The Washington bee., 1910-10-15
AN ENGLISH HOLIDAY
How East Side London Plays on
Boxing Day.
ROUGH SPORT is THE RULE.
All CoekneyIand Flocks to Historic
Hampstead Heath, Where HiIarity,
Fast and Furious, Rules From Early
Morning Till After Midnight.

Boxing day is a great institution in
England. The day after Christmas is
Boxing day, so called because in the
old days it marked the occasion of the
actual giving Of Christmas boxes. Now
it is a national holiday. Besides being
the last In the year, it has to suffice
LondOners, at all events, until Easter
Monday. It's great day in Cockney-
land, and the east end crowds to
Hampstead heath, the picturesque open
space in the northwest Of London.
All roads lead to the heath Soon
after daybreak the procession begins.
Fully loaded traps and donkey barrOws
are the principal items in the vehicular
traffic, but the majority are on foot,
singing and shouting for the holiday.
." Ere yer are, Sir Emery" shouts a
woman, pushing tin squirt filed with
water into your face. "'Ere yer are,
Sir Emery; ali the fun of the fair.
Two a penny. Ave a couple, will yer,
mIud?"
The London street merchants have
the habit Of giving prospective custom
ers a title, presumably on the theory
that a LOndoner likes to have you be-
lieve that he is some well known man.
Should you be persuaded into buying
"a couple" the chances are a moment
later you will be face to face with
'Arriet. She wears large hat trimmed
with large feathers of brilliant hue,
has a hair fringe down over her fore
head and a bright coIored velvet dress.
Probably several viii be in a line, each
with an arm around the others neck
and mouth organ in the other hand.
There is battle in their eyes, and be-
fore you are aware Of it a stream Of
water viii be running down your face
The best thing to do is to retreat, for
If you should give battle you are sure
to retire, defeated, with your collar
like a wet rag and a most uncomforta-
bic feeling Of dampneSs down your
back.
Once on the heath the cocoanut
pitches will first claim your notice.
"'Ere yer are, kernel; seven SHES a
tanner. Every one yer knocks dahn
yer ave. They're all milky. Loidies
and kids 'arf way"
Then this scene will meet your eye:
Outside a large tent stands a raised
platform. On it are half a dozen men
stripped to the waist with arms fold
ed across their chests. One of them,
evidently the proprietor, twists a large
rattle, which gives forth a most deaf
ening noise. At last it stops, and he
begins:
"Loidies and gents. wants ter hin
terduce to yer notice some of the best
boxer" in the world. I'm at the end is
Felix Scott Of Liverpool Ell fight
any man in the crahd, and if he don't
put i'm aht in three rahnds ell give
i'm a quid. Nah, then, who'll ave 'em
on with the Champion|
Some one accepts the inviting offer,
and a rush is made to pay the admis-
sion fee and get into the tent
a company Of travelling actors is as
sembled on the platform outside the
next tent, all made up in their war
paint. The piece to be performed is
"Othello." The price of admission is
a penny. A reserved seat, an empty
box, will cost you another penny. And
the house soon fills.
Outside you will find every form Of
outdoor amusement in full swing
"Aunt Sallies," swings, roundabouts,
skipping and donkeys. The latter are
greatly patronized. Young men and
maidens, old men and women, all have
ga pannorth Of donkey ride" A fat
woman clings to one poor beasts neck
shouting:
"Oo'er, I'm sure I'm falling. Don't
make i'm go so fast. Ho, look at me
'at. Lemme get off. I'm sure yer
lifting i'm
When the dust has cleared away she
is seen lying in the road painting:
81 know'd yer done it on purposew
At last the journey home is begun,
everybody happy and tired, yet not too
tired to link arms, the men wearing
the girls feathered hats and pearl but
toned coats and the girls wearing caps
and hats and wOndrous masculine
jackets. All are singing different
songs, but every now and then they
break forth in unison with popular
songs of the moment. In the saloons
they drink beer out of one pewter and
swear undying love and friendship till
the voice of the proprietor, it now be
ing 1870 in the morning and closing
time, is heard calling, "Time, gents,
DIaase " and q final start is made
This may answer the question why
the average COckney worker always
wants a second day off to get over
Boxing day.-New York Times.