A Dickensian Street Urchin Whines
"Blimey! It's 'ard work bein' picturesque, guv'nor!"


urchin
Bless you sir, but it's 'ard work, this bein' picturesque all on the streets of London like. I mean! You lark about 'til your feet dewelop chilblains, do a bit o' carolin', bit o' street-sweepin', sayin' 'How d'ye do, ma'am?' and 'Tip-top day to you sir!' and the like. It's enough to make you never want to give another 'Hooroar!'

Nor there ain't no money in it no more, neever. Time was when it warn't unusual wot any gent kippin' down the street'd skin out wif a couple o' shillings. But now it's all Lombard Street to a china orange that some posh toff in a velvet weskit will pass you by w'out so much as thrupence. 'Pon my word, a ha'penny won't buy so much these days as it did afore. A bloke used to have hopes wot he could make, coo, ha'penny an hour out bein' picturesque. Now 'e's lucky t' get ha-ha'penny, an' he buys his own tea wiv it.

Crikey, it's right hard work enough! Still, I'm blest if I'll quit. I ain't a-goin' a-bed wivout I make enough money fer Mum's brandy punch. Bless you Sir!


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