A Ballad of Dover Streets.

A Good Old Custom.

O YEZ! O YEZ! Good people all pray listen to my tale

‘Tis of a good custom which in Dover does prevail.

When Christmas comes to brighten up the closing year

This custom is to make a show of rarest Christmas cheer.

Another custom has come in - a right good custom too

Of telling in our newspapers of all that is smart and new.

That custom I would fair observe so at my task I go

But while I take my notebook out and sharpen my H. B.

I’d preface with this one remark with which you may agree

I mean to be impartial and to give a verdict true

To those who advertise and those who don’t I’ll give their true.

On Buckland Bridge.

On Buckland Bridge I take my stand by Goodchild the bakers

The Bull next door quite jolly seems minus the famed “three acres”

There’s Vinnall’s shop of groceries, well decked with ivy green

While Pierce’s meat well fed and dressed, is fit for king or Queen.

Town-ward I trudge and pass en route Endeavour's New and Old

While Huntley’s is ensconce between a rare sight to behold.

Now on this side the Brewery stands on that the flourmill

A text from which a preacher might well a column fill.

But I must fill my columns up with other kind of matter

There’s so much to mention down below I thought I would not flatter.

The groceries at Swinnock’s stores are smartly set in order

With fruit in plateau’s neatly ranged and holly for a border.

Next door is Atmore’s a rare shop for buns and cakes and tarts

While Mr. Simpson down below has beef enough to cheer our hearts.

Near Mr. Simpson’s is a Steer but not for Christmas fare

He is a greengrocer by trade, and has a show most rare.

Unto our Buckland Councillors respect I now must pay

Unlimited his customers that’s what the papers say.

His genial pleasant manner will - tis said take no denial

So if you go up London Road, you’ll give his shop a trial.

Just one long stride and then I pause again to make some more notes

Where Mr. Earl sells drapery, and men’s warm overcoats

And here the Falcon watchful guards a Councillors abode

My compliments to Mr. Birch and so ends London Road.

At these cross roads on a time a felon was interred

His bones were found some months ago, as you perhaps have heard!

A rare good sign full sure it is- of felons there’s a dearth

The only way to find them here is digging in the earth.

These cross roads tempt me to digress, but still I must not yield

Through Bridge Street and the Hamlets to afford an ample field.

To tell of Christmas doings - I must keep to the highway

For as I steer to the Pier there will be much to say.

Turning to High Street first of all I have no little pleasure

In naming Mr. Clark’s bright shop, fruit rich, and cakes to treasure.

Then if you would nic-nac’s bur, step into the draper shop

Where Mr. Griffith’s has a show, which makes all passers stop.

At Mr. Elms there’s a display of things both sweet and pretty

If here you cannot suit your taste, surely ‘twill be a pity.

Next, Mr. Pepper’s shop you’ll find where Peter Street begins, here’s primmest ribs and rounds, and beds and fine soup-yielding shins.

A land of cakes is Mr. Foord’s, no better need you seek

And Mr. Watt’s of Mental Foods has large supplies all week.

A new meat store you’ll find below, set up by Mr. Halke

The carved beast heads above the door invite you in to walk.

Here Mr. Hatch display’s the “weed” sun dried in rare perfection

And Mr. Wright his hardware shows soliciting inspection.

Here is Charlton Post Office, the parcel post likewise

Here you may buy your groceries, and post home your supplies.

But if you want a present, pray look at Tomlin’s stock

You’ll find artistic jewellery, or else a handsome clock.

Or if your taste is hard and cold, and iron is your request

Then Matthew Pepper’s o’er the way will no doubt suit you best.

Another member? bless my soul, how thick they are this way

My compliments new councillor from me I pray.

Onward I trudge then pause a bit, to jot down just a line

For Illenden’s have truly made their shop look wondrous fine.

And who’ll deny a word of praise to Chapman’s drapery stock

The jackets are a talking line, likewise the baby’s frock.

Then o’er the way you’ll find a shop where ends Victoria Crescent

Where Mr. Taylor’s groceries look rare and rich and very pleasant.

The hospital I next pass by, may God each inmate cheer

And fill each heart with growing hope to meet the coming year.

Now here is Mr. Baker’s shop, decked out with cakes most taking

His name and trade agree quite well, as he is A.1 at baking.

Just one more shop I here must name, ‘tis that of Mr. Bayley

His beef is fine, his mutton prime, and all is dressed so gaily.

And now I halt at Ladywell, for I should be remiss

If I omitted to describe a well known place like this.

I must be brief, however, here for space already cramps

Meadow’s will send you anything, from chairs to handsome lamps.

Greengrocer’s there are three or four - each good in his own way

And Mr. Fox, his cakes and buns has set in rich array.

J. Adam’s of the “Park” sells beer, G. Adams near sells beef

And if you do those things abuse, R. Adams gives relief.

Then there’s Park Place grocery store, its windows face both ways

And so well dressed the manager deserves a word of praise.

But here I pass from Ladywell, I must salute the Mayor

Vivs Adcock, and free dinners, which the children daily share.

And now I come to Biggin Street, the rising mart of Dover

The tradesmen who do business here, are said to live in clover.

The drawback which they chiefly feel, is want of width of way

And then to widen it, there’ll be an awful bill to pay.

So you must jog on as you are, and do the best you can

For a consuming fire is worse than frying in the pan

But I am sadly dawdling now, I must make up lost time

There’s Newport fruits - and Tappey boots, and Ellis sweets sublime.

There’s Brace with flowers, there’s boots restored, there’s Castle’s beef that’s tender

And Miss A. Pain, need I explain, is a well-known newsvendor.

John Parton doing well, I know his smile is bright and hearty

And Blackman’s coffee grinder seems quite an industrious “party.”

Now Stockwell, brother of the press, thy sign looks smart and gay

While Baker speaks in black and white, from just across the way.

Here Adam’s makes a goodly show of Christmas beef well fed

And Burkett shows the staff of life - a stock of well made bread.

Now here’s the Priory Dinning Rooms, I must just have a snack

Here boy, my book and pencil hold, and wait till I come back.

And now I’m on the track again, and there goes Bowman’s bell

Time flies, the day is now half-gone, and I have much to tell.

Here’s Mr. Burt’s fine handsome shop, pray do not pass this over

It equals any in it’s line from end to end of Dover.

Now lets see, here’s Priory Street leading to Folkestone Road

Some notice to the shops up here, there is a justice owed.

There’s Attwood who sells papers, as you go up to the station

There’s Rugly’s who sell cakes and wine, without inebriation.

There’s Edward’s shop enlarged this year, a rare emporium now

A credit to the acreage where browses the Red Cow.

At York Street corner, Longley’s beef keeps up it’s old renown

Well worthy the proximity of over looking the “Crown”

And now in Biggin Street I’m back, mincemeat and cakes I note 

As usual are at Morris’s and good they are I vote.

Now Mr. Wood your beef looks good, likewise your mutton too

And so do Rubie’s groceries, to give to them their due.

I should invite a special line for fruits be crystallizes 

And other novel things he sells, under the name “surprise’s.”

Now here Pencester-flanked on one side with boots 

And on the other pretty things, which each stray fancy suits.

What shall I say of Richard now? His fruits are very fine 

I’d like him to supply desert when I go out to dine.

Next look at Scott’s, a sweet shop this, replete with rare confections

So gaily dressed, and well arranged, you’ll find few such collections.

On Gillman’s prime beef neatly dressed, I must my praise bestow

At Hatton’s drapery mart, there is a pretty Christmas show.

Next, let me call attention to the shop of Mr. Amos 

For toys and dolls and Christmas gifts, I must pronounce it famous.

At Mr. Spain’s there is a show of very pretty cakes 

And Marsh’s fruit in his new shop, a good impression makes.

Here’s Mr. Stewart milk shop, bright, polished, and spick and span new 

I fancy if it keeps like that there’ll be a chance to do.

Geddes has a good show of boots, Masters will do his share

To put things right for festive time, by dressing peoples hair.

The Misses Horsnail make a good show of Christmas cards and books 

While o’er the way, Saracen has Christmas in his looks.

And now good-day to Biggin Street, my long task there is done

I’ve found a lot of shops up there, where some folks found but one.

Classic Canon Street.

I pass ye ancient Biggin Gate to classic Canon Street

Where old St. Mary’s tower, aloft o’er the churchyard smart and neat.

Our Council dubs this Cannon Street, and with two n’s indite it 

Tis Canon church not Cannon state, so please with one “n” please write it.

And coming now to business things, prey let us next proceed 

To where John Highland mon presides, o’er many a favourite weed.

But keep your wonder and surprise for Sutton’s store of toys

A perfect paradise for girls, a very heaven for boys.

Now, Standen’s, Penny’s, Bannon’s, Clark’s in turn invite inspection

Wright’s ample store seems more and more approaching perfection.

Of jugs and cans, and pots and pans, at Welch’s there’s no end

While on Scotch cakes just opposite, you may your fortune spend.

And now before from Canon Street, I can consent to part

Just this corner shop you know belongs to Mr. Hart.

O Patron Saint St. Martin, come I pray unto my aid

Inspire my song and tell me where my stand shall now be made.

Ah! Yes I see at Illenden’s, what starting could be neater

And where in the world are cakes so nicely made or sweeter?

I dote upon that cakely show, it makes my spirit rise

With such cakes to fall back upon - I fogs and mud despise.

Now, as the Irishman said “I pass on round the square.” 

Flashman’s demands high praises indeed, the goods are rich and rare.

Killick and Back have got the knack of sailing with the breeze, 

And now the present buying whim, they seemed inclined to please.

They say good wine doth need no bush, Binfield’s I need not flatter

But Johnson’s books I well can vouch, are full of useful matter.

Now shall I cross the Market Place? There is not much to see

But there’s the Carlton Club aloft, beneath there’s Indian Tea.

There’s Waterloo, a name to note recalling British valour

‘Twas men made Waterloo a name, and who makes man? The tailor?

Now if you wish to fill your pipe, call next on Mr. Mate

And pause at the New Postal Place, a blessing from the State.

Then look around for Sedgewick’s stall, a local institution

Where books and tools, and odds and ends, you’ll find in rare confusion.

Just round in King Street, pause and look beside the County Bank

For presents suited to all tastes, bacon holds foremost rank.

And now a word of greeting to my Tory friend Chron

And likewise to our Standard friend a little further on.

The Market Lane establishment makes an imposing show

Of British produce and rare things, which foreign climes bestow.

In Last Lane, Binfield’s grocery store is certainly attractive

And business seems from morn till night unusually active.

To Bench Street now I make my way, and note the Francis Wood

Is making a right noble show of beef that’s prime and good.

Of pork at Zoller’s you will find the primmest dairy feed

While Ball, in beef and mutton too, is keeping well ahead.

Webb, who to Dowle successor is, has fruit of every kind

Of rosy apple pyramids, and hills of dates behind.

At Snargate corner Page’s shop keeps up its reputation

While Thiselton’s on Townwall side, is equal to the occasion.

Just round the corner Swafferes is quite a show, collecting crowds at night

Before Cuff Brothers window I could stand and gaze for hours

But to describe the things on view, would much o’er tax my powers.

The silver ormolu and brass, plush ivory, Russian leather

You’d have to travel many miles, to find their equals brought together.

The book department is well stocked with latest things to print

And diaries and annuals are piled there without stint.

Then over there is Woodruff’s place, dazzling with silvery brightness 

And if you enter, you’ll surely greeted with politeness.

The fancy goods are very choice, the prices are in reason

In fact, just the pace to go at this “present” season.

Now ancient Snargate ward I tread, what means this crowd I meet? 

Why surely Elgar’s customers monopolise the street.

This must not be - move on I pray, each man take off your joint

I’ll speak to Sanders he must be here, some extra men appoint.

Here’s Haynes hairdresser of repute, a well-known local figure

And Humphrey’s who sells prime cigars and real Dover mixture.

At Haseldine’s, ball dresses form quite a unique display 

While Sclater’s pictures vie with Beckers curios o’er the way.

Now Snargate Street is very long, and space is getting small

I cannot find a line on each, if I would mention all.

But Mrs. Dudeney’s dual shops, must not be treated lightly

The goods are pretty to the eye, and good if I hear rightly.

Of Spain’s I’ve spoken many a year, just walk into their showroom

If I attempted all to tell, I’m certain there be no room.

At Igglesden’s there’s jewellery, watches and chains and lockets

You’ll find at Tom Tidler’s ground, with money in your pockets.

Here Mr. Webb, the peoples friend, who’s promised work for all

There certainly is work for some, to clear his well-filled stall.

And now a word, the Express well filled with mental meat

The pepper and the mustard’s in the gossip of the street.

Paine’s fancy drapery shop comes next, there’s one more just below

While intervening you will find Carriers rare and china show.

But drat it I must hurry on or ere my task is done, I shall find all the shutters up, and so miss all the fun.

Here’s Sproston’s draw and Cottrell pills and Frazer’s art depot

Amos and Grossmann’s photo shops, you choose to which you’ll go.

But wait a bit, I had forgot the famed Snargate Bazaar

Go in see for yourselves, and drive away dull care.

At Goulden’s there’s a show room full of many a novel notion

Describing them would only seem like bailing out the ocean.

Now Pointer’s need no pointing out for o i c u r going

Paper, Mama, and baby’s gone to see the things there’s showing.

Here’s Rowland’s sweets, a tempting lot and Langley’s fruity show

And Newton’s nice confectionary, which sets ones heart aglow.

Bottle and Gandy’s shop today is quite a local feature

And their full sized brown Wiltshire pig is a most handsome creature.

The Shaftesbury Café demands a line, and Pettitt’s window too

While the Red Shop and Dela Hayes alike, must have their due.

But now I hurry up a bit, ah! Here is Drincqbier’s shop

Chock full of turkeys, geese, game, fish, but here detail must stop.

Then on to Thorpe’s rare show of meat, well-fed dressed and displayed

Some fifty carcasses must fall to meet his Christmas trade.

Now just one more word for Mr. King, newsvendor for the Pier

He sells “Expresses” every week and yearbooks every year.

My song is done, I’ve left some out, but they must be contented

For if this rhyming I keep on, I shall be soon demented.

Compiled by J. Banks.