Tuesday 10 December 2019

Tink & Taylor: A Christmas Dirge


Every generation has its Tink and Taylor’s: gentlemen of a simpler nature; one might call buffoons to be spiteful, but good natured to be sure. The Victorian age of enlightenment was no different and there we can find Tink and Taylor ready to indulge in a bit of petty thievery, but surely for the best of reasons –they felt aggrieved by a certain gentleman we shall call E. for history has other tales to tell.
December was a hard month; bad enough if you were industrious and worked in such crippling conditions but neither Tink nor Taylor knew much of industry. They tried selling hot chestnuts in the middle of summer and then, at the present time, ‘mint bullets’ (a sweet that was neither crunchy nor chewy, but a stage inbetwixt. It didn’t taste much like mint either!). They had the misfortune of borrowing money from E. during the harshest winter and it was a time that no one wanted sweets, let alone funny tasting mint ones.
They were down to their last few pennies and couldn’t afford to pay the rent any more. They tried to petition E. for leniency and even tried to offer him free sweets as a part payment. E. wanted none of this and walked away with a scornful: “Mint bullets? Humbug is more like it! You have a few more days, gentlemen, to supply me with what is rightfully mine otherwise I will take what is rightfully yours, Christmas or no Christmas!”
Tink and Taylor looked at each other with dismay.
“What are we going to do? Do you think we should have sold chestnuts like the rest of ‘em?” Tink asked, scratching his beard.
“We’re just men of vision –no one appreciates men of vision.” Taylor replied. “Until they’re dead.”
“So… I don’t want to die in order to become rich.. at least, I don’t think I do. What do you we do next then?”
“I don’t think we can get money the honest way.” Taylor stated matter-of-factly. “We’ve tried, God knows we’ve tried.. but whether this business succeeds or fails I wants a bit of satisfaction with old misery there. I wants me own back on ‘im.”
“What do you suggest, like? I don’t like ‘im, but I don’t’s want to ‘urt ‘im either.”
“I suggest we frighten the old bugger.” Taylor replied. Taylor was a large, portly chap and not one to annoy, except when he was in his cups and merry… which was most of the time. Tink was always good natured, just a little more simple than most.
Both had read Sir Walter Scott’s ‘Wandering Willie’s Tale’ and Washington Irving’s “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow” and knew of the concept of hauntings and could think of no better way than to frighten the money out of E. They had it in mind to dress up as ghosts, cover themselves in cheap bed linen and douse themselves in flour so they would leave ghostly vapours in their midst. The plan couldn’t fail.
The first night they tried to scare the fortune out of him, they managed to sneak into his abode before he locked it up for the night. Tiptoeing up the stairs they tried their best to hide their merriment, both having partaken several mugs of their own brand of scrumpy cider for courage (Since the dawn of time the Tink and Taylors of the world have always managed to create alcohol from whatever was around them, the Victorian era was no different.). As they neared E.’s bedroom however they heard something already disturbing the scene. The door was open a crack and both tried to listen to what was happening.
““What! Would you so soon put out, with worldly hands, the light I give? Is it not enough that you are one of those whose passions made this cap, and force me through whole trains of years to wear it low upon my brow!”
Tink had his ear closest to the door and shook his head, he couldn’t fathom what was happening or just who was talking to who.
“What’s wrong, Tink? What’s going on?” Taylor asked, trying to push his way in.
“I dunno, but looks like someone’s beaten us to it.” Tink whispered. “There’s someone already in there with ‘im!”
“What? What are they saying?”
“The geezer’s tellin’ ‘im about ‘at’s! I think ‘ee was an ‘abberdasher that’s gone out of business!”
“See, it’s not just us ‘e’s victimising. E’ll go after anyone!” Taylor replied.
“Wait a minute, scarper – they’re coming this way!” Tink hissed, watching in horror as the two started walking towards them. He backed away, knowing there wasn’t anywhere to hide, yet no one exited the room causing Taylor to poke his head round the doorway. To their surprise there was no one in the room at all.
“What ‘appened, Tink? I thought you said they were both in there!”
Tink barged into the room and was shocked to see that they’d both disappeared. “Bloody ‘ell. I swear’s to you, Taylor –they were right there!”
“I guess we’ll ‘ave to try tomorrow night then!”
“Phew, that means we’ll be able to get out of these bloody sheets!”

The next evening they elected to try again, this time without the sheets. It was far better to use trickery strange voices than show physical embodiments –the sheets were very unwieldy and, what was worse, the flour made them sneeze.
Sneaking stealthily up the stairs they were determined to get inside E.’s bedroom this night. Once inside they would be able to hide and throw their voices (or shout very loudly, if nothing else) and frighten E. into giving them money and food.
The bedroom door was ajar again and once again there was someone else inside with E. This time both men could see who it was. It was a giant of a man, dressed in a simple green robe, bordered with white fur showing his hairy chest. His hair was rich and curly too with a holly wreath atop. The man seemed merry but E. was anything but, cowering and shivering in front of him, despite a roaring fire.
“You have never seen the like of me before!” exclaimed the giant man.
“Never,” E. replied, cowering.
 “Have never walked forth with the younger members of my family; meaning (for I am very young) my elder brothers born in these later years?”
Tink looked at Taylor and shrugged as they shuffled back into the hall.
“Someone else is playing a number on old E.” Taylor hissed.
“Think it’s sumfink we can get a look in on?” Taylor replied.
“I dunno, ‘e looked a big bugger; I wouldn’t want to go messing in with him, would you?”
“There’s two of us…” Taylor chided.
“But there only needs to be one of ‘im! And god knows ‘oo else ‘e ‘as wif ‘im.” Tink explained. Taylor hadn’t thought of that so they took one last look into the room. To their shock and dismay neither the giant nor E. were there.
“Twice? This has happened twice to us now, Tink. Now I’m not a superstitious sort but there’s something goin’ on ‘ere, and there’s no mistake.”
“Look – ‘e’s left something behind, that giant bloke.” Tink said pointing to a sack by the fire. Inside the sack were two flowing robes, of the deepest green, that were similar to what the giant wore.
“Waste not, want not.” Taylor said, snatching the robes and giving one to Tink.
“Who know’s, maybe we can use these tomorrow.” Tink replied. “I say we give it one more try. Third times the charm, right?”

Dressed in their stately green robes Tink and Taylor were more than prepared to forego the haunting and march straight into E.’s room and demand recompense. They were obviously not the first people to have grievances against him but the way this was going there might not be any money left for them.
This third night they were ready to storm through his bedroom door and make a scene but to their dismay yet another person was already there. This time E. was actually kneeling to the stranger, who was shrouded in a deep black garment. Neither Tink nor Taylor could see his face but both had a sense of immense dread. The air around seemed far colder but that wasn’t the only reason they shook. They were about to leave when they heard E. implore the man.
““I fear you more than any spectre I have seen. But as I know your purpose is to do me good, and as I hope to live to be another man from what I was, I am prepared to bear you company, and do it with a thankful heart. Will you not speak to me?”
“Rather ‘im than me.” Tink whispered to Taylor who was still rooted to the spot. Tink turned to leave, but couldn’t. The man in the robe turned to them and pointed. Tink saw the arm stretch out in their direction and was horrified when he saw there was nothing but a skeletal hand; just bone.
“Nope – E. can keep ‘is money! I’m outta here!” And they both fled out into the Christmas Eve night. Behind them the room lay empty, the two men had somehow disappeared again!

Christmas Day was abysmal for Tink and Taylor. Their sweet trolley was on its last legs and there was no one about to buy any of their odd-tasting confectionary. The only thing that was in their favour were the green cloaks that they wore. They were about to call it a day and retreat to the local watering hole when they saw Mr E. storm up to them. Unfortunately there was nowhere for them to hide so they prepared themselves for his tongue-lashing.
“Gentlemen!! My fine, fine gentlemen!” Mr E. said, beaming; his arms outstretched in greeting.
“Does ‘e means us?” Tink asked Taylor.
“Can’t do!” Taylor replied and Mr E. clapped him on the back laughing.
“Native cockney wit, eh? Nothing else like it! Merry Christmas to you both!”
“Merry Christmas to you too, Mr Scrooge.” Tink and Taylor said in unison.
“Have you got any of those delicious sweets left? I should like to buy a load, if I may. They really are my favourite!” Tink and Taylor looked at each other, shocked by the revelation. They had to be dreaming!
“Of course, Sir. How much do you want?” Tink asked, after Taylor kicked him in the shins.
“Let me see… I know… I want to go into partnership with you two, actually. This could be a new venture for me! I’ve been such a sour old man, hated by all that I need a sweeter outlook on life –so what could be greater?” He laughed heartily again.
‘E’s gone of his rocker.’ Tink thought to himself and just nodded in agreement, not knowing what else to say. Taylor did the same.
“Humbug!” Scrooge suddenly exclaimed and Tink wondered what had happened to suddenly change the old bugger’s mind! “HUMBUG! That’s what I’m going to call these wonderful little sweets! HUMBUGS!!”
Taylor let out a sigh of relief and nodded. “That’s a very good idea, Mr Scrooge. Mint humbugs!”
“Mint? They were supposed to be mint?” With that Scrooge roared with laughter. “I thought they were meant to be lavender flavoured!! No matter, we can talk about that later on. Come back with me to my house, I’m feeling generous!”
And go back they did where Mr E. Scrooge bestowed upon them such gifts that they could hardly carry it all home with them: gold coins, mince pies, bottles of claret and a huge turkey! This was surely going to be the best Christmas yet!

And it would have been excepting that on the way home the two, slightly inebriated gentlemen found themselves accosted by a small group of ragamuffins; street urchins out for a quick buck.
“’Ere – what we got going on then? You coming to deliver us our presents then, gents?” The eldest of the lads said with a sly grin. He wore a large top hat obviously denoting his rank.
“We were on our way home… well, we are on our way home.” Tink replied nonchalantly. Taylor kicked him again.
“What my esteemed colleague means to say is that what is ours is yours!”
The urchins cheered and started to help themselves to the duo’s newly given treasure, much to Tink’s dismay.
“’ang on a minute! Time’s is tough for us all, lads –we’ve only just been given all this. You can’t take it all away from us else we’ll be no better off than you!”
“What do you mean?” Asked one of the smaller lads, finer faced with still a glimmer of innocence in eyes.
“We’re so poor I’ve even ‘ad to use me britches for kindling!” Tink replied. The lads laughed at that, and Taylor, seeing an opportunity chipped in.
“That’s right, lads. We don’t call ‘im nickerless for nuttin’! E’s so ‘umble, he should be sainted!”
“Saint Nickerless it is then, lads! Suits you, with that green coat an’ all! We’ll call you St Nickerless in future and leave you be, just don’t forget us when you makes it rich!” The top hatted youth said, grinning his cheeky grin. “And I’ll let you keep the turkey as well, just for making us laugh! Merry Christmas, gents!”
“Merry Christmas, boys!” Tink and Taylor replied. When the kids had run off they looked at each other and smiled.
“Well… we are going to need a workforce if the humbugs take off, like.” Taylor said, and Tink agreed. They still had the turkey and the business proposition to look forward to –it did indeed look as if things were going to pick up for them in future.
“’ere’s to you.” Taylor said, smiling. “And ‘ere’s to Scrooge ‘imself… an’ ‘ere’s to St Nickerless!”

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