Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1899-04-26
Familiar Sights and Sounds on the
City Streets.
HUCKSTBRS And HOKEY-POKEY MEN
There's the Coal Man and the Man
Who Sells Bananas.
THEY FOLLOW THE SEASONS

| ambulating colored purveyor of oysters,
| with his pair Of five-gallon tin buckets and
his deep-mouthed bay, "O-o-oh-I-stuhsi"
| Quiescent he will remain during the four
R-less months, but his equally leather
| lunged successors will be along with weird
| auricular demonstrations of their wares
There is in London a society for the sup
| preston of street noises. The street
| hawkers of London find peculiar and sat
isfying joy in massing in front of the
houses of persons who are known to be
| members of this society and in bowling
out their wares in a sort of hideous Wal
purgis night chorus until their brazen
throaas become sore. 1t is their gleefu lit
tie way of playing even with the Society
for the Suppression of Street Noises, and
they make these bowling seances stick, ap-
parently, for they are not interfered with
by the belted Boobies. There is no Society
for the Suppression of Street Noises in
Washington, but We have the noises all
ready-made and waiting.
The green stuff and berry hawkers who
I'LL the streets of the capital with lamen-
tatlonS (at least, their cries sound like la
mentations) don't have to wait until berries
ana green stuff ripen in this region. They
begin with the very blush of spring on the
dollhouse and nursery products and upon
the shipments from the more or less sunny
south. The strawberry bowler, for exam
pie, has been rending the air of quiet up
town streets with his mournful moan for
a full three weeks. He has. however only
been the courier Of the main bunch of
strawberry hoWlers. When strawberries
begin to ripen up in this immediate corner
of the world, the coatless man with the
tray OF very, very woody strawberry boxes
becomes a veritable legion; from far and
near and high and low. his yearningful
means reSound
Without Variation.
10 cd tf bo,,
ticular products fall into common method
of shrieking their wares. There is no vari-
alton in the dismal ear-racking invitation
of the strawberry man. He conforms to
the standard and the method of yelling his
berries that seem to have been established
a great many years ago in the District and
he never hauls in an improvisation never
attempts even fragment of a variation on
MS long, misunderstanding shout, that be-
gins like a protracted note on bassoon
and winds up like fiat xylophone rataplan-
ming - Straw-aw-aw-beri-berd -beri- beri-
beri-zzz. 1t is entertaining TO reflect upon
the sensation strawberry hawker would
throw into quiet neighborhood were he to
come along with plain, everyday, unsung
call, Strawberries, strawberries, straw
berries Windows would be thrown UP
all along his line of march, basement doors
would open and servants heads would bob
out to take in the meaning Of the novel
sound, small boys would follow the VEN
tray full of boxes in d hundred strides, and
be compelled to have recourse to his wagon
reserve stock
1t is sad that the strawberry hawker does
not perceive this fact and appreciate its
business possibilities. Most of them have
voices like bo'sns mates. and they are,
therefore, quite capable of switching their
cries. If a man-owar bo snS mate sung
out all of his ships calls the one key,
with never a variation from one years end
to the other, he would drive his shipmates
mad and he would probably be busted to
the rate of an ordinary seaman, besides,
an incompetent.
Moan of the Coal Man.
The coal hawker-purveyor of the fuel by
peck or bushel from the tail-end Of a di- |
lapidated wagon-who takes his dreary |
course through the poorer quarters of the
city, winter and summer. also clings with |
pathetic persistency to his one, tme-worn
method of bowling his ware. 1t is a long |
drawn-out wall of misery, a moan that |
might come from the nethermost depths of
pandemonium. Long years of usage have
not accustomed the residents of Washing |
ton to the sound of this moan of the black |
coal hawker. There is certain pathetic |
quality in the voice of the black man, even |
in his mirth; but in the street call of the |
black coal hawker there is poignant grief, |
sorrow ineKpressible, woe that reaches be- |
yond the grave, cascades of tears. 1t be- |
gins with low note, gradually ascends on |
a long gamut, reaches high minor that |
sounds like the wind sobbng through pine |
trees and then inappreciably falls to the |
original note; and it makes its hearers sad |
to the point of thinking of equinox driven |
autumn leaves scurrying along the bitches, |
the errors of their past lives, the little |
deeds of kindness left undone, and thus on. |
There surely is misery a-plenty in the |
black coal hawkers cry. 1t has been known |
to make children of great sensibility to
sounds weep bitterly, and older folks, lis
tening to the plaintive moan, "Co-oh-oh-
OH-oh-al.' have been known to involunta-
r1ly mutter to themselves, oh, death in |
life, the coal that is no more!' There was |
once famous minister who is said to have |
been able to move his congregation to tears |
by mis- lntonation of the word "Mesapota-
mia. Could he ever have sat at the feet
of Washington coal hawker, to get points |
on the misery of intonation?
HOkey-POkey Ice Cream.
The justifiable and fully warranted skepti-
cism of this population over the belated