OTHER MODES OF GETTING A LIVING.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLIII, Issue 13262, 22 August 1906, Page 9

OTHER MODES OF GETTING A LIVING.

Therk are many ways of getting a living, Enumerated in full they would fill a goodsized volume, oven if we were only to in. elude the authorised and orthodox paths of commerce and industry But apart from the usual hackneyed lines of (business, ingenious individuals have been found "to shape for themselves unique and origins.! monopolies. "him;" CLEANERS and iiorsv: "FAKERS." The " bike-cleaner" is a. curious product of town life, His day begins at seven in | the morning and continues till after the I usual breakfast hour. For a weekly sum lie ! undertakes to attend daily and groom the i iron steed. A smart bicycle-cleaner can do a j considerable number in a morning, arriving i at each door as regularly as the step-girl, : another useful little institution . without j whom our streets and doorways would prc- ! sent an even more dingy appearance. A disreputable-looking person who was recently called to account for his work of life described himself as a dealer's faker. A skilled workman we may almost call him, who only requires a little capital to do a roaring trade in the horse-dealing line. Lacking either money ;or , industry, ha "fakes" for dealers — that is, performs .those shady and often illegal offices to prepare unsound horses for sale. He can kick a sand-crack; so that none but a skilled eye can detect its presence. He can counterfeit to the life the mark in a horse's mouth, and if he goes lame on one fool lie can slip a sharp stone under the shoe of the cither, and make the, lameness even. There are few things that, the faker does not know, and an old hand can get good money. , ~..,' Kill A.V ARTISTES. •• •,;,;.'/.; A large army of unpleasant-looking and strong-smelling old men belong to the ranks 1 of inferior artist's models, One has a tin* profile, which keeps him in a state of comfortable idleness. Another has fine bauds, the hands of an artist, the only clean thing about him, and it is obvious that they, have done no manner of work. • Venerable gray hair is the asset of another,; and a* shapely foot, or picturesque bowed "back are the recommendations of others. One of these frequents the regions where artists congregate, calling upon them, for a job. Failing this, he generally sells the artist a i penny " dipper" of his own make, which invariably lets in water on the first trial. ODD CALLINGS. . • \ A sharp lad can live well in London as a " shadower," who undertakes to watch the doings of some unconscious person, and re- ■ port to the amateur detective who employs I him. Lads band themselves together us shadowers, and soon get up a wide conneci tion among lawyers and others who require , information of an out-of-the-way nature.' " 1 The button-woman fills a long-left want lin workmen's lodgings. Her business is | to repair the ravages of the laundry-matt or j maid. Few landladies are so old-fashion-j ed as to sew on a stray but ton" for the j lodger, or cobble up a rent. For a fixed ! sum the button-woman-takes home the tatj tered fragments, and returns them in wearj able form. i The harmless, necessary cat is catered for Iby one of these queer "tradesmen. ft is j quite a pleasing sight to see the cat's-meat ; man passing with his barrow, and his cry of " meat.'' through the streets, while intelligent tabbies flock about his feet, hoping some kindly passer-by will treat them to a penn'orth. His stock-in-trade is- horseflesh, which has already been rendered for its fats, and a penny will keep the wolffrom tlio door, from a cat's point of view, for a long time. The herbalist is another queer customerwho plies a trade similar to that of th< witches of olden time. She, or he, deals it love-potions and charm-draughts, concocted of weird mixtures of toad arid' newt She sells dogs' fat, as a specific for rhcu matism ; and the silent scavengers of tin Thames mar be seen busily fishing fordea< dog and cat to boil down to obtain this delicacy. The flotsam and jetsam of the . river supplies many a strange bucketful of ■ spoil to these unrecognised industries. I a THIMBLE-RIGGER'S "bonnet." The country roads of England swarm i with odd characters, who tramp from town jto town pursuing their vocations. The obj servant Lavengro chronicled meetings with j some of these, whom the ordinary traveller j would have passed by unnoticed. The. thimble-rigger of Borrow's pages is still to be seen on racecourse;, and fair grounds. The thimble-rigger of Lavengro otters him ! employment as his "bonnet." " Bonnet! What is that?" asked the writer of one of these individuals. "Don't you know? However, no wonder, as you never heard of the p»a<andthimble game. Ve of the game are very much exposed; folks who have lost their money, as those who play with us mostly : do, sometimes use rough language, call us 1 heats, and knock our hats over our eyes. ' and kick the tops off our tables. This in. the third table I've had spoiled to-day by uncivil customers. So we like to have a : gentleman go about with us to take out' , part, and encourage us, as if he knew noi thing about us. When the customer say», J I'm cheated,' the bonnet must say, 'No, you a'int, it's all right,' or if he kicks mo you must say, ' I never saw the man in all my life, but I won't see him ill-treated." and then I would say, "Thank you, my' lord. Them that finds, wins," and the bonnet plays, and 1 lets the bonnet win,"' AGRICULTL'ItAI, HANDYMEN. * The occasional needs of quiet, country farmsteads call for the -services of travelling specialists. In most districts there is a man known as the pig-ringer, who will also ring bulls, brand sheep, "or cattle, net sparrows, and sometimes combine the calling of bee-taker. The irregular nature of bis trade also leaves him at leisure to do a little poaching, which ekes out his varyiiy income. The mole-catcher, with his velvety cap ! unci waistcoat of the tiny skins, is a yearly , visitor to mole-infested "pastures ; and Iho j ratcatcher, with his terriers and tenets, is j i useful member of society. There is a. I htory how one of these was sent for to rid a country rectory of these pests, and after tilling a bag demanded bis fee of the rever- - end gentleman. '" "Nonsense," said he, "you get the rats. That, is all the pay you ought to have. You sell all those at 4d each."

The rat-catcher grimly opened the bag'.' mouth, and the wriggling captives speedilv flooded th' study. "Keep your rats,?' said the man, "and now pay me my, fee..." He got it, with an additional; one Ifor* r*r capturing lh.e vermin. ' "'■ .;[% '-.j