A dog show

An illustration of a dog show from the book 'Journeys through London, or, byways of modern Babylon' by James Greenwood, undated, c.1873. Following an advert in Bell's Life, Greenwood decides to visit a Sunday show at Mr. Lerinke's, at the Duck in Bethnal Green. He describes entering the room in the pub: 'When the door was pushed open there belched out a cloud so warm, so dense, so redolent of rank tobacco and spirituous liquors that only that a man came up close behind me laden with a snarling cur I think I should have retreated. In I went, however, and this is what I saw: A long, narrow room shallow from floor to ceiling as a church vault, and (by reason of the foul vapour) as gloomy, although there were several jets of gas burning... Round the walls were more stuffed dogs and pictures of fighting-men and running-men, and of dogs killing rats, and of dogs and cocks killing each other.'

Of the company, Greenwood remarks that 'there were, I should say, at least fifty of them; some with black coats and hats with curly rims, some in caps and flannel jackets, some with smocks and "ankle-jacks" - all, or nearly all, bull-necked, heavy-jawed, and with the hair dressed after a fashion known among its patrons as the "Newgate-knocker" style - that is, parted in masses on each side of the head, and turned under unnaturally. Every man possessed at least one dog, and as he sat at the table the animal was squatted by the side of his pot or glass, with his arm round it. These, however, were the "toy" dogs, marvels of shape and size - so small, some of them, that their weight is reckoned by ounces, and with limbs but little thicker than the stem of a tobacco-pipe, with beautifully-formed heads, and eyes full of intelligence. One could not help reflecting, after gazing first on the dog, then on its keeper, what a pity it was that the former should be tied to such a low-bred companion!"