Arthur Stringer

“ As these loaded carts jolt over the stony road, a ragged band of cadaverous and hungry-eyed urchins, trailing behind them ludicrously improvised wheeled things, follow them like vultures, waiting to pounce down on any loose chunk of coal that may jolt unnoticed from the big cart.
At times, when the roads are not so bad as usual, they deliberately fling mud and stones at the drivers of the carts. When the drivers become angry at this, and hurl pieces of coal at them, they passively gather up the pieces and put them in their two-wheeled carts. ”

“ In the cart lay several pieces of coal, many of them weighing almost a pound.
Suddenly the jubilant owner dodged back to his cart with a great piece of coal, almost the size of the Child's head. The possessor of the tin pail eyed the cart-owner with a certain reverential awe. Such wealth seemed fabulous to him. As the coal king dropped his precious burden into the soap-box, a man driving past in a yellow dog-cart flung his cigar stub into the neighbouring gutter. The quick eye of the coal king saw the act, and again he dived out into the mud. ”

“ As they rush out, ankle deep in mud, it is a sort of standing joke and a time-honoured custom for the big drivers to cut at the half-bare legs of the ragged youngsters with their great keen, long-lashed whips. ”