
They were the true journalists, parked out on the streets in any weather, always wearing the same ‘plumage’ of the gaberdine mac and flat hat. Their call was unintelligible to most, but generally horse racing-related, with an ability to keep a small Wild Woodbine stuck and still alight throughout their shouted calls.
Unlikly to be seen at all these days.

There was an old chap called Robbie who used to sell the Echo