Every morning as true as the clock--the quiet of "Our Village Green" is broken by a peculiar and suggestive cry. We do not hear it yet ourselves, but Pincher, our black and tan terrier dog, and s.m.u.t, our black and white cat, have both caught the well-known accents, and each with natural characteristic--the one wagging his tail, the other with a stiff perpendicular [dorsel appendage] sidles towards the door, demanding as plainly as possible, to be let out. Yes, it is "Our Dandy Cats' and Dogs'

Meat Man," with his "_Ca' me-e-et--dogs' me yet--Ca' or do-args-me-a-yet, me a-t--me-yett!!!_" that fills the morning air, and arouses exactly seven dogs of various kinds, and exactly thirty-one responsive feline voices--there is a cat to every house on "Our Village Green"--and causes thirty-one aspiring cat's-tails to point to the zenith. We do not know how it is, but the Cat's-meat man is the most unerring and punctual of all those peripatetic functionaries who undertake to cater for the public. The baker, the butcher, the grocer, the b.u.t.terman, the fishmonger, and the coster, occasionally forget your necessities, or omit to call for your orders--the cat's-meat man never!

[Ill.u.s.tration: GUY FAWKES--GUY.]

There cannot be a better representation of "Guy Fawkes," as he was borne about the metropolis in effigy in the days "When George the Third was King," than the above sketch by George Cruikshank.

Please to remember the fifth of November, Gunpowder treason and plot; We know no reason, why gunpowder treason, Should ever be forgot!

Holla boys! holla boys! huzza-a-a!

A stick and a stake, for King George's sake, A stick and a stump, for Guy Fawkes' rump!

Holla boys! holla boys! huzza-a-a!

[Ill.u.s.tration: HENRY LEMOINE, The Literary and Pedestrian Bookseller and Author, _A well known_ Eccentric Character of the City of London.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: ALL ROUND MY HAT I VEARS A GREEN VILLOW.]

All round my hat I vears a green villow, All round my hat, for a twelvemonth and a day; If any body axes me the reason vy I vears it, I tells 'em that my own true love is far far away.

'Twas a going of my rounds, in the streets I first did meet her, Oh, I thought she vos a hangel just come down from the sky;

SPOKEN.--She's a nice wegitable countenance; turnup nose, redish cheeks, and carroty hair.

And I never knew a voice more louder or more sweeter, Vhen she cried, buy my primroses, my primroses come buy.

SPOKEN.--Here's your fine colliflowers.

All round, &c.

O, my love she was fair, my love she was kind, too, And cruel vos the cruel judge vot had my love to try:

SPOKEN.--Here's your precious turnups.

For thieving vos a thing she never vos inclined to: But he sent my love across the seas, far far away.

SPOKEN.--Here's your hard-hearted cabbages.

All round, &c.

For seven long years my love and I is parted, For seven long years my love is bound to stay.

SPOKEN.--It's a precious long time 'fore I does any trade to-day.

Bad luck to that chap vot'd ever be false-hearted, Oh, I'll love my love for ever, tho' she's far far away.

SPOKEN.--Here's your nice heads of salary!

All round, &c.

There is some young men so preciously deceitful, A coaxing of the young gals they vish to lead astray.

SPOKEN.--Here's your Valnuts; crack'em and try'em, a shilling a hundred!

As soon as they deceives'em, so cruelly they leaves 'em, And they never sighs nor sorrows ven they're far far away!--

SPOKEN.--Do you vant any hingons to-day, marm?

All round, &c.

Oh, I bought my love a ring on the werry day she started, Vich I gave her as a token all to remember me:

SPOKEN.--Bless her h-eyes,

And vhen she does come back, oh, ve'll never more be parted But ve'll marry and be happy--oh, for ever and a day.

SPOKEN.--Here's your fine spring redishes.

All round, &c.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE NEW LONDON CRIES.]

_Tune_--"The Night Coach."

Dear me! what a squalling and a bawling, What noise, and what bustle in London pervades; People of all sorts shouting and calling, London's a mart, sure, for men of all trades.

The _chummy_ so black, sir, with bag on his back, sir, Commences the noise with the cry of "sweep, sweep!"

Then Dusty and Crusty with voices so l.u.s.ty, Fish-men and green-men, their nuisances keep.

Dear me, &c.

Fine water cresses, two bunches a penny, Fine new milk, two-pence ha'p'ny a quart!

Come buy my fine matches--as long as I've any, Carrots and turnips, the finest e'er bought.

Dainty fresh salmon! _without_ any _gammon_, Hare skins or rabbit skins! hare skins, cook I buy!

'Taters all sound, sir, two-pence six pounds, sir, Coals ten-pence a bushel, buy them and try.

Dear me, &c.

Here's songs three yards for a penny!

Comic songs, love songs, and funny songs, too; _Billy Barlow_,--_Little Mike_,--_Paddy Denny!_ _The Bailiffs are coming_--_The Hero of Waterloo_.

Eels four-pence a pound--pen knives here ground, Scissors ground sharp, a penny a pair!

Tin kettles to mend, sir, your fenders here send, sir, For six-pence a piece, I will paint 'em with care.

Dear me, &c.

Come buy my _old man_, a penny a root, The whole true account of the murder last night!

Fine Seville oranges, ne'er was such fruit, Just printed and published, the last famous fight.

Arrived here this morning--strange news from Greece, A victory gain'd o'er the great Turkish fleet; Chairs to mend--hair brooms, a shilling a piece!

Cap box, bonnet box--cats' and dogs' meat.

Dear me, &c.

Here's _inguns_ a penny a rope, Pots and pans--old clothes, clo' for sale!

A dread storm near the Cape of Good Hope.

Greens two-pence a bunch--twenty-pence a new pail.

Sprats, a penny a plateful--I should feel werry grateful, Kind friends for a ha'p'ny for my babe's sakes; Shrimps, penny a pot--baked 'taters all hot!

m.u.f.fins and crumpets, or fine Yorkshire cakes.