the room, and gave him to understand that the man in custody, just brought in, was a well-known pal{3} of the one first suspected, though they took not the least notice of each other upon meeting. In the mean time, another officer in the room had been searching the person of the last captured, from whose bosom he drew the identical handkerchief of Bob; and the Irishman recollected seeing him in the crowd opposite the Opera House.
This cleared up the mystery in some degree, though the two culprits affected a total ignorance of each other. The property of the person who had given the last charge was also discovered, and it was deemed absolutely necessary to take them before the Magistrate. But as some new incidents will arise on their introduction to the office, we shall reserve them for the next Chapter.
1 Buff'd it, or peeled in prime twig—Stripped to the skin
in good order. The expressions are well known, and
frequently in use, among the sporting characters and lovers
of the fancy.
2 Turn to, or set to—The commencement of a battle.
3 Pal—A partner or confederate.
CHAPTER VIII
Houses, churches, mixt together,
Streets unpleasant in all weather;
Prisons, palaces contiguous,
Gates, a bridge—the Thames irriguous;
Gaudy things, enough to tempt ye,
Showy outsides, insides empty;
Bubbles, trades, mechanic arts,
Coaches, wheelbarrows, and carts;
Warrants,