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1958 - Michael Joseph |
1958 - Doubleday |
Mrs Harris is a London charlady. One day, she sees a Dior dress belonging to one of her clients, and falls desperately in love with it. Then a miracle occurs, and she wins a hundred pounds on the football pools. So she 'scrimps and syves' until she has enough to buy a Dior dress of her own, and off she goes to Paris to buy it...One of my favourites, this is just wonderful. The adventures she has in Paris are so moving, the people that she meets are all drawn with such affection that I find myself re-reading this book over and over again.
Flowers for Mrs. Harris
Mrs. Harris goes to New York
Mrs. Harris, M.P.
Mrs. Harris goes to Moscow
Other information
Mrs. 'Arris Goes to Paris was #9 in the US bestselling list of 1959. This link will give you as much information about this book as you will ever need!
The book was made into a TV film in 1992, as Mrs 'Arris Goes to Paris. It starred Angela Lansbury, Omar Sharif and Diana Rigg. It's pleasant enough, but not a wonderful movie.
Availability
This is still in print (as Mrs 'Arris goes to Paris - a rotten title, presumably just chosen because it rhymes) in the USA. It is, regretfully, no longer in print in the UK.
Victorian London - Professions and Trades - Service Industry / General - Crossing Sweeps
CHARACTERS ABOUT TOWN
DRAWN BY KENNY MEADOWS
No.II - THE CROSSING-SWEEPER
BY THOMAS MILLER
THE Crossing-Sweeper cannot fairly be classed among our bare-faced
beggars, for he really does something for his livelihood, little
although it be; and there is a legitimate look about his broom stump far
more respectable in our eyes than that clumsy blind, a box of lucifers.
Neither is he, generally speaking, a very persevering supplicant;
indeed, there is often such a mixture of jest and earnest in the
expression of his countenance, that you throw him "a copper" for the fun
of the thing, believing full that he never expected it. No doubt he has
a way of his own of "making up his book;" of taking so many against the
field, that, if a thousand pass him in a given number of minutes, he
can make sure of winning, so far as the odds of 999 go to one. Beside
these chances he has his regular patrons, gentlemen who, when they have
no halfpence, recognise him by a nod, as if to say, "All right; I have
not forgotten; next time;" which calls forth a bow as low as the upper
rim of his stump. Then he has another appeal, which is irresistible, and
that is, the instant he sees a benevolent-looking gentleman
approaching, of commencing sweeping all the way before him, with short,
quick, rapid strokes, always contriving to keep about a yard ahead; and,
having finished, he makes his politest bend, as much as to say, "Can
you resist that?" Should the gentleman put his hand in his pocket and
only pull out his handkerchief, the Crossing-Sweeper is, of course,
greatly disappointed. Then there are a class of well-dressed "Gents," to
whom he never deigns to take off his hat. He knows them well - they
pick out the cleanest spots, but never pay. Should any remark by made
about them by the neighbouring waterman, he either sticks out his thumb,
or placing his hand aside his mouth, gives spiteful utterance to the
word "Snobs!" He hates to see the road mended: a load of granite is to
him, for a few days, absolute ruin; he cannot sweep it, it is so loose;
and no one will walk over it who can find another path. All he can do is
to fit the stones together as soon as he can; and they require a good
deal of coaxing to make them lie lovingly together. A dry, fine day is
another matter - he is at his post if wanted - if it does not rain it is
no fault of his. But he likes wet weather uncommonly, for he seems to
have a claim upon us then. For our part, when we are short of halfpence,
we often tramp bolding through the unswept mud at such a season; and ,
as old Pepys would have said "this puzzles him mightily."
After all, we fear a great many of the Crossing-Sweepers are sad impostors; we always suspect those who either wear old soldiers' jackets, or plant themselves on Sunday facing the entrances of chapels. The latter, if interrogated, have mostly got old mothers laid up with typhus fever, or wives who have not been out of bed for no end of days: the one prays upon the lovers of peace, the other sticks close to practical piety; for who, after a good sermon on charity, can keep their hands out of their pockets? Your church or chapel Crossing-Sweeper has endless, short pithy prayers cut and dried, which seem admirably to suit all his customers; then he is so kind to poor old women and little children, handing them across gratis, and sending them home with no end of blessings, wishing within himself all the while (when the neighbouring public-house is open) that the clergyman would have a little consideration and cut his sermon shorter; for your bearer of the broom is always a thirsty subject. Still they are amongst the least of all necessary evils. They call a studious man suddenly to himself; and we know not how many times during the course of our lives we might have been run over but for the momentary pause, while we searched for the wandering halfpenny. They are life-preservers on a small scale, and touch you as gently as if they loved you, when they see danger near; especially if you are fishing for the needful. Then there is something in that bending of the body, and raising of the eyes, and looking up, as it were, underneath you, which seems to say "Mistake me not, I am but a deity of dirt - a monarch who rules over mud - a sovereign of soles and upper-leather; and although this is my daily walk and ancient neighbourhood, yet I levy not taxes when my subjects are unwilling to pay." They are also influential men in their way: let them once carry a crossing ashant (at an angle of forty-five), and woe be to the shopkeeper whose door they have shunned - respectable customers seldom walk wilfully into the mud. We know a fishmonger who was ruined through refusing to pay a Crossing-Sweeper. The broom-bearer carried his line ashant, into an opposition shop, and, as he said, "swept him clean out." Cheap omnibuses and an improved sewerage will eventually make it bad for the Street-Sweepers. Southwood Smith will come upon them like the "sweet south" breathing, &c., &c., and then London will lose another of its old picturesque characters, and the Crossing-Sweeper be numbered amongst the link-boys, whom the gas extinguished "with excessive light." We shall then have no one to look to our steps or rescue us from the jaws of Sanitary Sewers : the Corporation of London will give in, and the old prophecy be fulfilled, which foretold that the day would come when "A peck of dirt would be worth a King's ransom."
After all, we fear a great many of the Crossing-Sweepers are sad impostors; we always suspect those who either wear old soldiers' jackets, or plant themselves on Sunday facing the entrances of chapels. The latter, if interrogated, have mostly got old mothers laid up with typhus fever, or wives who have not been out of bed for no end of days: the one prays upon the lovers of peace, the other sticks close to practical piety; for who, after a good sermon on charity, can keep their hands out of their pockets? Your church or chapel Crossing-Sweeper has endless, short pithy prayers cut and dried, which seem admirably to suit all his customers; then he is so kind to poor old women and little children, handing them across gratis, and sending them home with no end of blessings, wishing within himself all the while (when the neighbouring public-house is open) that the clergyman would have a little consideration and cut his sermon shorter; for your bearer of the broom is always a thirsty subject. Still they are amongst the least of all necessary evils. They call a studious man suddenly to himself; and we know not how many times during the course of our lives we might have been run over but for the momentary pause, while we searched for the wandering halfpenny. They are life-preservers on a small scale, and touch you as gently as if they loved you, when they see danger near; especially if you are fishing for the needful. Then there is something in that bending of the body, and raising of the eyes, and looking up, as it were, underneath you, which seems to say "Mistake me not, I am but a deity of dirt - a monarch who rules over mud - a sovereign of soles and upper-leather; and although this is my daily walk and ancient neighbourhood, yet I levy not taxes when my subjects are unwilling to pay." They are also influential men in their way: let them once carry a crossing ashant (at an angle of forty-five), and woe be to the shopkeeper whose door they have shunned - respectable customers seldom walk wilfully into the mud. We know a fishmonger who was ruined through refusing to pay a Crossing-Sweeper. The broom-bearer carried his line ashant, into an opposition shop, and, as he said, "swept him clean out." Cheap omnibuses and an improved sewerage will eventually make it bad for the Street-Sweepers. Southwood Smith will come upon them like the "sweet south" breathing, &c., &c., and then London will lose another of its old picturesque characters, and the Crossing-Sweeper be numbered amongst the link-boys, whom the gas extinguished "with excessive light." We shall then have no one to look to our steps or rescue us from the jaws of Sanitary Sewers : the Corporation of London will give in, and the old prophecy be fulfilled, which foretold that the day would come when "A peck of dirt would be worth a King's ransom."
Illustrated London News, June 17, 1848
關於城市特徵肯尼制定多斯No.II - 的隧道，掃地機提供Thomas Miller該過境，清掃車不能公平地被歸類在我們睜眼乞丐，因為他真的做了他的生活，雖然這一點，並有正當看看他的掃帚樹樁更可敬的在我們的眼中，比拙劣的盲目，一箱lucifers。他也不是，一般來說，一個非常頑強請求者;事實上，經常有這樣一個笑話混合物，認真表達在他臉上，你扔給他“一銅”為樂趣的事情，他相信全沒有想到它。毫無疑問，他有他自己的方式“製造了他的書，”採取這麼多的反對領域，即，如果他在1000通過一個給定的分鐘數，他可以確保打贏，只要在賠率 999到1。除了這些機會，他有他的常客，先生們誰，當他們沒有便士，承認他在點頭，好像在說，“好吧，我沒有忘記，下一次，”這就要求提出了鞠躬低至上部邊緣，他殘端。然後，他再次呼籲，這是不可抗拒的，那就是，他看到的瞬間有一個寬大的前瞻性紳士臨近，開始席捲了所有在他面前的道路，短，快，快招，詭計始終保持領先一碼，並因成品，他使他的彬彬有禮彎曲，盡可能地說，“你能抗拒嗎？”如果那位先生把他的手在他的口袋裡，只有拿出他的手帕，在隧道，清掃車，當然，非常失望。然後還有一類穿著得體“男裝，”他們從不屈尊脫下帽子。他知道得很好 - 他們挑選出最乾淨的地方，但從來沒有支付。如有任何言論對他們作出的鄰國沃特曼，他也伸出大拇指，或將他的手放下他的嘴，讓兇惡的話語“一詞勢利！”他不願看到的道路修補：負載的花崗岩，是他幾天，絕對的絕路，他不能把這個基礎，就這樣鬆散，沒有人會走到這誰能夠找到另一條道路。所有他能做的就是配合在一起的石頭，一旦他可以，而且需要大量的哄騙，使他們躺在一起深情。阿幹，美好的日子，則是另一回事 - 他是在他的職位，如果想 - 如果不下雨，這是他沒有過失。但他很喜歡潮濕的天氣異常，因為他似乎有聲請我們來。就我們而言，當我們缺乏便士，我們經常不定期加粗未波及泥通過在這樣一個季節，以及老佩皮斯會說：“他這個難題的境地。”畢竟，我們擔心很多的隧道，掃墓人士悲傷騙子，我們總是懷疑那些誰也穿老兵外衣，或植物本身面臨著週日的教堂入口處。後者，如果審訊，大多已奠定了老母親與斑疹傷寒，或妻子誰沒有下床無底的天：一個禮拜後，和平的愛好者，其他堅持貼近實際虔誠;為誰後，一個很好的布道的慈善機構，可以保持雙手從他們的口袋？你的教堂或禮拜堂隧道型清掃有無限的，短期簡練祈禱直截了當，這似乎令人欽佩，以適應他的所有客戶，然後，他是如此可憐的實物婦女和小孩，他們在無償移交，並派他們家沒有年底的祝福，希望在自己所有，而（在鄰近公共內部開放）的牧師將有很少考慮，減少他的布道短，你承載的掃帚總是渴的主題。不過他們當中最少的一切必要的罪惡。他們所謂的勤奮好學的男子突然對自己和我們不知道有多少次在這一過程中，我們的生活，我們可能已輾過但為短暫的停頓，我們搜查，流浪便士。它們是生命守護小規模，以及觸摸你的溫柔的，如果他們愛你，當他們看到危險接近，特別是如果您的捕撈必須要做的事。然後還有一些事情是彎曲的身體，提高了眼睛，抬起頭來，因為這個，你下，這似乎是說“我沒有錯誤，我只是一個神的泥土 - 君主的規則對誰泥 - 一個主權上的鞋底和皮革，雖然這是我每天步行和古老的街區，但我不徵收稅款時，我的科目不願意支付。“他們也有影響的人物，在他們的方式：讓他們一次攜帶過境 ashant（在1角45），和疾苦是店主的門，他們已經避開 - 尊敬的客戶很少步行故意到泥土。我們知道誰是破壞魚販通過拒絕支付隧道，清掃車。掃帚，承載他的路線進行 ashant，成為反對派店，正如他所說，“掃乾淨了他。”廉價的馬車和改進的污水將最終使糟糕的掃大街。索思伍德史密斯後，他們會像“南甜”呼吸，與角，與角，然後倫敦將又一次失去其原有的風景如畫的字符，隧道，清掃車的編號之間的聯繫，男孩，其中的氣體熄滅“過量的光。“然後，我們有沒有人看我們的步驟或拯救我們從頜骨衛生下水道：倫敦地鐵公司將在和老預言得到履行，這預言有一天會到來“阿啄污垢會值得一國王的贖金。“倫敦新聞畫報，1848年6月17日
supplicant=suppliant[sup・pli・ant]
- 発音記号[sʌ'pliənt]
[名]((文))哀願者.
━━[形]〈人が〉哀願する；〈人・動作などが〉哀願するような.
sup・pli・ant・ly
[副]
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