University of Virginia Library

OF THE STREET-SELLERS OF DOG-COLLARS.

Of these street-traders there are now regularly
twelve; one man counted to me fourteen, but two
of these only sold dog-collars occasionally, when
they could not get employment in their trade as
journeymen brass-founders. Of the regular hands,
one, two, and sometimes three sell only dog-collars
(with the usual adjuncts of locks, and sometimes
chains, and key-rings), but even these, when their
stock-money avails, prefer uniting to the collars
some other trifling article.

Two of the most profitable pitches for the sale
of these articles are in the neighbourhood of the
Old Swan Pier, off Thames-street, and at a corner
of the Bank. Neither of these two traders con-
fines his stock to dog-collars, though they con-
stitute the most valuable portion of it. The one
sells, in addition to his collars, key-rings, keys
and chains, dog-whistles, stamps with letters en-
graved upon them, printer's type, in which any
name or initials may be set up, shaving-brushes,
trowser-straps, razors, and a few other light arti-
cles. The other sells little more than "dog"
articles, with the addition of brass padlocks and
small whips. But the minor commodities are
frequently varied, according to the season and
to the street-seller's opinion of what may "sell."

Some of these traders hang their wares against
the rails of any public or other building in a good
situation, where they can obtain leave. Others
have stalls, with "a back," from the corners of
which hang the strings of dog-collars, one linked
within another. The manner in which one street-
seller displays his wares is shown in the illustra-
tion before given. Of the whole number, half are
either itinerant on a round, or walk up and down
a thoroughfare and an adjacent street or two.
"Dog-collars," said one man, "is no good at
Saturday-night markets. People has said to me —
for I was flat enough to try once — `Dogs! pooh,
I've hardly grub enough for the kids.' For all
that, sir, some poor people has dogs, and is very
fond of them too; ay, and I've sold them collars,
but seldom. I think it's them as has no children
has dogs."

The collars most in demand are brass. One man
pointed out to me the merits of his stock, which
he retailed from 6d. each (for the very small
ones) to 3s. — for collars seemingly big enough for
Pyrenean sheep dogs. Some of the street-sold
collars have black and red rims and linings;
others are of leather, often scarlet, stitched orna-
mentally over a sort of jointed iron or wire-work.
A few are of strong compact steel chain-work;
"but them's more the fashion," said one seller,
"for sporting dogs, like pointers and greyhounds,
and is very seldom bought in the streets. It's
the pet dogs as is our best friends."

The dog-collar sellers have, as regards perhaps
one-half, been connected in their youth with some
mechanical occupation in metal manufacture. Four,
I am told, are or were pensioners to a small amount,
as soldiers or sailors.

Some further particulars of the business will be
found in the following statement given me by a
man in the trade. He was sickly-looking, seemed
dispirited at first, but to recover his spirits as he
conversed, and spoke with a provincial (I presume
a Warwickshire or Staffordshire) accent.

"I served my time, sir; my relations put me
— for my parents died when I was a boy — to a
harness furniture maker, in Wa'sall (Walsal), who
supplied Mr. Dixon, a saddler's ironmonger, in a
good way. I had fair makings, and was well
treated, and when I was out of my time I worked
for another master, and I then found I could make
my pad territs" (the round loops of the harness
pad, through which the reins are passed), "my
hooks, my buckles, my ornaments (some of 'em
crests), as well as any man. I worked only in
brass, never plated, but sometimes the body for
plating, and mostly territs and hooks. Thinking
I'd better myself, I came to London. I was
between five and six weeks before I got a stroke
of work, and my money had gone. I found that
London harness makers and coachmakers' names
was put on Walsal-made goods, and `London made'
and `town made' was put too. They might be as
good, but they wasn't town made no more nor I am.
I can't tell what I suffered, and felt, and thought,
as at last I walked the streets. I was afraid to
call at any brass-worker's — for I can do many sorts
of brass work — I was so shabby. I called once at

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Mr. A — 's, near Smithfield, and he, or his fore-
man perhaps it was, says to me, `Give that tug-
buckle a file.' I'd had nothing to eat but an
apple I found in the street that day, and my hand
trembled, and so he told me that drunkards,
with trembling hands, wouldn't do there. I was
never a drinking man; and at that time hadn't
tasted so much as beer for ten days. My
landlady — I paid her 1s. a week for half a
bed with a porter — trusted me my rent, 'cause
I paid her when I had it; but I walked about,
narvussed and trembling, and frightened at every
sudden sound. No, sir, I've stood looking over
a bridge, but, though I may have thought of
suicide, I never once had really a notion of it. I
don't know how to tell it, but I felt stupified
like, as much as miserable. I felt I could do no-
thing. Perhaps I shouldn't have had power of
mind to drown myself if I'd made up my resolu-
tion; besides, it's a dreadful wickedness. I
always liked reading, and, before I was fairly
beaten out, used to read at home, at shop-win-
dows, and at book-stalls, as long as I dared, but
latterly, when I was starving, I couldn't fix my
mind to read anyhow. One night I met a Wa's'll
friend, and he took me to his inn, and gave me a
good beef-steak supper and some beer, and he got
me a nice clean bed in the house. In the morn-
ing he gave me what did me most good of all, a
good new shirt, and 5s. I got work two days
after, and kept it near five years, with four mas-
ters, and married and saved 12l. We had no
family to live, and my poor wife died in the
cholera in 1849, and I buried her decently, thank
God, for she was a good soul. When I thought
the cholera was gone, I had it myself, and was ill
long, and lost my work, and had the same suffer-
ings as before, and was without soles to my shoes
or a shirt to my back, 'till a gentleman I'd worked
for lent me 1l., and then I went into this trade,
and pulled up a little. In six weeks I paid 15s. of my debt, and had my own time for the remain-
ing 5s. Now I get an odd job with my master
sometimes, and at others sell my collars, and
chains, and key-rings, and locks, and such like.
I'm ashamed of the dog-collar locks; I can buy
them at 2d. a dozen, or 1s. 6d. a gross; they're
sad rubbish. In two or three weeks sometimes,
the wire hasp is worn through, just by the rattling
of the collar, and the lock falls off. I make now,
one way and another, about 10s. a week. My
lodging's 2s. a week for a bed-room — it's a closet
tho,' for my furniture all went. God's good, and
I'll see better days yet. I have sure promise of
regular work, and then I can earn 30s. to 40s. I do best with my collars about the docks. I'm
sure I don't know why."

I am told that each of the street-sellers of dog-
collars sell on the average a dozen a week, at a
medium receipt of 12s. ("sometimes 20s., and
sometimes 6s."), though some will sell three and
even four dozen collars in the week. Any regular
dog-collar seller will undertake to get a name en-
graved upon it at 1d. a letter. The goods are bought
at a swag-shop, or an establishment carried on in
the same way. The retailer's profit is 35 per cent.

Reckoning 12s. weekly taken by twelve men,
we find 374l. expended yearly in the streets in
dog-collars.