Middlebury register. (Middlebury, Vt.) 1886-1937, 1893-11-24
FREE SHOWS IN LONDON.
The Thoroughfares Furnish Entertainment
From Early Morn Until Midnight.


The Thoroughfares Furnish Entertainment
From Early Morn Until Midnight.
An idle man can find entertainment
from early morn until midnight, though
not later than that, at no greater cost
than the mere exercise of living and
standing on one side to watch. He does
not necessarily have to hunt for the in
teresting things. They will come to
him en- route. There is nothing so pic
turesque in any other city of the world,
perhaps, or which gives you such start
of curious pleasure, as the bluecoat boy
swinging along the crowded street, as
unconscious of his yellow legs and flap
ping skirts and of the rain beating on
his bare head as is the letter carrier at
home of his mail bag.
Or the lord mayors carriage blocks
your way when you go into the city to
draw ON your letter of credit; or a cou-
re of young barristers in waving gowns
and with wigs askew dash in front of
your hansom or you are stopped by
regiment of soldiers, or a group of ne
gro minstrels dancing in the street with
as little concern as though they were
separated from you by a row of foot
lights; or you meet the Dispatch
and the other coaches coming along
Piccadilly and going down the steep
hill from that street to st. James
palace ON trot and at the risk
of every ones neck, apparently; or the
Life Guards go by with shining helmets
and with the lonely rearguard 200 yards
behind the rest to prevent an unexpected
attack from that quarter, from whom |
never could guess; or you come sudden
ly upon the proud and naughty Picca-
dilly goat in its rambles, or line of
sandwich men dressed like sailors or
cooks; or you note the contrast between
the victoria, with the men on the box in
pink silk stockings and powdered hair,
and the little costers cart piled high
with cabbages-as homogeneous a sight
to any other city as would be yoke of
oxen on Fifth avenue.
But what make the streets of London
most interesting are not the badges Of Of
fee and official uniforms, but the unof-
fetal garb and insignia which the masses
have adopted for themselves. The milk
mans white apron and wooden yoke,
the commissionnaire's medals, which tell
of campaigns in Egypt and India, or the
bootblacks red coat. In America we
hate uniforms. because they have been
twisted into meaning badges of servi-
tude. Our housemaids will not wear
caps, nor will our coachmen shave their
mustaches. This tends to make every
class of citizen look more or less alike.
But in London one can always tell bus
driver from the driver of four wheeler,
whether he is on his box or not.
The Englishman recognizes that if he
is in certain social grade he is likely to
remain there, and so instead of trying to
dress like some one else in class to
which he will never reach he makes up"
for the part in life he is meant to play,
and the bus driver buys a high white
hat, and the barmaid is content to wear
a turned down collar and turned back
cuffs, and the private coachman would
as soon think of wearing a false nose as
a mustache. He accepts his position and
is proud of it, and the butchers boy sits
up in his cart just as smartly, and
squares his elbows, and straightens his
legs, and balances his whip with as
much pride as any driver of a mailcart
in the park. All this helps to give every
man you meet an individuality.
The hanson cab driver is not ashamed
of being a hanson cab driver, nor is he
thinking of the day when he will be "a boss
contractor and tear up the streets over
which he now crawls looking for fare,
self and his horse, and soaps his rubber
mat and sitsup straight and businesslike,
and if you put him into livery you would
not have to teach him how to look well
in it.-Richard Harding Davis in Har-
per's Bazaar.