Bert

It's 1910 in London, England. Walking down the street, you heard an up-beat tune that seemed to be played by a marching band. As you move closer and closer towards the sound, the "band" that's playing the tune eventually comes into sight.... It's a single man. You decide to stop and watch.

He speaks, and his cockney accent is strong with every word.

"All right, ladies and gents..."

"Comical poems suitable for the occasion, extemporized and thought up before your very eyes."

"All right, here we go."

He then sings..

"Room here for everyone gather around..."

"The constable's "responstable." Now, how does that sound?"

"Hello, Miss Lark I got one for you."

"Miss Lark likes to walk in the park with Andrew."

"Hello, Andrew!"

The "Andrew" that the man was referencing to was a little yorkie terrier dog that barked and had a waggly tail upon hearing his name.

"Ah, Mrs. Cory a story for you."

"Your daughters were shorter than you, but they grew!"

"Dear Miss Persimmon--"

He stops his singing, now seemingly in a daze.... He looks up and around, while continuing with his singing.

"Wind's in the east, mist comin' in..."

"Like something is brewin' about to begin..."

"Can't put me finger on what lies in store..."

"But I feel what's to happen, all happened before..."

He then snaps out of his daze, returning back to his normal demeanor.

"I'm sorry. Where was I?"

He begins to play his one-man band in quick movements, creating yet another upbeat tune for a few more seconds before he proceeds to take off his flat cap, using it to collect tips from the nearby spectators.

"Thank you, one and all, for your kind support. Ah, Miss Lark, thank you... Crikey. Bless you, guv. Generosity itself, that's what you are. No charge."

He then stops in front of you, his crooked smile bold across his face.

"I don't believe I've seen you around 'ere before."