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CRIME AND COFFEE
STALL.
MIDNIGHT HAUNTS OF ALL
CLASSES.
The coffee-stall proprietor would be glad
if they would (writes "a Coffee-stall
Keeper," in a London weekly). He has
to serve all comers, and cannot pick and
choose his customers. _ It would be extremely
beneficial to legitimate business if
the police would keep an eye on the men
and women who stop for refreshment at
intervals through the night.
The rough element, if it becomes pronounced,
can ruin a coffee stall. A Stall
in the Lambeth district was taking between
£30 and £40' a week until three
months ago. Then it suddenly became
fashionable with a gang of 15 to 20 youths,
who converted it into a kind of midnight
clnb. They spent very little money, but
the noise they made kept away other and
more profitable customers. The takings,
as a result, have fallen to less than £15 a
Unwelcome Boughs.
Some proprietors are more skilled than
others in getting together good-class
clientele. A cheery manner and a gift
for repartee are almost essentia] ingredients
in the successful coffee-stall proprietor's
make-up. He can often keep away men
and women he does not like by serving
them in silence and refusing to joke with
them, While obviously treating other CUB
tomers with greater consideration.
For the "roughs" not only bfll the business,
they often cost money. They steal
cups and saucers—one proprietor always
reckons to lost half a dozen cups on Saturday
night—and a favourite pastime is the
breaking of spoons. Under the counter
on my stall I now have a box of nearly
two dozen spoons which have been snapped
in half by midnight "humorists."
Three - Sets of Customers.
A coffee stall really has three sets of
customers. The first patronises it between
9 p.m. and midnight. These people are
men and women living in the neighbourhood,
who, after a visit to the pictures or
the weekly shopping expedition, stop at
the stall on their way home for a cup of
coffee and, perhaps, ,a hot "saveloy" be:
fore going to bed. The stall saves them
the trouble of boiling a kettle a,t. home.
From midnight until about 2 a.m. the
customers are principally the young, gene-
: rally good-hearted—a few late worker^, aud
the homeless who are drawn to the stall
hy the brightness of its lights. These
Iast
unhappy creatures often have no
jnoney, but hoj>e that some one will be
found to "stand" them a coffee or cup of
Oxo.
It is at this hour that the housebreaker
or burglar is to be found—if at all—at the
stall. Two or three men can discuss their
plans bellied the Etall without being overheard,
and without arousing suspicion as
they would do by a conference at a street
corner.
From 3 a.m. Onwards.
From 2 a.m. until 3 is a dead hour. Many
proprietors shut down their window during
this time, and snatch an hour's sleep
on the boards beneath the counter.
From 3 o'clock onwards the early
workers require attention, stopping for an
ounce of shag or a cup of tea on their way
to work.
The police are fully aware that the
coffee fetalis afford a convenient meeting
place for night marauders. Bi^t they are
not altogether averse to the stalls being
used in this way. They know where to
find a man when they want him.
I
Helping the Police,
I g la]] proprietors and managers arc on
j cordial terms with the police, and have
_ often been of assistauce in tracking down
"wanted" men who otherwise might have
escaped arrest. Only recently in an East-
End district, the police were able to lav
their hands on a man wh® was suspected
of having a share in a Mayfair burglary,
thanks to a hint given them by a coffee
stall manager. Burglaries may occasionally
be hatched at coffee stalls, but the police
argue that they would certainly be hatched
somewhere else if the stall was not open.
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