Ah, them must have been rayther rum times, them must!  How the peepel got about he don’t seem quite to remember; but he says, as how as amost all on ’em lived at their warious shops and warehouses, and so mostly walked.  There was, it seems, a few ramshackel old coaches, called Ackney Coaches—­coz, they was all maid at Ackney, I suppose—­all drorn by two ramshackel old Osses, and with werry shabby old drivers with wisps of stror round their shabby old hats.  Then some brite Genus went and inwented Cabs, and they soon cut out the Ackney Coaches, which all went back to Ackney, and was never seen no more.  And then, sum ewen briter Genus went and inwented Homnybusses, and they rayther estonished the Cabs, and what the next brite Genus will inwent in that line, I don’t know, and SAM don’t know, and I don’t suppose as nobody else don’t.  But the most wunderfullest thing of all must have bin the having of no Perlice!  For SAM, acshally declares, that before Perlice was inwented by Sir ROBERT PEEL—­therefore wulgarly called Bobbys and Peelers—­the only pertecters as London had at night was a lot of werry old men, all crissened CHARLEY, who used to sit in little boxes, such as the Solgers has at the QUEEN’s Pallaces, with a little lantern hanging up in front, and when the Church Clocks all struck the hour, they all used to git out of their boxes and wark up and down the streets a calling out, “Parst Three o’Clock!” or “Parst Five o’Clock!” as it mite happen to be, and then go back to their little boxes, and hang up their lanterns, and quietly go to sleep!  Ah, them must have been werry nice times for Messrs. DICK TUPPIN, JACK SHEPHARD, BILL SIKES, and Cumpny, unlimited.  But, SAM says, as they made up for it by hanging ewery body as stole amost anythink, such as a sheep, or a fi-pound note, or a gold watch, and that on Mondays, which was Hanging Days, he has offen and offen stood at the hend of the Hold Baley and seen sum five or six pore retches, with white nite caps on, all a hanging together! and he says it all so serously that we are forced to bleeve him.

Then there’s old slowcoach Jo, the tea-totaller.  We all likes to work with him, and for a werry good reeson.  But he’s rayther a comical feller is Jo.  He says, when peeple cums to know all the true fax of the case, they’ll willingly pay dubble price for tea-total Waiters.  And he reelly is such a poor simple fellow that I werrily bleeves as he bleeves hisself when he says it.  I carn’t think what he means by it; but BROWN says as it’s a perfeckly shameful attack on the charackter of all us Waiters as ain’t such fools as to be Tea-totallers, and that we really ort all of us to cut him.  But no—­I’m in favour of Free Trade in Waiters as in Wine, and I shoud think that, in this pertickler case, his hobstinacy brings its own punishment.  For what can be a creweller life for a poor Waiter to lead, than to be constantly surrounded by harf emty bottels of most bewtifool Wines, of all kinds,