OF THE COSTERMONGERS ON THEIR COUNTRY ROUNDS.
Some costermongers go what they term “country rounds,” and they speak of their country expeditions as if they were summer excursions of mere pleasure. They are generally variations from a life growing monotonous. It was computed for me that at present three out of every twenty costermongers “take a turn in the country” at least once a year. Before the prevalence of railways twice as many of these men carried their speculations in fish, fruit, or vegetables to a country mart. Some did so well that they never returned to London. Two for instance, after a country round, settled at Salisbury; they are now regular shopkeepers, “and very respectable, too,” was said to me, “for I believe they are both pretty tidy off for money; and are growing rich.” The railway communication supplies the local-dealer with fish, vegetables, or any perishable article, with such rapidity and cheapness that the London itinerant’s occupation in the towns and villages about the metropolis is now half gone.
In the following statement by a costermonger, the mode of life on a country round, is detailed with something of an assumption of metropolitan superiority.
“It was fine times, sir, ten year back, aye, and five year back, in the country, and it ain’t so bad now, if a man’s known. It depends on that now far more than it did, and on a man’s knowing how to work a village. Why, I can tell you if it wasn’t for such as me, there’s many a man working on a farm would never taste such a nice thing as a fresh herring--never, sir. It’s a feast at a poor country labourer’s place, when he springs six-penn’orth of fresh herrings, some for supper, and some in salt for next day. I’ve taken a shillings’-worth to a farmer’s door of a darkish night in a cold autumn, and they’d a warm and good dish for supper, and looked on me as a sort of friend. We carry them relishes from London; and they like London relishes, for we know how to set them off. I’ve fresh herringed a whole village near Guildford, first thing in the morning. I’ve drummed round Guildford too, and done well. I’ve waked up Kingston with herrings. I’ve been as welcome as anything to the soldiers in the barracks at Brentwood, and Romford, and Maidstone with my fresh herrings; for they’re good customers. In two days I’ve made 2_l._ out of 10_s._ worth of fresh herrings, bought at Billingsgate. I always lodge at a public-house in the country; so do all of us, for the publicans are customers. We are well received at the public-houses; some of us go there for the handiness of the ‘lush.’ I’ve done pretty well with red herrings in the country. A barrel holds (say) 800. We sell the barrels at 6_d._ a piece, and the old women fight after them. They pitch and tar them, to make water-barrels. More of us would settle in the country, only there’s no life there.”