OUT OF FASHION

Evening Post, Volume CX, Issue 78, 29 September 1930, Page 10

OUT OF FASHION

PASSING "PEARLIES"

THE NEW BANK HOLIDAY

A VIVID PICTUEE

(Written for "The Post" by Valeric C. Corliss.) I'Ring out the old. ring in tho now, *Klng happy bells, across the. . . .". ■ I cannot, with truth, complete this quotation, as tho happy bells in question are ringing over a hot Hampstead Heath; and upon Bank Holiday afternoon and miles of modern costermdngers the summer sun bakes down. Ring, happy bells, across the mud, might be nearer the mark, as the showery weather has been responsible for churning up tho native earth of Hampstead Heath to an alarming depth, and the bells of booths, round-abouts, and swings peal joyously from-all quarters of tho Fair. Here tts the modern Cockney. Where once, on. Bank Holiday, Hampstead Heath had shone witli the resplendency of a billion pearl buttons there now promenades a crowd of tweed-suited, artificial-silked men and women, with buttons well concealed and reduced to the strictly necessary, as becomes the manner of our times: Here and there the monotony of the pull-on hat is enlivened by a playful attempt at a coloured paper imitation of the ostrich feathers of Bank Holidays that are now gone for ever. , Blue, green, orange, mauve—their young wearers bear them with the waggish, tolerant air of a brown-up impersonating the foibles of infancy. IT PEEPS THROUGH. But do what they will,-these engaging Londoners cannot hide their Bank Holiday Cockneyism under the pearlless cloak of modern attire. There is something about a true Cockney face, walk, voice, and typo that penetrates all obstacles of disguise such as Oxford bags and* plus fours. I peopled that old Heath with pearl buttons, ostrich f ea-, thers, and concertinas in the twinkling of an eye. Young Cockneys with the sharp, bright faces; middle-aged, female Cockneys with bulging figures; manly Cockneys with piratical ■sears and swarthy growths half-heartedly kept at bay-—where, X> where, are your pearly buttons now? But the fun of the world was at the Fair air the same. With the aid of goloshes we waded through the muddy paths between the "Buck o' Peanut Vendors" ("Give you Pep"), the novelty silk worms which crawl greenly up and down your person, the barking toy dogs, balloons, highly-coloured scarfs, ice creams, oysters, cockles, mussels, and vinegar. Here were large mothers engaged in the complex task of hauling twins in •" prams'' and at the same time devouring oranges, peppermint sticks, rolls, belching slabs of bright pink- ham, bananas. With the Cockney throngs we passed around the "Bucket La," "Penny a Ball," "Australian Koll Downs, eight balls for threepence" (Australia's currency is low), "W. Giles Up to Date Dart Saloon," " Dippy Dip 1' (Win every Time), "Caravans, Fortune Tellers," "Deep Sea Monsters, Alive" (First Time Here). THE GUARDIANS. . An awful- brigand with a mouth twisting right up to his left ear croaks encouragement to ball-throwers. Young male costers with the proverbial tweed cap and'scarf, deal vocally arid "capably with the public -surging, round their booths. ! 4 r -.,;';.-:.'::-v:;V '■" ' "Cash prizesl 'ere. 'Oo wants any money? Fourtee% pence, for a borb!" "Aw! Just oil the lahrn! Jolly 'ardlahrns. "....■.:/■';: ■ "Bew-ti-ful Lilly! -Th'.'eaviest girl in. th' ■; world! "■'■'• Twenty-eight stone. Cheeks lahk alibarster." -..- • '*Come and .troiy 'Knock Ms Tooth Aht'l If yer don't troiy yer carn't win, and if at foirst yer don't succeed, troiy, troiy, troiy agen." Sound philosophy on. a good; financial basis, but we thought perhaps not to-day. Two young girls camefdanciug by singing the latest ditty■from .Cochran's revue. A basket banged against my leg, and a perspiring "fat white woman" said: "Aw,. sorry Miss! I carn't seem to get this, 'ere kawskit clear along. Yer can see I've 'ad a good day with winnin." I could indeed. Her spoils—from "Houp La,? 5 "Ball Biffing," "Penny Shooting," "Dippy Dips," "Australian 801 l Downs," f Bucket La," and "Dart Parlours " filled the bulging basket with vases of a lurid blue, teapots, plates, chocolate boxes, two coconuts, a canary in a cage, and an alarm clock. "Nar then, nar. then, where dyer think, yer goin'? I'd try fer the King's Proize next year if I was you." She had passed on, to fresh legs and features new. '■'-'.■. . . ' KALEIDOSCOPE. What- a.■ gorgeous medley! Bells, thumps, shrieks, whistles,, bangs, biffs; We waded through a mirthful kaleidoscope of costermonger colour, noise, movement, and smell. Smell the oranges as they blend with the."cqekells" (as spelt), and the mussel and the,oyster and tho vinegar. Smell the banana as it opens to the sun. Smell the drinks of the strawberry, the raspberry, the lime, and the cochineal: smoke of tin stoves and tho tannin of strong, strong tea. Smell the cheese and the ham, the salmon and the cucumber, and the apple fritters cooking in their boiling fat. A crowd surrounded the tent of "Minerva the Girl who is Differ-? ent." "Scientists," we read, "staggered." "Deville disembodying a girl in. full"view. No showman's catch. The world's greatest surgical problem." "Nar this, ladies and gentlemen, is the only young lady in the universe wot is allowed to go through this remarkable performance. She allows 'erself, ladies and gentlemen, to.be divided inter twelve pawrts—twelve pawrts, mmd yer. Yer say as 'ow this is himpossible? But didn't yer. say that wireless was himpossible also, and the talkies? And 'ere they are and no gainaayin' "— We broke through to the Ninepin department, where, according to a notice, "all Scotchmen spend their holidays." A husky voice urged us in refined cockney to "Throw three balls for two pence, smash a cup and saucer, and take wot yew lake." "Take wot yew lake." We watched a-Scotsman get hit in the eye by a rebounding ball—-which, having missed every available uinepin, thought; it might as well do something—and,' a little discouraged, turned away. The penetrating music of. a merry-go-round drew us on to where a gigantic switchback whizzed its eostermongcr-riders-on-golden-horses round and round in a whirling, racy rapture. The latest jazz tunes infected all with gaiety. Old fat women with, lace-up boots, dingy black coats, and hats well on the backs of their heads, danced together with the sheer joy of living. THE GKEAT HUNGER. v One coster-lady who was jazzing with her husband suddenly hit him over the head. "Gam, yer great oof," she cried—and he seemed to like it. Everywhere people were eating. I have never seen so wholesale a* consumption of strong food. Picnic parties on the grass under the trees; loungers against laden counters; jovial families at long tables; sausages and saveloys hanging in festoons from • caravan stalls; boys eating coconuts; gigantic blue enamel teapots blocking progress everywhere; moving jaws—"they flash

upon that inward eye which is tho "bliss of solitude." Ah! Tho sound of a concertina! A respectful crowd stood gazing at what wo were sure must be the famous Pearly King. A real Pearly at last. Ho was covered with buttons from head to foot—cap, coat, trousers, everything. A girl, also festooned with buttons, stood at his side. His daughter. In her hat were real ostrich feathers, a deep-dyed blue, j Two cockney youths played eoncer- ] tinas, one tho tuno and the other a well- j meaning accompaniment. We addressed the Pearly King: "Wo like your buttons most awfully. Why don't you all wear the pearly buttons these days?" '' Well, yer sec, Miss, it's like this. Yer see, it's gorn out o' fashion." He was evidently a real personage way down East End. "I was the one that when Charlio Chaplin last como 'ere, took >im to the I-talian Gardings." There was surely no more convincing proof of greatness than this. ■ A PROTEST. . A jovial old coster jogged my elbow. "Will yer sign this please, Miss?" "1 never sign things." "Yes, but you don't need ter sign yer own name, yer sec. Any name '11 do." "But what for?" "Well, it's like this. They want to habolish our Bank,'Oliday Fair 'ere, and this is a protest—that's wot it is." "But I come from New Zealand and don't know about these things." "I don't mahnd. Yer could l^e a German and I wouldn't mahnd, if yer'l) sign." I was a little, dubious over the association of ideas. . New Zealanders and Germans, they meant much about the same to him.; "Your not signin' yer death warrant yer know," he said waggishly. He was a dear old man. : At-the foot of the hill swarms of junior costermongevs were riding on swings and switchbacks, and shooting down spiral glides to the accompaniment of several brands of mechanical music. "The Soldiers of the King" intermingled discordantly with the opposition of jazz fortissimo from U.S.A. The sun shone hotter , and hotter. "Gam. 'Op it! 'Op it!" It was a good idea. "Aw, don't that jist look hko the sea!" A cockney with an eye for beauty had "said it." Below «md beyond the lovely trees of tho Heath stretched English plains shining in the sun and melting hazily into an ethereal sea'of blue against tho far horizon. Past Jack Straw's Castle, Ye Old Bull and Bush, and-the Hare and Hounds. . . We left Hampstead Heath to the good-humoured with a Many Happy Returns of the.Fan-,"