[Illustration: "_Flowers, penny a bunch._"] Old London Street Cries AND THE CRIES OF TO-DAY WITH _Heaps of Quaint Cuts_ INCLUDING _Hand-coloured Frontispiece_: BY ANDREW W. TUER, Author of "Bartolozzi and his Works," &c. [Illustration] 1887. NEW YORK: _Published for_ The Old London Street Company, 728, BROADWAY. [Rights Reserved: Wrongs Revenged! [Illustration] PRINTED AT THE LEADENHALL PRESS, LONDON, E.C. T 4,237. Introductory. The "Cries" have been sufficiently well received in bolder form to induce the publication of this additionally illustrated extension at a more popular price. [Illustration] _Old London Street Cries._ Dates, unless in the form of the luscious fruit of Smyrna, are generally dry. It is enough therefore to state that the earliest mention of London Cries is found in a quaint old ballad entitled "London Lyckpenny," or Lack penny, by that prolific writer, John Lydgate, a Benedictine monk of Bury St. Edmunds, who flourished about the middle of the fifteenth century. These cries are particularly quaint, and especially valuable as a record of the daily life of the time. * * * * * Then unto London I dyd me hye, Of all the land it beareth the pryse: Hot pescodes, one began to crye, Strabery rype, and cherryes in the ryse;[1] [Illustration: "_I love a Ballad in print, a'life; for then we are sure they are true._"--WINTER'S TALE, Act. iv., Sc. iv.] One bad me come nere and by some spyce, Peper and safforne they gan me bede, But for lack of money I myght not spede. Then to the Chepe I began me drawne, Where mutch people I saw for to stande; One spred me velvet, sylke, and lawne, Another he taketh me by the hande, "Here is Parys thred, the fynest in the land;" I never was used to such thyngs indede, And wantyng money I myght not spede. Then went I forth by London stone, Throughout all Canwyke[2] Streete; Drapers mutch cloth me offred anone, Then comes me one cryed hot shepes feete; One cryde makerell, ryster[3] grene, an other gan greete On bad me by a hood to cover my head, But for want of mony I myght not be sped. Then I hyed me into Est-Chepe; One cryes rybbs of befe, and many a pye; * * * * *