"THE HUMOURS OF POLITICAL
"I then moved to 122 Snargate Street, rent £30 yearly. I had a pony and light cart in a stable in Worthington Lane, which I found very beneficial to my work.
One night I left my cart out, in order to make an early start the next morning with election bills in the County for Major DICKSON. I found some foolish persons had painted my cart all over with blue paint. it took me three hours to get it off, for they had been very liberal with their blue paint. On another occasion I hired the hoarding outside the London and County Bank. I had posted it full of red bills in the night. The posters for the other side covered it with blue bills. As I had sole right to it, I covered their bills up again. Old Mr RUTLEY and two more friends waited at the "Flying Horse" Hotel, and about twelve o'clock at night the "Blue" men began to cover up my bills again. My friends went across, got hold of their paste-can (about two gallons of paste) and emptied it all over them! My word! There was a set out; but it put a stop to them, for they hired the upper part on the scaffolding and made a show on their own account.
BECKER, Town Crier (PHOTO) (Dover Express 23.2.1912 p.8)
Mr C. BECKER, Dover Town Crier (PHOTO of him) “celebrates 80th Birthday on February 27th. Town Crier for 48 years.
(Dover Express 6.2.1914 p.2)
On another occasion I had a country journey for the County Election. I had got as far as Swingate, and made a good display, when a friend came along and said, "Charlie, old friend; are you going to have a glass?" In we went, and on my return to my work I found, to my dismay, the pony had drank every drop of the paste! His mouth was all over froth. I suppose the pony thought that as I was having refreshment, he would have some too.
We came back, and made another start the next day, and in driving along the road I overtook old Mr FAITH the policeman. I said "Jump up." We had not gone far on the road when down went the pony, and bundled us out. We were not hurt, and having got the pony up, I said to FAITH, "Jump up; we will have another try!" "Not me" he said, I told him I thought a policeman had more pluck. Then off he went, safe and sound.
I was once in danger. I had posted a large quantity of bills for one of the circuses, and it was usual to give the agent in advance a tip, and he left me to do the work. After I had the bills all up another agent came with his horse and cart to inspect the stations. He was as "drunk as a lord", and demanded me to come with him in his cart. He said he had been all round the town, and could not see the work. No wonder! He was too drunk to see. I did not like the state he was in, but he would make me jump up, and to avoid the excitement he made outside my house in Park Street, I jumped up, but I thought it was all up with me, for he drove at a gallop down Dour Street, and in turning the two corners the cart very nearly upset.
I showed him the bills at Charlton Green, the Cricket Ground, and at Tower Hamlets. He still drove at a gallop. I told him to pull up at the "Falcon". I got down, went in at the front door, and slipped out of the back door into Bridge Street, then into Peter Street and home as quickly as I could. He never turned up and I never saw him again.
I found it a long way from 122 Snargate Street to the stable in Worthington Street, where I used to feed the pony in the evening and lock him up for the night. One morning he had got out of his "bedroom". I had hung a bag of corn on one of the rafters. The pony, getting at that, had gnawed a hole in te bag, and all the corn fell through onto the stable floor. The pony had as much as he wanted, and more than he ought to have had. There was a bundle of green-meat there as well, and there was not much left of that. The poor old fellow, overdone by over-feeding, "turned up his heels", and was sent to the kennels. I then gave up driving, and sold the cart. When I had that turn-out I was called the "Gentleman Bill-Poster", for I had a smart cart, painted cream