The dog-sellers are of a sporting, trading, idling class. Their sport is now the rat-hunt, or the ferret-match, or the dog-fight; as it was with the predecessors of their stamp, the cock-fight; the bull, bear, and badger bait; the shrove-tide cock-shy, or the duck hunt. Their trading spirit is akin to that of the higher-class sporting fraternity, the trading members of the turf. They love to sell and to bargain, always with a quiet exultation at the time—a matter of loud tavern boast afterwards, perhaps, as respects the street-folk—how they “do” a customer, or “do” one another. “It’s not cheating,” was the remark and apology of a very famous jockey of the old times, touching such measures; “it’s not cheating, it’s outwitting.” Perhaps this expresses the code of honesty of such traders; not to cheat, but to outwit or over-reach. Mixed with such traders, however, are found a few quiet, plodding, fair-dealing men, whom it is difficult to classify, otherwise than that they are “in the line, just because they likes it.” The idling of these street-sellers is a part of their business. To walk by the hour up and down a street, and with no manual labour except to clean their dogs’ kennels, and to carry them in their arms, is but an idleness, although, as some of these men will tell you, “they work hard at it.”

Under the respective heads of dog and bird-sellers, I shall give more detailed characteristics of the class, as well as of the varying qualities and inducements of the buyers.

The street-sellers of foreign birds, such as parrots, parroquets, and cockatoos; of gold and silver fish; of goats, tortoises, rabbits, leverets, hedgehogs; and the collectors of snails, worms, frogs, and toads, are also a mixed body. Foreigners, Jews, seamen, countrymen, costermongers, and boys form a part, and of them I shall give a description under the several heads. The prominently-characterized street-sellers are the traders in dogs and birds.

Of the former Street-Sellers, “Finders,” Stealers, and Restorers of Dogs.

Before I describe the present condition of the street-trade in dogs, which is principally in spaniels, or in the description well known as lap-dogs, I will give an account of the former condition of the trade, if trade it can properly be called, for the “finders” and “stealers” of dogs were the more especial subjects of a parliamentary inquiry, from which I derive the official information on the matter. The Report of the Committee was ordered by the House of Commons to be printed, July 26, 1844.

In their Report the Committee observe, concerning the value of pet dogs:—“From the evidence of various witnesses it appears, that in one case a spaniel was sold for 105l., and in another, under a sheriff’s execution, for 95l. at the hammer; and 50l. or 60l. are not unfrequently given for fancy dogs of first-rate breed and beauty.” The hundred guineas’ dog above alluded to was a “black and tan King Charles’s spaniel;”—indeed, Mr. Dowling, the editor of Bell’s Life in London, said, in his evidence before the Committee, “I have known as much as 150l. given for a dog.” He said afterwards: “There are certain marks about the eyes and otherwise, which are considered ‘properties;’ and it depends entirely upon the property which a dog possesses as to its value.”

I need not dwell on the general fondness of the English for dogs, otherwise than as regards what were the grand objects of the dog-finders’ search—ladies’ small spaniels and lap-dogs, or, as they are sometimes called, “carriage-dogs,” by their being the companions of ladies inside their carriages. These animals first became fashionable by the fondness of Charles II. for them. That monarch allowed them undisturbed possession of the gilded chairs in his palace of Whitehall, and seldom took his accustomed walk in the park without a tribe of them at his heels. So “fashionable” were spaniels at that time and afterwards, that in 1712 Pope made the chief of all his sylphs and sylphides the guard of a lady’s lapdog. The fashion has long continued, and still continues; and it was on this fashionable fondness for a toy, and on the regard of many others for the noble and affectionate qualities of the dog, that a traffic was established in London, which became so extensive and so lucrative, that the legislature interfered, in 1844, for the purpose of checking it.

I cannot better show the extent and lucrativeness of this trade, than by citing a list which one of the witnesses before Parliament, Mr. W. Bishop, a gunmaker, delivered in to the Committee, of “cases in which money had recently been extorted from the owners of dogs by dog-stealers and their confederates.” There is no explanation of the space of time included under the vague term “recently;” but the return shows that 151 ladies and gentlemen had been the victims of the dog-stealers or dog-finders, for in this business the words were, and still are to a degree, synonymes, and of these 62 had been so victimized in 1843 and in the six months of 1844, from January to July. The total amount shown by Mr. Bishop to have been paid for the restoration of stolen dogs was 977l. 4s. 6d., or an average of 6l. 10s. per individual practised upon. This large sum, it is stated on the authority of the Committee, was only that which came within Mr. Bishop’s knowledge, and formed, perhaps, “but a tenth part in amount” of the whole extortion. Mr. Bishop was himself in the habit of doing business “in obtaining the restitution of dogs,” and had once known 18l.—the dog-stealers asked 25l.—given for the restitution of a spaniel. The full amount realized by this dog-stealing was, according to the above proportion, 9772l. 5s. In 1843, 227l. 3s. 6d. was so realized, and 97l. 14s. 6d. in the six months of 1844, within Mr. Bishop’s personal knowledge; and if this be likewise a tenth of the whole of the commerce in this line, a year’s business, it appears, averaged 2166l. to the stealers or finders of dogs. I select a few names from the list of those robbed of dogs, either from the amount paid, or because the names are well known. The first payment cited is from a public board, who owned a dog in their corporate capacity:

Thus these 36 ladies and gentlemen paid 438l. 5s. 6d. to rescue their dogs from professional dog-stealers, or an average, per individual, of upwards of 12l.

These dog appropriators, as they found that they could levy contributions not only on royalty, foreign ambassadors, peers, courtiers, and ladies of rank, but on public bodies, and on the dignitaries of the state, the law, the army, and the church, became bolder and more expert in their avocations—a boldness which was encouraged by the existing law. Prior to the parliamentary inquiry, dog-stealing was not an indictable offence. To show this, Mr. Commissioner Mayne quoted Blackstone to the Committee: “As to those animals which do not serve for food, and which therefore the law holds to have no intrinsic value, as dogs of all sorts, and other creatures kept for whim and pleasure—though a man may have a base property therein, and maintain a civil action for the loss of them, yet they are not of such estimation as that the crime of stealing them amounts to larceny.” The only mode of punishment for dog-stealing was by summary conviction, the penalty being fine or imprisonment; but Mr. Commissioner Mayne did not know of any instance of a dog-stealer being sent to prison in default of payment. Although the law recognised no property in a dog, the animal was taxed; and it was complained at the time that an unhappy lady might have to pay tax for the full term upon her dog, perhaps a year and a half after he had been stolen from her. One old offender, who stole the Duke of Beaufort’s dog, was transported, not for stealing the dog, but his collar.

The difficulty of proving the positive theft of a dog was extreme. In most cases, where the man was not seen actually to seize a dog which could be identified, he escaped when carried before a magistrate. “The dog-stealers,” said Inspector Shackell, “generally go two together; they have a piece of liver; they say it is merely bullock’s liver, which will entice or tame the wildest or savagest dog which there can be in any yard; they give it him, and take him from his chain. At other times,” continues Mr. Shackell, “they will go in the street with a little dog, rubbed over with some sort of stuff, and will entice valuable dogs away.... If there is a dog lost or stolen, it is generally known within five or six hours where that dog is, and they know almost exactly what they can get for it, so that it is a regular system of plunder.” Mr. G. White, “dealer in live stock, dogs, and other animals,” and at one time a “dealer in lions, and tigers, and all sorts of things,” said of the dog-stealers: “In turning the corners of streets there are two or three of them together; one will snatch up a dog and put into his apron, and the others will stop the lady and say, ‘What is the matter?’ and direct the party who has lost the dog in a contrary direction to that taken.”

In this business were engaged from 50 to 60 men, half of them actual stealers of the animals. The others were the receivers, and the go-betweens or “restorers.” The thief kept the dog perhaps for a day or two at some public-house, and he then took it to a dog-dealer with whom he was connected in the way of business. These dealers carried on a trade in “honest dogs,” as one of the witnesses styled them (meaning dogs honestly acquired), but some of them dealt principally with the dog-stealers. Their depots could not be entered by the police, being private premises, without a search-warrant—and direct evidence was necessary to obtain a search-warrant—and of course a stranger in quest of a stolen dog would not be admitted. Some of the dog-dealers would not purchase or receive dogs known to have been stolen, but others bought and speculated in them. If an advertisement appeared offering a reward for the dog, a negotiation was entered into. If no reward was offered, the owner of the dog, who was always either known or made out, was waited upon by a restorer, who undertook “to restore the dog if terms could be come to.” A dog belonging to Colonel Fox was once kept six weeks before the thieves would consent to the Colonel’s terms. One of the most successful restorers was a shoemaker, and mixed little with the actual stealers; the dog-dealers, however, acted as restorers frequently enough. If the person robbed paid a good round sum for the restoration of a dog, and paid it speedily, the animal was almost certain to be stolen a second time, and a higher sum was then demanded. Sometimes the thieves threatened that if they were any longer trifled with they would inflict torture on the dog, or cut its throat. One lady, Miss Brown of Bolton-street, was so worried by these threats, and by having twice to redeem her dog, “that she has left England,” said Mr. Bishop, “and I really do believe for the sake of keeping the dog.” It does not appear, as far as the evidence shows, that these threats of torture or death were ever carried into execution; some of the witnesses had merely heard of such things.

The shoemaker alluded to was named Taylor, and Inspector Shackell thus describes this person’s way of transacting business in the dog “restoring” line: “There is a man named Taylor, who is one of the greatest restorers in London of stolen dogs, through Mr. Bishop.” [Mr. Bishop was a gunmaker in Bond-street.] “It is a disgrace to London that any person should encourage a man like that to go to extort money from ladies and gentlemen, especially a respectable man. A gentleman applied to me to get a valuable dog that was stolen, with a chain on his neck, and the name on the collar; and I heard Mr. Bishop himself say that it cost 6l.; that it could not be got for less. Capt. Vansittart (the owner of the dog) came out; I asked him particularly, ‘Will you give me a description of the dog on a piece of paper,’ and that is his writing (producing a paper). I went and made inquiry; and the captain himself, who lives in Belgrave-square, said he had no objection to give 4l. for the recovery of the dog, but would not give the 6l. I went and took a good deal of trouble about it. I found out that Taylor went first to ascertain what the owner of the dog would give for it, and then went and offered 1l. for the dog, then 2l., and at last purchased it for 3l.; and went and told Capt. Vansittart that he had given 4l. for the dog; and the dog went back through the hands of Mr. Bishop.”

The “restorers” had, it appears, the lion’s share in the profits of this business. One witness had known of as much as ten guineas being given for the recovery of a favourite spaniel, or, as the witness styled it, for “working a dog back,” and only two of these guineas being received by “the party.” The wronged individual, thus delicately intimated as the “party,” was the thief. The same witness, Mr. Hobdell, knew 14l. given for the restoration of a little red Scotch terrier, which he, as a dog-dealer, valued at four shillings!

One of the coolest instances of the organization and boldness of the dog-stealers was in the case of Mr. Fitzroy Kelly’s “favourite Scotch terrier.” The “parties,” possessing it through theft, asked 12l. for it, and urged that it was a reasonable offer, considering the trouble they were obliged to take. “The dog-stealers were obliged to watch every night,” they contended, through Mr. Bishop, “and very diligently; Mr. Kelly kept them out very late from their homes, before they could get the dog; he used to go out to dinner or down to the Temple, and take the dog with him; they had a deal of trouble before they could get it.” So Mr. Kelly was expected not only to pay more than the value of his dog, but an extra amount on account of the care he had taken of his terrier, and for the trouble his vigilance had given to the thieves! The matter was settled at 6l. Mr. Kelly’s case was but one instance.

Among the most successful of the practitioners in this street-finding business were Messrs. “Ginger” and “Carrots,” but a parliamentary witness was inclined to believe that Ginger and Carrots were nicknames for the same individual, one Barrett; although he had been in custody several times, he was considered “a very superior dog-stealer.”

If the stolen dog were of little value, it was safest for the stealers to turn him loose; if he were of value, and unowned and unsought for, there was a ready market abroad. The stewards, stokers, or seamen of the Ostend, Antwerp, Rotterdam, Hamburgh, and all the French steamers, readily bought stolen fancy dogs; sometimes twenty to thirty were taken at a voyage. A steward, indeed, has given 12l. for a stolen spaniel as a private speculation. Dealers, too, came occasionally from Paris, and bought numbers of these animals, and at what the dog foragers considered fair prices. One of the witnesses (Mr. Baker, a game dealer in Leadenhall-market) said:—“I have seen perhaps twenty or thirty dogs tied up in a little room, and I should suppose every one of them was stolen; a reward not sufficiently high being offered for their restoration, the parties get more money by taking them on board the different steam-ships and selling them to persons on board, or to people coming to this country to buy dogs and take them abroad.”

The following statement, derived from Mr. Mayne’s evidence, shows the extent of the dog-stealing business, but only as far as came under the cognizance of the police. It shows the number of dogs “lost” or “stolen,” and of persons “charged” with the offence, and “convicted” or “discharged.” Nearly all the dogs returned as lost, I may observe, were stolen, but there was no evidence to show the positive theft:—

In what proportion the police-known thefts stood to the whole number, there was no evidence given; nor, I suppose, could it be given.

The dog-stealers were not considered to be connected with housebreakers, though they might frequent the same public-houses. Mr. Mayne pronounced these dog-stealers a genus, a peculiar class, “what they call dog-fanciers and dog-stealers; a sort of half-sporting, betting characters.”

The law on the subject of dog-stealing (8 and 9 Vict., c. 47) now is, that “If any person shall steal any dog, every such offender shall be deemed guilty of a misdemeanor, and, being convicted thereof before any two or more justices of the peace, shall, for the first offence, at the discretion of the said justices, either be committed to the common gaol or house of correction, there to be imprisoned only, or be imprisoned and kept to hard labour, for any term not exceeding six calendar months, or shall forfeit and pay over and above the value of the said dog such sum of money, not exceeding 20l., as to the said justices shall seem meet. And if any person so convicted shall afterwards be guilty of the same offence, every such offender shall be guilty of an indictable misdemeanor, and, being convicted thereof, shall be liable to suffer such punishment, by fine or imprisonment, with or without hard labour, or by both, as the court in its discretion shall award, provided such imprisonment do not exceed eighteen months.”

Of a Dog-“Finder”.—A “Lurker’s” Career.

Concerning a dog-finder, I received the following account from one who had received the education of a gentleman, but whom circumstances had driven to an association with the vagrant class, and who has written the dog-finder’s biography from personal knowledge—a biography which shows the variety that often characterizes the career of the “lurker,” or street-adventurer.

“If your readers,” writes my informant, “have passed the Rubicon of ‘forty years in the wilderness,’ memory must bring back the time when the feet of their childish pilgrimage have trodden a beautiful grass-plot—now converted into Belgrave-square; when Pimlico was a ‘village out of town,’ and the ‘five fields’ of Chelsea were fields indeed. To write the biography of a living character is always delicate, as to embrace all its particulars is difficult; but of the truthfulness of my account there is no question.

“Probably about the year of the great frost (1814), a French Protestant refugee, named La Roche, sought asylum in this country, not from persecution, but from difficulties of a commercial character. He built for himself, in Chelsea, a cottage of wood, nondescript in shape, but pleasant in locality, and with ample accommodations for himself and his son. Wife he had none. This little bazaar of mud and sticks was surrounded with a bench of rude construction, on which the Sunday visitors to Ranelagh used to sit and sip their curds and whey, while from the entrance—far removed in those days from competition—

Things went on smoothly for a dozen years, when the old Frenchman departed this life.

“His boy carried on the business for a few months, when frequent complaints of ‘Sunday gambling’ on the premises, and loud whispers of suspicion relative to the concealment of stolen goods, induced ‘Chelsea George’—the name the youth had acquired—to sell the good-will of the house, fixtures, and all, and at the eastern extremity of London to embark in business as a ‘mush or mushroom-faker.’ Independently of his appropriation of umbrellas, proper to the mush-faker’s calling, Chelsea George was by no means scrupulous concerning other little matters within his reach, and if the proprietors of the ‘swell cribs’ within his ‘beat’ had no ‘umbrellas to mend,’ or ‘old ’uns to sell,’ he would ease the pegs in the passage of the incumbrance of a greatcoat, and telegraph the same out of sight (by a colleague), while the servant went in to make the desired inquiries. At last he was ‘bowl’d out’ in the very act of ‘nailing a yack’ (stealing a watch). He ‘expiated,’ as it is called, this offence by three months’ exercise on the ‘cockchafer’ (tread-mill). Unaccustomed as yet to the novelty of the exercise, he fell through the wheel and broke one of his legs. He was, of course, permitted to finish his time in the infirmary of the prison, and on his liberation was presented with five pounds out of ‘the Sheriffs’ Fund.’

“Although, as I have before stated, he had never been out of England since his childhood, he had some little hereditary knowledge of the French language, and by the kind and voluntary recommendation of one of the police-magistrates of the metropolis, he was engaged by an Irish gentleman proceeding to the Continent as a sort of supernumerary servant, to ‘make himself generally useful.’ As the gentleman was unmarried, and mostly stayed at hotels, George was to have permanent wages and ‘find himself,’ a condition he invariably fulfilled, if anything was left in his way. Frequent intemperance, neglect of duty, and unaccountable departures of property from the portmanteau of his master, led to his dismissal, and Chelsea George was left, without friends or character, to those resources which have supported him for some thirty years.

“During his ‘umbrella’ enterprise he had lived in lodging-houses of the lowest kind, and of course mingled with the most depraved society, especially with the vast army of trading sturdy mendicants, male and female, young and old, who assume every guise of poverty, misfortune, and disease, which craft and ingenuity can devise or well-tutored hypocrisy can imitate. Thus initiated, Chelsea George could ‘go upon any lurk,’ could be in the last stage of consumption—actually in his dying hour—but now and then convalescent for years and years together. He could take fits and counterfeit blindness, be a respectable broken-down tradesman, or a soldier maimed in the service, and dismissed without a pension.

“Thus qualified, no vicissitudes could be either very new or very perplexing, and he commenced operations without delay, and pursued them long without desertion. The ‘first move’ in his mendicant career was taking them on the fly; which means meeting the gentry on their walks, and beseeching or at times menacing them till something is given; something in general was given to get rid of the annoyance, and, till the ‘game got stale,’ an hour’s work, morning and evening, produced a harvest of success, and ministered to an occasion of debauchery.

“His less popular, but more upright father, had once been a dog-fancier, and George, after many years vicissitude, at length took a ‘fancy’ to the same profession, but not on any principles recognised by commercial laws. With what success he has practised, the ladies and gentlemen about the West-end have known, to their loss and disappointment, for more than fifteen years past.

“Although the police have been and still are on the alert, George has, in every instance, hitherto escaped punishment, while numerous detections connected with escape have enabled the offender to hold these officials at defiance. The ‘modus operandi’ upon which George proceeds is to varnish his hands with a sort of gelatine, composed of the coarsest pieces of liver, fried, pulverised, and mixed up with tincture of myrrh.” [This is the composition of which Inspector Shackell spoke before the Select Committee, but he did not seem to know of what the lure was concocted. My correspondent continues]: “Chelsea George caresses every animal who seems ‘a likely spec,’ and when his fingers have been rubbed over the dogs’ noses they become easy and perhaps willing captives. A bag carried for the purpose, receives the victim, and away goes George, bag and all, to his printer’s in Seven Dials. Two bills and no less—two and no more, for such is George’s style of work—are issued to describe the animal that has thus been found, and which will be ‘restored to its owner on payment of expenses.’ One of these George puts in his pocket, the other he pastes up at a public-house whose landlord is ‘fly’ to its meaning, and poor ‘bow-wow’ is sold to a ‘dealer in dogs,’ not very far from Sharp’s alley. In course of time the dog is discovered; the possessor refers to the ‘establishment’ where he bought it; the ‘dealer makes himself square,’ by giving the address of ‘the chap he bought ’un of,’ and Chelsea George shows a copy of the advertisement, calls in the publican as a witness, and leaves the place ‘without the slightest imputation on his character.’ Of this man’s earnings I cannot speak with precision: it is probable that in a ‘good year’ his clear income is 200l.; in a bad year but 100l., but, as he is very adroit, I am inclined to believe that the ‘good’ years somewhat predominate, and that the average income may therefore exceed 150l. yearly.”

Of the Present Street-Sellers of Dogs.

It will have been noticed that in the accounts I have given of the former street-transactions in dogs, there is no mention of the sellers. The information I have adduced is a condensation of the evidence given before the Select Committee of the House of Commons, and the inquiry related only to the stealing, finding, and restoring of dogs, the selling being but an incidental part of the evidence. Then, however, as now, the street-sellers were not implicated in the thefts or restitution of dogs, “just except,” one man told me, “as there was a black sheep or two in every flock.” The black sheep, however, of this street-calling more frequently meddled with restoring, than with “finding.”

Another street dog-seller, an intelligent man,—who, however did not know so much as my first informant of the state of the trade in the olden time,—expressed a positive opinion, that no dog-stealer was now a street-hawker (“hawker” was the word I found these men use). His reasons for this opinion, in addition to his own judgment from personal knowledge, are cogent enough: “It isn’t possible, sir,” he said, “and this is the reason why. We are not a large body of men. We stick pretty closely, when we are out, to the same places. We are as well-known to the police, as any men whom they most know, by sight at any rate, from meeting them every day. Now, if a lady or gentleman has lost a dog, or it’s been stolen or strayed—and the most petted will sometimes stray unaccountably and follow some stranger or other—why where does she, and he, and all the family, and all the servants, first look for the lost animal? Why, where, but at the dogs we are hawking? No, sir, it can’t be done now, and it isn’t done in my knowledge, and it oughtn’t to be done. I’d rather make 5s. on an honest dog than 5l. on one that wasn’t, if there was no risk about it either.” Other information convinces me that this statement is correct.

Of these street-sellers or hawkers there are now about twenty-five. There may be, however, but twenty, if so many, on any given day in the streets, as there are always some detained at home by other avocations connected with their line of life. The places they chiefly frequent are the Quadrant and Regent-street generally, but the Quadrant far the most. Indeed before the removal of the colonnade, one-half at least of all the dog-sellers of London would resort there on a very wet day, as they had the advantage of shelter, and generally of finding a crowd assembled, either lounging to pass the time, or waiting “for a fair fit,” and so with leisure to look at dogs. The other places are the West-end squares, the banks of the Serpentine, Charing-cross, the Royal Exchange, and the Bank of England, and the Parks generally. They visit, too, any public place to which there may be a temporary attraction of the classes likely to be purchasers—a mere crowd of people, I was told, was no good to the dog-hawkers, it must be a crowd of people that had money—such as the assemblage of ladies and gentlemen who crowd the windows of Whitehall and Parliament-street, when the Queen opens or prorogues the houses. These spectators fill the street and the Horse-guards’ portion of the park as soon as the street mass has dispersed, and they often afford the means of a good day’s work to the dog people.

Two dogs, carefully cleaned and combed, or brushed, are carried in a man’s arms for street-vending. A fine chain is generally attached to a neat collar, so that the dog can be relieved from the cramped feel he will experience if kept off his feet too long. In carrying these little animals for sale—for it is the smaller dogs which are carried—the men certainly display them to the best advantage. Their longer silken ears, their prominent dark eyes and black noses, and the delicacy of their fore-paws, are made as prominent as possible, and present what the masses very well call “quite a pictur.” I have alluded to the display of the Spaniels, as they constitute considerably more than half of the street trade in dogs, the “King Charleses” and the “Blenheims” being disposed of in nearly equal quantities. They are sold for lap-dogs, pets, carriage companions or companions in a walk, and are often intelligent and affectionate. Their colours are black, black and tan, white and liver-colour, chestnut, black and white, and entirely white, with many shades of these hues, and inter-blendings of them, one with another, and with gray.

The small Terriers are, however, coming more into fashion, or, as the hawkers call it, into “vogue.” They are usually black, with tanned muzzles and feet, and with a keen look, their hair being short and smooth. Some, however, are preferred with long and somewhat wiry hair, and the colour is often strongly mixed with gray. A small Isle of Skye terrier—but few, I was informed know a “real Skye”—is sometimes carried in the streets, as well as the little rough dogs known as Scotch terriers. When a street-seller has a litter of terrier pups, he invariably selects the handsomest for the streets, for it happens—my informant did not know why, but he and others were positive that so it was—that the handsomest is the worst; “the worst,” it must be understood as regards the possession of choice sporting qualities, more especially of pluck. The terrier’s education, as regards his prowess in a rat-pit, is accordingly neglected; and if a gentleman ask, “Will he kill rats?” the answer is in the negative; but this is no disparagement to the sale, because the dog is sold, perhaps, for a lady’s pet, and is not wanted to kill rats, or to “fight any dog of his weight.”

The Pugs, for which, 40 to 50 years ago, and, in a diminished degree, 30 years back, there was, in the phrase of the day, “quite a rage,” provided only the pug was hideous, are now never offered in the streets, or so rarely, that a well-known dealer assured me he had only sold one in the streets for two years. A Leadenhall tradesman, fond of dogs, but in no way connected with the trade, told me that it came to be looked upon, that a pug was a fit companion for only snappish old maids, and “so the women wouldn’t have them any longer, least of all the old maids.”

French Poodles are also of rare street-sale. One man had a white poodle two or three years ago, so fat and so round, that a lady, who priced it, was told by a gentleman with her, that if the head and the short legs were removed, and the inside scooped out, the animal would make a capital muff; yet even that poodle was difficult of sale at 50s.

Occasionally also an Italian Greyhound, seeming cold and shivery on the warmest days, is borne in a hawker’s arms, or if following on foot, trembling and looking sad, as if mentally murmuring at the climate.

In such places as the banks of the Serpentine, or in the Regent’s-park, the hawker does not carry his dogs in his arms, so much as let them trot along with him in a body, and they are sure to attract attention; or he sits down, and they play or sleep about him. One dealer told me that children often took such a fancy for a pretty spaniel, that it was difficult for either mother, governess, or nurse, to drag them away until the man was requested to call in the evening, bringing with him the dog, which was very often bought, or the hawker recompensed for his loss of time. But sometimes the dog-dealers, I heard from several, meet with great shabbiness among rich people, who recklessly give them no small trouble, and sometimes put them to expense without the slightest return, or even an acknowledgment or a word of apology. “There’s one advantage in my trade,” said a dealer in live animals, “we always has to do with principals. There’s never a lady would let her most favouritest maid choose her dog for her. So no parkisits.”

The species which I have enumerated are all that are now sold in the streets, with the exception of an odd “plum-pudding,” or coach-dog (the white dog with dark spots which runs after carriages), or an odd bull-dog, or bull-terrier, or indeed with the exception of “odd dogs” of every kind. The hawkers are, however, connected with the trade in sporting dogs, and often through the medium of their street traffic, as I shall show under the next head of my subject.

There is one peculiarity in the hawking of fancy dogs, which distinguishes it from all other branches of street-commerce. The purchasers are all of the wealthier class. This has had its influence on the manners of the dog-sellers. They will be found, in the majority of cases, quiet and deferential men, but without servility, and with little of the quality of speech; and I speak only of speech which among English people is known as “gammon,” and among Irish people as “blarney.” This manner is common to many; to the established trainer of race-horses for instance, who is in constant communication with persons in a very superior position in life to his own, and to whom he is exceedingly deferential. But the trainer feels that in all points connected with his not very easy business, as well, perhaps, as in general turf knowingness, his royal highness (as was the case once), or his grace, or my lord, or Sir John, was inferior to himself; and so with all his deference there mingles a strain of quiet contempt, or rather, perhaps, of conscious superiority, which is one ingredient in the formation of the manners I have hastily sketched.

The customers of the street-hawkers of dogs are ladies and gentlemen, who buy what may have attracted their admiration. The kept mistresses of the wealthier classes are often excellent customers. “Many of ’em, I know,” was said to me, “dotes on a nice spaniel. Yes, and I’ve known gentlemen buy dogs for their misses; I couldn’t be mistaken when I might be sent on with them, which was part of the bargain. If it was a two-guinea dog or so, I was told never to give a hint of the price to the servant, or to anybody. I know why. It’s easy for a gentleman that wants to please a lady, and not to lay out any great matter of tin, to say that what had really cost him two guineas, cost him twenty.” If one of the working classes, or a small tradesman, buy a dog in the streets, it is generally because he is “of a fancy turn,” and breeds a few dogs, and traffics in them in hopes of profit.

The homes of the dog-hawkers, as far as I had means of ascertaining—and all I saw were of the same character—are comfortable and very cleanly. The small spaniels, terriers, &c.,—I do not now allude to sporting dogs—are generally kept in kennels, or in small wooden houses erected for the purpose in a back garden or yard. These abodes are generally in some open court, or little square or “grove,” where there is a free access of air. An old man who was sitting at his door in the summer evening, when I called upon a dog-seller, and had to wait a short time, told me that so quiet were his next-door neighbour’s (the street-hawker’s) dogs, that for some weeks, he did not know his newly-come neighbour was a dog-man; although he was an old nervous man himself, and couldn’t bear any unpleasant noise or smell. The scrupulous observance of cleanliness is necessary in the rearing or keeping of small fancy dogs, for without such observance the dog would have a disagreeable odour about it, enough to repel any lady-buyer. It is a not uncommon declaration among dog-sellers that the animals are “as sweet as nuts.” Let it be remembered that I have been describing the class of regular dog-sellers, making, by an open and established trade, a tolerable livelihood.

The spaniels, terriers, &c., the stock of these hawkers, are either bred by them—and they all breed a few or a good many dogs—or they are purchased of dog-dealers (not street-sellers), or of people who having a good fancy breed of “King Charleses,” or “Blenheims,” rear dogs, and sell them by the litter to the hawkers. The hawkers also buy dogs brought to them, “in the way of business,” but they are wary how they buy any animal suspected to be stolen, or they may get into “trouble.” One man, a carver and gilder, I was informed, some ten years back, made a good deal of money by his “black-patched” spaniels. These dogs had a remarkable black patch over their eyes, and so fond was the dog-fancier, or breeder of them, that when he disposed of them to street-sellers or others, he usually gave a portrait of the animals, of his own rude painting, into the bargain. These paintings he also sold, slightly framed, and I have seen them—but not so much lately—offered in the streets, and hung up in poor persons’ rooms. This man lived in York-square, behind the Colosseum, then a not very reputable quarter. It is now Munster-square, and of a reformed character, but the seller of dogs and the donor of their portraits has for some time been lost sight of.

The prices at which fancy-dogs are sold in the streets are about the same for all kinds. They run from 10s. to 5l. 5s., but are very rarely so low as 10s., as “it’s only a very scrubby thing for that.” Two and three guineas are frequent street prices for a spaniel or small terrier. Of the dogs sold, as I have before stated, more than one-half are spaniels. Of the remainder, more than one-half are terriers; and the surplusage, after this reckoning, is composed in about equal numbers of the other dogs I have mentioned. The exportation of dogs is not above a twentieth of what it was before the appointment of the Select Committee, but a French or Belgium dealer sometimes comes to London to buy dogs.

It is not easy to fix upon any per-centage as to the profit of the street dog-sellers. There is the keep and the rearing of the animal to consider; and there is the same uncertainty in the traffic as in all traffics which depend, not upon a demand for use, but on the caprices of fashion, or—to use the more appropriate word, when writing on such a subject—of “fancy.” A hawker may sell three dogs in one day, without any extraordinary effort, or, in the same manner of trading, and frequenting the very same places, may sell only one in three days. In the winter, the dogs are sometimes offered in public houses, but seldom as regards the higher-priced animals.

From the best data I can command, it appears that each hawker sells “three dogs and a half, if you take it that way, splitting a dog like, every week the year through; that is, sir, four or five one week in the summer, when trade’s brisk and days are long, and only two or three the next week, when trade may be flat, and in winter when there isn’t the same chance.” Calculating, then, that seven dogs are sold by each hawker in a fortnight, at an average price of 50s. each, which is not a high average, and supposing that but twenty men are trading in this line the year through, we find that no less a sum than 9100l. is yearly expended in this street-trade. The weekly profit of the hawker is from 25s. to 40s. More than seven-eighths of these dogs are bred in this country, Italian greyhounds included.

A hawker of dogs gave me a statement of his life, but it presented so little of incident or of change, that I need not report it. He had assisted and then succeeded his father in the business; was a pains-taking, temperate, and industrious man, seldom taking even a glass of ale, so that the tenour of his way had been even, and he was prosperous enough.

I will next give an account of the connection of the hawkers of dogs with the “sporting” or “fancy” part of the business; and of the present state of dog “finding,” to show the change since the parliamentary investigation.

I may observe that in this traffic the word “fancy” has two significations. A dog recommended by its beauty, or any peculiarity, so that it be suitable for a pet-dog, is a “fancy” animal; so is he if he be a fighter, or a killer of rats, however ugly or common-looking; but the term “sporting dog” seems to become more and more used in this case: nor is the first-mentioned use of the word “fancy,” at all strained or very original, for it is lexicographically defined as “an opinion bred rather by the imagination than the reason, inclination, liking, caprice, humour, whim, frolick, idle scheme, vagary.”