LONDON'S BEGGARS

Evening Post, Volume CV, Issue 23, 27 January 1923, Page 20

LONDON'S BEGGARS

A PROSPEROUS ARMY

PUT-AND-TAEE TOP PROFITS.

Between the Corner House and ths Coal Hole^—which, as every Digger knows, is in ths Strand—the heart of the visitor is always melted by a glance from those pathetic-looking specimens of humanity who sell knick-knacks or display their art from the cold and often wet pavements. A black mask covars the face of a tall, grey-haired man standing patiently in tho gutter. His stylishly-cut frock coa,t is threadbare. Hio white, well-mani-cured hand trembles as it extends a paltry box of matches towards you. On iiis breast is a string cf medaJs- of the Great Win-. "Of course," says the visitor to himself, 'Tie .jGsdak are bin sons's—killed, no doubt k th» war!" The story is plain, declarer th« London correspondent of the Sydnsy "Sun.'' Tho appeal is irresistible. It, is easier to give a shilling than a penny—iwui tfl! ths old man to keep his matches. But our down-and-out "stockbroker" friend oi t!is blank mask is only one of a thousand said nior* up-to-dsfcs beggars well kn6wn to the police, whoee incomes are anything between £300 and £700 a year, according to ths brightness of their ideas. as.d too novelty of their methods. The starving ex-ofifcer C.5.0., M.C. (two bars), five wound stripes, and as many children, who crowded round the bai'rel-orga:i, was ths moat profitable street business until a few weeks ago, when the police took a hand. The Magistrate was as surprised as the sympathetic public when he. was informed that the "officsr" Kved in a comfortable West End flat, and thai the hiro of the children and their mother was rather leas than that of the barrel-organs— which, owing Jto the popularity of the business just then, were at a premium. A', handsome ex-major ia another Court remarked dryly that a barrel-or-gan was. essential to the business of street begging, as it was the most convenient way oi carrying home the enormous weight-of coppers thrown at him.. A ruse whicli gained considerable popnlarity vfas for a, man wearing the. darkest of blue spectacles and a discharged soldier's badge to atari playing a tin whißtle ia the centi-a of c crowded thoroughfare, like, Oxford steeet. After ■a policemaa Dsad pulled feiai ttos. heneatk o^ omnibus and l«d hisn gecsMy to the pavemensfc, <b.o crowd usually rase to ths occasion. „ But, as a man grinding a torsi-organ in the West End dolefully remarked to me the other day: "The, bottom's dropped right out of orgran-grinding. A policeman confirmed this view the nezt day when he read in Court the following items .from the diary of an organist whose after-dinner music had been somewhat jerky:— , ' Receipt*, 8. d. Monday U 2 Tuesday 11 * Wednesday .'........ 10 6 Thursday 9 6 Friday „...., 12 6 ' Saturday 11 5 '£3 9 5 Even Oonan Doyle's character, "The Man With, the Twisted Lip," did better than that! ■ And ,i beggar in the sama street, who filled in his spare time running messages, recently benefited to.the extent of £50 from a rich, client. The pavement artist is piobably the ! most picturesque of London's "copper" highwaymen. The old practice of sketching indifferently shaped figures and highly coloured views of ships and sunsets on the tare flags has been replaced by the modern methods of Chelsea. Long-haired young men now sit at'stated intervals along the street with boards, on which lightning'sketches are made. One ingenious youth spends his evenings collecting the contents bills of newspapers, which are plain white on the reverse side. The artist mounts these on an easel, and for a few coppers you can have your face drawn at any angle, honestly or cartooned. In a very few minutes, amid the chers of the crowd, you are presented 1 with the copy. A well;known 'artist recently offered one of these black-and-white specialists a lucrative position in his* commercial studios, but, thank you, business was much too brisk!. ■ .

It is sajd that the hall porter at the Carltop Hotel owns his motor-car, but I know it of truth that one street artist goes yachting. As for the street vendors of toys, what tljey buy for a penny sells readily for sixpence—to wit that wicked little- brass top "put-and-taka" which turned to pure gold (by weight) in the hands of those who touched it first. , A clear profit of seven shillings and ■sixpence an hour was considered poor going in Ejegent street at the height of the craze, and yon could buy tops aJI night in Piccadilly ch-cuo. The street-singer is at the lowest end of the beggars' so-cial scale. It: would appear to be the more horrible the noise the. better the return. It cost Beechain his fortune before he realised that the British, public will not pay to bear good music—but any street singer knows that they will b-jy qtitet and comfort at any iprice.