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diff --git a/40881-8.txt b/40881-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 9327002..0000000 --- a/40881-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,4201 +0,0 @@ -Project Gutenberg's Workhouse Characters, by Margaret Wynne Nevinson - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: Workhouse Characters - and other sketches of the life of the poor. - -Author: Margaret Wynne Nevinson - -Release Date: September 28, 2012 [EBook #40881] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WORKHOUSE CHARACTERS *** - - - - -Produced by sp1nd, Martin Pettit and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - - - - - - -WORKHOUSE CHARACTERS - -[Illustration: Logo] - - - - -_BY THE SAME AUTHOR_ - -IN THE WORKHOUSE - -A PLAY IN ONE ACT - -The International Suffrage Shop, John St., Strand, W.C.2 (6d.) - - -Press Notices - -"Dull talk none the less offensive because it may have been -life-like."--_Daily Mail._ - -"The piece though mere talk is strong talk."--_Morning Advertiser._ - -"The play is clean and cold and humorous. The main value of the piece is -that it is a superb genre picture. One or two of the flashes from this -strange, generally unknown world are positive sparks of -life."--_Sheffield Daily Telegraph._ - -"I found it interesting and convincing; but then I am prepared to -believe that our laws always will be rotten till lawyers are -disqualified from sitting in Parliament."--_Reynolds'._ - -"The masculine portion of the audience walked with heads abashed in the -_entr'acte_; such things had been said upon the stage that they were -suffused with blushes."--_Standard._ - -"Delicate matters were discussed with much knowledge and some -tact."--_Morning Post._ - -"'In the Workhouse' reminds us forcibly of certain works of M. Brieux, -which plead for reform by painting a terrible, and perhaps overcharged, -picture of things as they are.... The presence of the idiot girl helps -to point another moral in Mrs. Nevinson's arraignment, and is therefore -artistically justifiable; and the more terrible it appears the better -have the author and the actress done their work.... Such is the power of -the dramatic pamphlet, sincerely written and sincerely acted. There is -nothing to approach it in directness and force. It sweeps all mere -prettiness into oblivion."--_Pall Mall Gazette._ - -"It is one of the strongest indictments of our antiquated laws relating -to married women. A man seated behind the present writer called the play -immoral! and as Mrs. Nevinson says in her preface to the published -edition, the only apology she makes for its realism is that it is -true."--_Christian Commonwealth._ - -"The whole thing left an unpleasant taste."--_Academy._ - - -NOTE.--Two years after this piece was given by the _Pioneer Players_ the -law was altered. - - - - -WORKHOUSE CHARACTERS - -AND OTHER SKETCHES OF THE LIFE OF THE POOR - -BY - -MARGARET WYNNE NEVINSON - -L.L.A. - - - The depth and dream of my desire, - The bitter paths wherein I stray. - Thou knowest Who hast made the Fire, - Thou knowest Who hast made the Clay. - - One stone the more swings to her place - In that dread Temple of Thy Worth-- - It is enough that through Thy grace - I saw naught common on Thy earth. - - RUDYARD KIPLING. - - -LONDON: GEORGE ALLEN & UNWIN LTD. RUSKIN HOUSE 40 MUSEUM STREET, W.C.1 - - - Almost the whole of these sketches have appeared in the - _Westminster Gazette_; the last two were published in the _Daily - News_, and "Widows Indeed" and "The Runaway" in the _Herald_. It is - by the courtesy of the Editors of the above papers that they are - reproduced in book form. - - _First published in 1918_ - - _(All rights reserved.)_ - - -TO MY SON - -C. R. W. NEVINSON - - - - -PREFACE - - -These sketches have been published in various papers during the last -thirteen years. Many of the characters are life portraits, and the wit -and wisdom of the common people have been faithfully recorded in a true -Boswellian spirit; others are _Wahrheit und Dichtung_ (if one may still -quote Goethe), but all have been suggested by actual fact and -experience. - -During the last ten years great reforms have been taking place in the -country. In 1908 the Old Age Pensions Act came into force, and the -weekly miracle of 5s. a week (now 7s. 6d.) changed the world for the -aged, giving them the liberty and independence, which ought to be the -right of every decent citizen in the evening of life. - -The order by which a pauper husband had the right to detain his wife in -the workhouse by "his marital authority" is now repealed. A case some -years ago of this abominable breach of the law of Habeas Corpus startled -the country, especially the ratepayers, and even the House of Commons -were amazed at their own laws. The order was withdrawn in 1913 on the -precedent of the judgment given in the case of the Queen _v._ Jackson -(1891), when it was decided "that the husband has no right, where his -wife refuses to live with him, to take her person by force and restrain -her of her liberty" (60 L. J. Q. B. 346). - -Many humane reforms and regulations for the classification of inmates -were made in 1913, and the obnoxious words "pauper" and "workhouse" have -been abolished; but before the authorities rightly grasped the changes -the war was upon us, the workhouses were commandeered as military -hospitals, the inmates sent into other institutions, and all reforms -lapsed in overcrowded and understaffed buildings. - -Once again the Poor Law is in the melting-pot, and it seems as if now it -will pass into the limbo of the past with other old, unhappy far-off -things. - - - - -CONTENTS - - PAGE -EUNICE SMITH--DRUNK 13 - -DETAINED BY MARITAL AUTHORITY 21 - -A WELSH SAILOR 27 - -THE VOW 33 - -BLIND AND DEAF 39 - -"AND, BEHOLD, THE BABE WEPT" 47 - -"MARY, MARY, PITY WOMEN!" 53 - -THE SUICIDE 61 - -PUBLICANS AND HARLOTS 68 - -OLD INKY 75 - -A DAUGHTER OF THE STATE 80 - -IN THE PHTHISIS WARD 85 - -AN IRISH CATHOLIC 91 - -AN OBSCURE CONVERSATIONIST 97 - -MOTHERS 104 - -"YOUR SON'S YOUR SON" 110 - -"TOO OLD AT FORTY" 115 - -IN THE LUNATIC ASYLUM 118 - -THE SWEEP'S LEGACY 126 - -AN ALIEN 130 - -"WIDOWS INDEED!" 134 - -THE RUNAWAY 138 - -"A GIRL! GOD HELP HER!" 145 - -ON THE PERMANENT LIST 148 - -THE PAUPER AND THE OLD-AGE PENSION 153 - -THE EVACUATION OF THE WORKHOUSE 157 - - - - -WORKHOUSE CHARACTERS - - - - -EUNICE SMITH--DRUNK - - The Ball no question makes of Ayes and Noes, - But Here and There as strikes the Player goes; - And He that toss'd you down into the Field, - _He_ knows about it all--He knows--_He_ knows. - - -"Eunice Smith, drunk, brought by the police." - -The quaint Scriptural name, not heard for years, woke me up from the -dull apathy to which even the most energetic Guardian is reduced at the -end of a long Board meeting, and I listened intently as the Master of -the workhouse went on to explain that the name Smith had been given by -the woman, but her clothes and a small book, which the doctor said was -Homer, in Greek, were marked Eunice Romaine. - -Eunice Romaine--the name took me back down long vistas of years to a -convent school at Oxford, to the clanging bells of Tom Tower, to the -vibrant note of boys' voices in college chapels, to the scent of flowers -and incense at early celebrations, to the high devotions and ideals of -youth, to its passionate griefs and joys. Eunice Romaine had been the -genius of our school--one of those gifted students in whom knowledge -seems innate; her name headed every examination list, and every prize in -the form fell to her; other poor plodders had no chance where she was. -From school she had gone with many a scholarship and exhibition to -Cambridge, where she had taken a high place in the Classical Tripos; -later I heard she had gone as Classical Mistress to one of the London -High Schools, then our paths had separated, and I heard no more. - -I went down to the Observation Ward after the meeting, where between a -maniacal case lying in a strait-waistcoat, alternately singing hymns and -blaspheming, and a tearful melancholic who begged me to dig up her -husband's body in the north-east corner of the garden, I saw my old -friend and classmate. - -She was lying very quiet with closed eyes; her hair had gone grey before -her time, and her face was pinched and scored with the deep -perpendicular lines of grief and disappointment; but I recognized the -school-girl Eunice by the broad, intellectual brow and by the delicate, -high-bred hands. - -"She is rather better," said the nurse in answer to my question, "but -she has had a very bad night, screaming the whole time at the rats and -mice she thought she saw, and the doctor fears collapse, as her heart is -weak; but if she can get some sleep she may recover." - -Sleep in the crowded Mental Ward, with maniacs shrieking and shouting -around! But exhausted Nature can do a great deal, and when I called some -days later I found my old friend discharged to the General Sick Ward, a -placard above her head setting forth her complaint as "chronic -alcoholism, cirrhosis of the liver, and cardiac disease." - -She recognized me at once, but with the apathy of weakness she expressed -neither surprise nor interest at our meeting, and only after some weeks -had passed I found her one evening brighter and better, and anxious to -go out. Over an impromptu banquet of grapes and cakes we fell into one -of those intimate conversations that come so spontaneously but are so -impossible to force, and I heard the short history of a soul's tragedy. - -"Just after I left Cambridge mother died. She told me on her death-bed -that I had the taint of drink in the blood, and urged me never to touch -alcohol. My father--a brilliant scholar and successful journalist--had -killed himself with drink whilst we were all quite young; mother had -kept us all away at school, so that we should not know, and had borne -her burden alone. I promised light-heartedly; I was young and strong, -and had not known temptation. After mother died I was very lonely: both -my brothers had gone to Canada. My father's classical and literary -abilities had come only to me: their talents were purely mechanical and -they had never been able to acquire book knowledge. I was not very happy -teaching. Classics had come to me so easily--hereditary question -again--that I never could understand the difficulties of the average -girl, and I had very little patience with dullness and stupidity. -However, very soon I became engaged to be married, and lived for some -time in a fool's paradise of love and joy. My _fiancé_ was a literary -man--I will not tell you his name, as he is one of those who have -arrived--but it is difficult to start, and we waited about two years -before he got an appointment sufficiently secure to make marriage -possible. I was very busy; we had taken a flat, and I was engaged in -choosing furniture and preparing my humble trousseau. I had given notice -at the school, and the wedding-day was within a fortnight, when one -morning I got a letter from my _fiancé_, couched in wild, allegorical -language, bemoaning his unworthiness, but asking me to release him from -his engagement, as he found his love for me had been a mirage now that -he had come across his twin-soul. I read the letter over and over again, -hardly grasping the meaning, when there fell from the envelope a little -newspaper cutting that I had overlooked--it was the announcement of his -marriage three days before to his twin-soul. - -"Still I was unable to realize what had happened. I kept saying over and -over to myself, 'Charlie is married,' but in my heart I did not believe -it. That afternoon the head-mistress came to see me; she was very kind, -and took me herself to a brain specialist, who said I had had a nervous -shock, that I ought to have a rest, and mountain air would be best for -me. The council of my school agreed to take me back again, and allow me -a term's holiday on full pay. One of my colleagues (it was holiday-time) -came with me to Switzerland, and there, amid the ice and snow of the -high latitudes, the full understanding of what had come to me dawned -upon my mind, and I realized the pangs of despised love, of jealousy, -and hate. A _Nachschein_ of Christianity suddenly made me rush back to -England in terror of what might happen; it is easy to commit suicide in -Switzerland, and a certain black precipice near the hotel drew me ever -towards it with baleful fascination. Some one dragged me again to Harley -Street, and this time the great specialist advised sea air and cheerful -society. The latter prescription is not available for lonely and jilted -high-school mistresses in London, but I tried sea air, and it did me -good. I don't think for a moment that the doctor realized that I was -practically off my head; the terribly obsession of love and jealousy had -me in its grip. It had taken me some time to fall in love, and I could -not fall out again to order, whilst the knowledge that the man who had -broken his promise to me now belonged to another woman was driving me to -madness. One day I went down to bathe, and suddenly determined to end my -woe. I swam out far to sea--so far that I judged it beyond my force ever -to get back; but though my will commanded my limbs to cease their work -they refused to obey. I was always a very strong swimmer, and I landed -again more humiliated than ever: I had not even the pluck to end my -sorrows. - -"After that I went back to work; mountains and sea had no message for -me. I was better sitting at my desk in the class-room, trying to drill -Latin and Greek into the unresponsive brains of girls. - -"I got through the days, but the nights were terrible; all the great -army of forsaken lovers know that the nights are the worst. I used to -lie awake hour after hour, sobbing and crying for mercy and strength to -endure, and I used to batter my head against the floor, not knowing any -one could hear. One night a fellow-lodger, who slept in the next room, -came in and begged me to be quiet; she had her work to do, and night -after night I kept her awake with my sobbing. 'I suppose it is all about -some wretched man,' she observed coolly; 'but, believe me, they are not -worth the love we give them. I left my husband some years ago, finding -that he had been carrying on with a woman who called herself my friend. -At first I cried and sobbed just as you do now; but I felt such a fool -making such a fuss about a man who had played it down so low, that I -made up my mind I would forget him; and in time you will get over this, -and give thanks that you have been delivered from a liar and a traitor.' - -"She gave me a glass of strong brandy and water; it was the first I had -ever tasted, and I remember how it ran warm through my veins, and how I -slept as I had not slept for months. - -"My fellow-lodger and I became great friends; she was quite an -uneducated woman, the matron of a laundry, but she braced me up like a -tonic with her keen humour and experience of life. - -"How strange it seems for a middle-aged drunkard in a pauper infirmary -to be telling this ancient love-tale, and posing as one of 'the -aristocracy of passionate souls,' But _tout passe tout casse_, and after -years of anguish and strife I woke up one bright spring morning and felt -that I was cured and for ever free of the wild passion of love. That day -always stands out as the happiest of my life. I shall never forget it. -It was Saturday, and a holiday; and I got on my bicycle and rode off for -miles far into the country singing the _Benedicite_ for pure joy. I -lunched at a little inn on the Thames, and ordered some champagne to -celebrate the recovery of my liberty. - -"But by strange irony of fate the very day I escaped from the toils of -love I fell under another tyranny--that of alcohol. Now, Peg"--I started -at the unfamiliar old nickname of my school days--"I believe you are -crying. Having shed more than my own share of tears, nothing irritates -me so much as to see other women cry, and if you don't stop I'll not say -another word." - -I drew my handkerchief across my eyes and admitted to a cold in the -head. - -"Shortly afterward I received notice to leave the High School. I did not -mind--I always hated teaching, and I found that I had the power of -writing; an article that I could flash off in a few hours would keep me -for a week, and I could create my own paradise for half a crown--now, -Peg, you are crying again. But of late life was not so bad. I enjoyed -writing, and shall always be thankful I can read Greek; besides, I was -not always drunk; the craving only takes me occasionally, and at its -worst alcohol is a kinder master than love. I shall be well enough to go -out in a few days; bring me some pens and paper, and my editor will -advance me some money. I am going to write an article on workhouse -infirmaries that will startle the public. What do you know of -workhouses? You are only a Guardian; 'tis we musicians (or rather -inmates) who know." - -The article never got written. The next day I found Eunice very ill; she -was unconscious and delirious till her death, reeling off sonorous -hexameters from Homer and Virgil and stately passages from the Greek -tragedians. - -We spared her a pauper funeral, and a few old school and college friends -gathered round the grave. A white-haired professor of world fame was -there also, and he shook hands with us as we parted at the cemetery -gates. "Poor Eunice!" he said, his aged face working painfully. "One of -the best Greek scholars of the day, and the daughter of my oldest -friend. Both of them geniuses, and both of them with the same taint in -the blood; but I feel I ought not to have let her come to this." - -I think we all felt the same as we walked sadly home. - - - - -DETAINED BY MARITAL AUTHORITY - - (By the law of England the mothers of illegitimate children are - often in a better position than their married sisters.) - - -An unusual sense of expectancy pervaded the young women's ward; Mrs. -Cleaver had gone down "to appear before the Committee," and though the -ways of committees are slow, and pauper-time worthless, it was felt that -her ordeal was being unduly protracted. - -"She's having a dose, she is," said a young woman walking up and down, -futilely patting the back of a shrieking infant. "I 'ate appearing afore -them committees; last time I was down I called the lady 'Sir' and the -gentleman 'Mum,' and my 'eart went pitter-patter in my breast so that -you might have knocked me down with a feather. 'Ere she is--well, my -dear, and you do look bad----" - -"Them committees allus turn me dead sick, and, being a stout woman, my -boots feel too tight for me, and I goes into a perspiration, and the -great drops go rolling off my forehead. Well, 'e's kept 'is word, and -got the law and right of England behind 'im." - -What reporters call a "sensation" made itself felt through the ward; the -inmates gathered closer round Mrs. Cleaver, and screaming infants were -rocked and patted and soothed with much vigour and little result. - -"Well," said Mrs. Cleaver, sinking on to the end of a bed, "I went afore -the Committee and I says, 'I want to take my discharge,' I says; I -applied last week to the Master, but mine got at 'im first, and Master -up and says-- - -"'No, Mrs. Cleaver, you can't go,' he says; 'your 'usband can't spare -you,' he says, 'wants you to keep 'im company in 'ere,' he says. - -"'Is that true, Master?' says the little man wot sits lost in the big -chair. - -"'That is so, sir,' says Master, and then 'e outs with a big book and -reads something very learned and brain-confusing that I did not rightly -understand, as to how a 'usband may detain his wife in the workhouse by -his marital authority. - -"'Good 'eavens!' says the little lady Guardian 'er wot's dressed so -shabby. 'Is that the law of England?' - -"Then they all began talking at once most excited, and the little man in -the big chair beat like a madman on the table with a 'ammer, and no one -took the slightest notice, but when some quiet was restored the little -man asked me to tell the Board the circumstances. So I says 'ow he lost -his work through being drunk on duty, which was the lying tongue of the -perlice, for 'is 'ed was clear, the drink allus taking him in the legs, -like most cabmen, and the old 'oss keeps sober. It was a thick fog, and -he'd just got off the box to lead the 'oss through the gates of the -mews, and the perliceman spotted 'is legs walking out in contrary -directions, though 'is 'ed was clear as daylight, and so the perlice ran -'im in and the beak took his licence from 'im, and 'ere we are. - -"Now I've got over my confinement, and the child safe in 'eaven, after -all the worrit and starvation, I thought I'd like to go out and earn my -own living--I'm a dressmaker by trade, and my sister will give me a -'ome; I 'ate being 'ere--living on the rates, and 'e not having done -better for us than this Bastille--though I allus says as it was the -lying tongue of a perliceman--it seems fair I should go free. The lady -wot comes round Sundays told me I ain't got no responsibility for my -children being a married lady with the lines. Then the little man flew -out most violent: 'Don't talk like that, my good woman; of course you -have responsibility to your children; you must not believe what ignorant -people tell you.' - -"Then I heard the tall, ginger-haired chap wot sits next to the little -man--'im as you unmarried girls go before to try and father your -children--I 'eard 'im say quite distinct: 'The woman is right, sir; -married women are not responsible for their children, but I believe the -husband is within his rights in refusing to allow her to leave the -workhouse without him.' - -"Then they asked me to retire, and the Master told me to come back -'ere, and I should know the result later. Oh, Lord! I'm that 'ot and -upset with the worry of it all, I feel I'll never cool again," and Mrs. -Cleaver wiped her brow and fanned herself with her apron. - -"Single life has its advantages," said a tall, handsome woman, who was -nursing a baby by the window. "You with the lines ain't been as perlite -as might be to us who ain't got 'em, but we 'as the laugh over you -really. I'm taking my discharge to-morrow morning, and not one of 'em -dare say me nay; I needn't appear afore Boards and be worried and upset -with 'usbands and Guardians and things afore I can take myself off the -parish and eat my bread independent." - -"But why weren't you married, Pennyloaf? Not for want of asking, I'll be -bound." - -"No, it warn't for want of asking; fact is, I was put off marriage at a -very early age. I 'ad a drunken beast of a father as spent his time -a-drinking by day and a-beating mother by night--one night he overdid it -and killed 'er; he got imprisonment for life, and we was put away in the -workhouse schools; it would have been kinder of the parish to put us in -the lethal chamber, as they do to cats and dogs as ain't wanted. But we -grew up somehow, knowing as we weren't wanted, and then the parish found -me a situation, under-housemaid in a big house; and then I found as the -young master wanted me, the first time as any human soul had taken any -interest in me, and, oh, Lord! I laughs now when I think what a 'appy -time it was. Since then I've had four children, and I have twenty-five -shillings a week coming in regular besides what I can make at the -cooking. I lives clean and respectable--no drinking, no bad language; my -children never see nor hear what I saw and heard, and they are -mine--mine--mine. I always comes into the House for confinement, liking -quiet and skilled medical attendance. I never gets refused--the law -daren't refuse such as me. I always leaves the coming in till the last -moment; then there are no awkward questions, and when they begin to -inquire as to settlement, I'm off. All the women in our street are -expecting next week, their husbands all out of work, and not a pair of -sheets or the price of a pint of milk between them, all lying in one -room, too, with children and husbands about, as I don't consider decent, -but having the lines, it's precious hard for them to get in here, and -half of them daren't come for fear he and some one else will sell up the -'ome whilst they're away. You remember Mrs. Hall, who died here last -week? Well, she told me that her husband swore at her so fearful for -having twins that the doctor sent her in here out of his way, and what -with all the upset and the starvation whilst she was carrying the -children, she took fever and snuffed out like a candle. No, the -neighbours don't know as I'm a bad woman; I generally moves before a -confinement, and I 'as a 'usband on the 'igh seas. - -"Well, I'm going back to-morrow to my neat little home, that my -lady-help has been minding for me, to my dear children and to my regular -income, and I don't say as I envies you married ladies your rings or -your slavery." - - - - -A WELSH SAILOR - - I will go back to the great sweet mother, - Mother and lover of men, the sea. - - -The Master of the Casual Ward rattled his keys pompously in the lock of -the high workhouse gates, and the shivering tramps entered the yard, a -battered and footsore procession of this world's failures, the outcast -and down-trodden in the fierce struggle for existence. Some of them were -young and strong, some old and feeble, all wan and white with hunger and -the chill of the November fog which wrapped like a wet blanket round -their ill-clothed bodies. Amongst them was an old man with ear-rings, -and thick, curly white hair, with broad shoulders and rolling gait, and -as he passed I seemed to feel the salt wind of the sea blowing in my -face, and the plunge of the good ship in the billows of the bay. One by -one the master shut them up in the dreary little cell where each man is -locked for thirty-six hours on a dietary of porridge, cheese, and bread, -and ten hours' work a day at stone-breaking or fibre-picking. And yet -the men walk in with something approaching relief on their weary faces; -the hot bath will restore circulation; and really to appreciate a bed -one should wander the streets through a winter's night, or "lodge with -Miss Green" as they term sleeping on the heath. - -Half an hour later, as I sat in one of the sick-wards, I felt once again -the salt freshness of the air above the iodoform and carbolic, and lying -on the ambulance I saw the curly white head of the old sailor, his face -blanched under its tan. - -"Fainted in the bath, no food for three days; we get them in sometimes -like that from the Casual Ward. Wait a moment till I put the pillow -straight," said the nurse, as quickly and deftly she raised the hoary -head, which has been called a crown of glory. - -A few weeks later I passed through the ward, and saw the old man still -lying in bed; his sleeves were rolled up, and his nightshirt loose at -the throat, and I saw his arms and chest tattooed gorgeously with ships -and anchors and flags, with hearts and hands and the red dragon of -Wales. - -"He's been very bad," said the nurse; "bronchitis and great -weakness--been starving for weeks, the doctor thinks. Talks English all -right when his temperature is down, but raves to himself in a sort of -double-Dutch no one can understand, though we have French and Germans -and Russians in the ward." - -"Fy Nuw, fy Nuw, paham y'm gadewaist?" cried the old man, and I -recognized the cry from the Cross, "My God, My God, why hast Thou -forsaken Me?" - -"Oh! lady," he exclaimed as I sat down beside him--"oh! lady, get me -out of this. My mates tell me as I'm in the workhouse, and if my old -mother knew it would kill her--it would, indeed. Yes, lady, I follow the -sea--went off with my old dad when I was eight year old; we sailed our -old ship _Pollybach_ for wellnigh forty years; and then she foundered -off Bushy Island Reef, Torres Straits, and we lost nearly all we had. -After that I've sailed with Captain Jones, of the _Highflyer_, as first -mate; but now he's dead I can't get a job nohow. I'm too old, and I've -lost my left hand; some tackle got loose in a storm and fell upon it, -and though the hook is wonderful handy, they won't enter me any more as -an A.B. - -"I'm a skipper of the ancient time--a Chantey-man and a fiddler. I can -navigate, checking the chronometer by lunar observation. I can rig a -ship from rail to truck; I can reef, hand-steer, and set and take in a -top-mast studding sail; and I can show the young fools how to use a -marlin-spike. Yes, indeed! But all this is no good now. - -"I came up to London to find an old shipmate--Hugh Pugh. We sailed -together fifty years ago, but he left the sea when he got married and -started in the milk business in London. We was always good mates, and he -said to me not long ago, down in Wales, that the Lord had prospered him, -and that I was to turn to him in any trouble. So when my skipper died I -remembered me of Hugh Pugh, and slung my bundle to come and find him. -Folks was wonderful kind to me along the road, and I sailed along in -fair weather till I got to London; and then I was fair frightened; -navigation is very difficult along the streets--the craft's too -crowded--and folks were shocking hard and unkind. I cruised about for a -long time, but London's a bigger place than I thought, knowing only the -docks; and David Evans doesn't seem to have got the address quite -ship-shape, and I just drifted and lost faith. Somehow it's harder to -trust the Lord in London than on the high seas. Then the mates tell me I -fainted and was brought into the ship's hospital; and here I've lain, -a-coughing, and a-burning, and a-shivering, with queer tunes a-playing -in my head; couldn't remember the English, they say, and talked only -Welsh; and they thought I was a Dutchman. This morning I felt a sight -better, and though the nurse told me not to get up, I just tried to put -on my clothes and go; but blowed if my legs didn't behave -shocking--rolled to larboard, rolled to starboard, and then pitched me -headlong, so that I thought I'd shivered all my timbers. So I suppose I -must lie at anchor a bit longer; my legs will never stand the homeward -voyage, they're that rotten and barnacled; but I'll never get better -here; what I'm sickening for is the sea--the sight of her, and the smell -of her, and the noise of the waves round the helm; she and me's never -been parted before for more than two days, and I'm as sick for her as a -man for his lass. Oh, dear! oh, dear! If I could only find Hugh -Pugh----" - -I suggested that there was a penny post. "Yes, lady; but, to tell the -truth, I haven't got a stamp, nor yet a penny; and David Evans hasn't -got the address ship-shape. The policeman laughed in my face when I -asked him where Hugh Pugh lived, and said I must get it writ down better -than that for London." Out of his locker he drew a Welsh Testament -containing a piece of tobacco-stained paper, on which was written-- - - - HUGH PUGH, Master Mariner, now Dairyman; - In a big house in a South-Eastern Road, - Off the North-road, out of London, Nor-East by Nor. - - -Fortunately, Hugh Pugh is not a common name--a visit to the library, a -search in the trade directory, and a telephonic communication saved all -further cruising. - -A couple of days later I got a letter from Hugh Pugh-- - - -DEAR MADAM, - -I thank you for your communication with regard to my old friend and -shipmate, Joshua Howell, of whom I had lost sight. I am glad to say I am -in a position to find him some work at once, having given up my London -business to my sons, and taken a house down by the sea. I am in want of -a good waterman to manage a ferryboat over the river and to take charge -of a small yacht, and I know that I can trust old Joshua with one hand -better than most men with two. There is a cottage on the shore where he -can live with his mother; and tell him we shall all be delighted to -welcome an old friend and shipmate. My daughter is coming down here -shortly with her children, and will be very glad for Joshua to travel -with her; she will call and make arrangements for him to go to her house -as soon as he is well enough to be moved. I enclose £5 for clothes or -any immediate expenses, and am sorry that my old friend has been through -such privations. As to any expenses for his keep at the infirmary, I -will hold myself responsible. - -Yours faithfully, - -HUGH PUGH. - -LLANRHYWMAWR, _December 6._ - - -A Welsh letter was enclosed for the old sailor, over which he pored with -tears of joy running down his cheeks. - -A few days later Hugh Pugh's daughter's motor throbbed at the door of -the workhouse, and the old tar rolled round shaking hands vigorously -with the mates: "Good-bye; good-bye, maties; the Lord has brought me out -of the stormy waters, and it's smooth sailing now. He'll do the same for -you, mates, if you trust Him." - -Then the door closed, and the fresh breeze dropped, and it seemed as if -the ward grew dark and grey. - - - - -THE VOW - - Better thou shouldest not vow than thou shouldest vow and not pay. - - -The heavy machines in the steam-laundry clanked and groaned, and the -smell of soap and soda, cleansing the unspeakable foulness of the -infirmary linen, rose up strong and pungent, as the women carried out -the purified heaps to blow dry in the wind and sunshine. - -The inmates worked hard and steadily under the keen eye of the matron; -many of them knew by bitter experience that inattention or gossip might -cost them the loss of fingers at the calenders and wringing machines. -Most of the women were strong and able-bodied, and yet the briefest -inquiry would reveal some moral flaw rendering them incapable of -competing in the labour market--drink, dishonesty, immorality, -feeble-mindedness. Amongst the heavy, uncomely figures I noticed a young -woman, tall and well-grown, with a face modest and refined, framed in -masses of dark hair under the pauper cap. She was folding sheets and -table-cloths, working languidly as if in pain, and I drew the matron's -attention to the fact. - -"Yes, I don't think she'll finish the day's work. I told her to go over -to the infirmary if she liked, but she said she would rather stay here -as long as she could. Yes, usual thing, but she is a better class than -we get here as a rule." - -A few days later I saw her again in the lying-in ward, a black-haired -babe in the cradle beside her, and her hair in two rope-like plaits -hanging over the pillow nearly to the ground. - -She looked so healthy, handsome, and honest amongst the disease and -ugliness and vice around that one wondered how she came to the -workhouse. "Yes," said the nurse, in answer to my thoughts, "she is not -the sort we have here generally. No, I don't know anything about her; -she is very silent, and they say she refused to answer the relieving -officer." I sat down beside her and tried to talk about her future, but -the girl answered in monosyllables, with tightly shut lips, as if she -were afraid to speak. - -"Won't the father of your child do anything for you?" - -"I do not wish him to." - -I had been a Guardian long enough to respect reticence, and I rose to -go. The darkness of the December afternoon had fallen in the long, -half-empty ward, the sufferers dozed, the wailing of babes was hushed, -all was strangely quiet, and as I reached the door I heard a voice, -"Please come back, ma'am; I should like to ask you something." Then, as -I turned to her bedside again, "I have not told any one my story here; -I don't think they would believe me; but it is true all the same. But -please tell me first, do you hold with keeping a vow?" - -"Yes, certainly I do." - -"That is why I am here. I swore an oath to my dying mother, and I have -kept it. I did not know how hard it would be to keep, but because I -would not break it I have come to disgrace. When we were children we had -a cruel, drunken father, and I seem to remember mother always crying, -and at night we would be wakened with screams, and we used to rush in -and try and stop father beating her to death, and the cruel blows used -to half shatter our poor little bodies. One night we were too late, and -we saw mother wrapped in a sheet of flame--and her shrieks! It is -fifteen years ago now, but they still ring in my ears. The neighbours -came and the police, and they put out the fire, and took mother to the -hospital and father to the lock-up. Mother did not live long and she -suffered cruel. The next day they took us children to see her. We hardly -knew it was mother; she was bandaged up with white like a mummy, and -only one black eye blazing like a live coal out of the rags--she had -beautiful eyes--made us know her. The little boys cried, so that nurse -took them out again, but they let me stay with her all night, holding a -bit of rag where her hand had once been. Just as the grey dawn came in -at the windows mother spoke, very low so that I had to stoop down to -hear: 'Hester, my child, swear to me you will never marry, and I will -die happy. The boys can look after themselves, but I cannot bear to -think of you suffering as I have suffered.' - -"'Yes, mother, I'll swear.' No girl of thirteen is keen on marriage, -particularly with a father like ours, and I took up the book -light-heartedly and swore 'So help me, God.' - -"'Thank Heaven, my dear! Now kiss me.' - -"I kissed a bit of rag where her mouth had been, and I saw that the -black eye was dim and glazed, and the eyelid fell down as if she were -sleeping. I sat on till the nurses changed watch, and then they told me -she was dead. - -"Father got a life sentence, the boys were sent to workhouse schools, -and some ladies found me a situation in the country near Oxford. When I -was about seventeen the under-gardener came courting me. He was a -straight, well-set-up young chap, and I fell in love with him at once, -but when he talked about marriage--having good wages--I remembered my -oath. Jem said an oath like that wasn't binding; and when I said I'd -live with him if he liked, he was very shocked, having honourable -intentions, and he went and fetched the vicar to talk to me. He was a -very holy man, with the peace of God shining through his eyes, and he -talked so kind and clever, telling me that mother was dying and half-mad -with pain and weakness, and that she would be the first to absolve me -from such a vow. I couldn't argue with him, and so I forgot my manners, -and ran out of the room for fear he'd master me. When Jem saw nothing -would move me he went off one morning to America, leaving a letter to -say as he had gone away for fear he should take me at my word and be my -ruin. - -"Things were very black after that; I had not known what he was to me -till the sea was between us, and, worse than the sea, my oath to the -dying. I left my good situation because I could not bear it any longer -without him, and I came up to London and got into bad places and saw -much wickedness, and got very lonely and very miserable, and learnt what -temptation is to girls left alone. I used to go into the big Catholic -cathedral by Victoria Station and kneel down by the image of the Virgin -and just say, 'Please help me to keep my oath.' - -"Then one day in spring, when all the flowers were out in the park, and -all the lovers whispering under the trees, I remembered I was -twenty-seven, and though I could never have a husband at least I might -have a child. A great wave of longing came over me that I could not -resist, and so I fell. And then later, when I knew what was coming to -me, I was filled with terrible remorse--leastways one day I was full of -joy because of my baby, and the next day I was fit to drown myself in -shame. Then the Sunday before I was brought in here I went to service in -St. Paul's. I had felt sick and queer all day, and I just sat down on -one of the seats at the back and listened to the singing high and sweet -above my head, like the chanting of the heavenly host. I was always fond -of going to St. Paul's, and once on my Sunday out I even went to the -Sacrament, and I says, 'O God, I've lost my character, but I've kept my -oath. You made me so fond of children; please don't let me eat and drink -my own damnation.' - -"I sat and thought of this, puzzling and puzzling, and the hot air out -of the gratings made me drowsy, and I fell asleep and dreamt it was the -Judgment Day, and I stood with my baby before the Throne, and a great -white light shone on me, bleak and terrible, so that I felt scorched -with blinding cold. And the angel from his book read out: 'Hester French -and her bastard child.' - -"Then there came a little kind voice: 'She kept her oath to her dying -mother, and remember, she was a woman and all alone'; and I knew it was -the Virgin Mary pleading for me. And then a voice like thunder sounded: -'Blot out her sin!' and all the choirs of heaven sang together; and I -awoke, but it was only the organ crashing out very loud, and the verger -shaking me because he wanted to lock up. Oh, ma'am, do you think as my -sin will be forgiven? At least I kept my vow." - - - - -BLIND AND DEAF - - Oh, human soul! as long as thou canst so - Set up a mark of everlasting light, - Above the howling senses' ebb and flow, - To cheer thee and to right thee if thou roam-- - Not with lost toil thou labourest through the night! - Thou mak'st the heaven thou hop'st indeed thy home. - - -Mary Grant, pauper, of Sick Ward 42, had been making charges of -unkindness against Nurse Smith, and I had been appointed by the House -Committee to inquire into the matter. I found a somewhat -harassed-looking nurse filling up temperature-charts in a corner of the -ward, and she began volubly to deny the charges. - -"The woman's deaf, so it is no good shouting at her, and I believe she -is angry because I can't talk on my fingers; but what with looking after -both wards and washing and bathing them all, and taking their -temperatures and feeding them, and giving them their medicine, I have -not time to attend to the fads and fancies of each one. Granny Hunt, -too, takes half my time seeing that she does not break her neck with her -antics; and as to scraping the butter off Grant's bread I hope as the -Committee did not attend to such a tale." - -The last accusation, I assured her, had not even been brought before -us, and I passed down the long clean ward where lay sufferers of all -ages and conditions--the mighty head of the hydrocephalus child side by -side with the few shrivelled bones of an aged paralytic. I passed the -famous Mrs. Hunt--a "granny" of ninety-six, who "kept all her limbs very -supple" and herself in excellent condition by a system of mattress -gymnastics which she had evolved for herself. Two comparatively young -people of seventy and eighty, who were unfortunate enough to lie next -her, complained bitterly of Granny's restlessness; but the old lady was -past discipline and "restraining influences," and, beyond putting a -screen round her to check vanity and ensure decency, the authorities -left her to her gymnastic displays. On the whole, though, the ward was -very proud of Granny; she was the oldest inhabitant, not only in the -House but also in the parish, and even female sick-wards take a certain -pride in holding a record. The old lady cocked a bright eye, like a -bird, upon me as I passed her bed, and, cheerfully murmuring "Oh, the -agony!" executed a species of senile somersault with much agility. - -Round the blazing fire at the end of the ward (for excellent fires -commend me to those rate-supported) sat a group of "chronics" and -convalescents--a poor girl, twisted and racked with St. Vitus's dance, -white-haired "grannies" in every stage of rheumatic or senile decay, and -a silent figure with bowed head, still in early middle life, who, they -told me, was Mary Grant. - -I shouted my inquiries down her ear _crescendo fortissimo_, without the -smallest response--not even the flicker of an eyelid--whilst the -grannies listened with apathetic indifference. - -"Not a bit of good, ma'am," they said presently, when I paused, -exhausted; "she's stone deaf." - -Then I drew a piece of paper from my pocket and wrote my questions, big -and clear. - -"Not a bit of good, ma'am," shouted the grannies again; "she's stone -blind." - -I gazed helplessly at the silent figure, with the blood still flowing in -her veins, and yet living, as it were, in the darkness and loneliness of -the tomb. - -"If she is blind and deaf and dumb, how does she manage to complain?" - -"Oh! she manages that all right, ma'am," said a granny whose one eye -twinkled humorously in its socket; "she's not dumb--not 'alf. The nuss -that's left and Mrs. Green, the other blind lidy, talk on her fingers to -her, and she grumbles away, when the fit takes 'er, a treat to 'ear; not -as I blimes her, poor sowl; most of us who comes 'ere 'ave something to -put up with; but she 'as more than 'er share of trouble. No, none of us -know 'ow to do it--we aren't scholards; but you catches 'old on 'er -'and, and mauls it about in what they call the deaf-and-dumb halphabet, -and she spells out loud like the children." - -I remembered with joy that I also was "a scholard," for one of the few -things we all learned properly at school was the art of talking to each -other on our fingers under the desks during class. A good deal of water -had flowed under London Bridge since then, but for once I felt the -advantage of what educationists call "a thorough grounding." - -"How are you?" spelt out a feeble, harsh voice as I made the signs--I -had forgotten the "w" and was not sure of the "r," but she guessed them -with ready wit--then in weird rasping tones, piping and whistling into -shrill falsetto like the "cracking" voice of a youth, she burst into -talk: "Oh! I am so thankful--so thankful. It seems years since any one -came to talk to me--the dear nurse has left, and the other blind lady's -gone to have her inside taken out, and the blind gentleman is taking a -holiday, and I have been that low I have not known how to live. '_Thou -hast laid me in the lowest pit; in a place of darkness and in the deep. -Thine indignation lieth hard upon me; and Thou hast vexed me with all -Thy storms._' David knew how I feel just exactly--might have been a deaf -and blind woman himself, shut up in a work'us. I have been here nigh on -two year now; I used to do fine sewing and lace-mending for the shops, -and earned a tidy bit, being always very handy with my needle; then one -day, as I was stitching by the window--finishing a job as had to go home -that night--a flash of lightning seemed to come and hit me in the eye -somehow--I remember how the fire shone bright zig-zag across the black -sky, and then there was a crash, and nothing more. - -"No, it was not a very nice thing to happen to anybody; two year ago -now, and there has been nothing but fierce, aching blackness round me -ever since, and great silence except for the rumblings in my ears like -trains in a tunnel; but I hear nothing, not even the thunder. At first I -fretted awful; I felt as if I must have done something very wicked for -God to rain down fire from heaven on me as if I had been Sodom and -Gomorrah; but I'd not done half so bad as many; I'd always kept myself -respectable, and done the lace-mending, and earned enough for mother, -too--fortunately, she died afore the thunder came and hit me, or she'd -have broken her heart for me. It was very strange. Mother was such a one -to be frightened at thunder, and when we lived in the country before -father died she always took a candle and the Book and went down to the -cellar out of the way of the lightning--seemed as if she knew what a -nasty trick the thunder was going to play me--she was always a very -understanding woman, was mother--she came from Wales, and had what she -called 'the sight.' - -"Yes; I went on fretting fearful about my sins until the blind gentleman -found me out--him as comes oh Saturdays and teaches us blind ladies to -read. Oh, he was a comfort! He learned me the deaf alphabet, and how to -read in the Braille book, and it's not so bad now. He knows all about -the heavenly Jerusalem, and the beautiful music and the flowers -blossoming round the Throne of God. I think he's what they calls a -Methody, and mother and I were Church. I used to go to the Sunday -School, and learnt the Catechism, and 'thus to think of the Trinity.' -However, he's a very good man all the same, and a great comfort--and he -found me a special text from God: 'Then the eyes of the blind shall be -opened, and the ears of the deaf shall be unstopped.' That is the -promise to me and to him; being blind, he understands a bit himself, -though what the hullaballoo in my ears is no tongue can tell. - -"Mrs. Green, the other blind lady, is such a one to be talking about the -diamonds and pearls in the crowns of glory; but I don't understand -nothing about no jewels. What I seem to want to see again is the row of -scarlet geraniums that used to stand on our window-sill; the sun always -shone in on them about tea-time, and mother and I thought a world of the -light shining on them red Jacobys. But the blind gentleman says as I -shall see them again round the Throne." - -"She wanders a bit," said the one-eyed granny, touching her forehead -significantly; "she's such a one for this Methody talk." - -I have noticed that the tone of the workhouse, though perfectly tolerant -and liberal, is inclined to scepticism, in spite of the vast -preponderance of the Church of England (C. of E.) in the "Creed Book." - -"Let her wander, then," retorted another orthodox member; "she ain't -got much to comfort her 'ere below--the work'us ain't exactly a -paradise. For Gawd's sake leave 'er 'er 'eaven and 'er scarlet -geraniums." - -"One thing, ma'am, as pleased her was some dirty old lace one of the -lidies brought for her one afternoon. She was just as 'appy as most -females are with a babby, a-fingering of it and calling it all manner of -queer names. There isn't a sight of old lace knocking about 'ere," and -her one eye twinkled merrily; "I guess we lidies willed it all away to -our h'ancestry afore seeking retirement. Our gowns aren't hexactly -trimmed with priceless guipure, though there's some fine 'and embroidery -on my h'apern," and she thrust the coarsely darned linen between the -delicate fingers. - -"Garn!--they're always a-kiddin' of me. Yes, ma'am, I love to feel real -lace; I can still tell them all by the touch--Brussels and Chantilly and -Honiton and rose-point; it reminds me of the lovely things I used to -mend up for the ladies to go to see the Queen in." - -They showed me her needlework--handkerchiefs and dusters hemmed with -much accuracy, and knitting more even than that of many of us who can -see. - -As I rose to go she took my finger and laid it upon the cabalistic signs -of the "Book." - -"Don't you understand it? That's my own text, as I reads when things are -worse than general: 'Our light affliction, which is but for a moment, -worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory.' Yes, -there'll be glory for me--glory for me--glory for me." - -I heard the shrill, hoarse voice piping out the old revival hymn, very -much out of tune, as I passed down the ward. - -I had a nasty lump in my throat when I got back to the Board Room, and I -can't exactly remember what I said to the Committee. I think I cleared -Nurse Smith from any definite charge of cruelty, something after the -fashion of the Irish jurymen: "Not guilty, but don't do it again," -adding the rider that Mary Grant was blind and deaf, and if she grumbled -it was not surprising. - -It is possible my report was incoherent and subversive of discipline, -and my feelings were not hurt because it was neither "received," nor -"adopted," nor "embodied," nor "filed for future reference," but, -metaphorically speaking, "lay on the table" to all eternity. - - - - -"AND, BEHOLD, THE BABE WEPT" - - And, behold, the babe wept. And she had compassion upon him. - - -The night-porter sat in his lodge at 1 a.m., trying hard to keep off the -sleep that weighed his eyelids down--that heavy sleep that all -night-watchers know when nothing in the world seems worth a longer -vigil. - -But the man before him had been dismissed for sleeping on duty, and our -night-porter had had six months out of work, so, with resolute -determination, he dragged up his leaden limbs and began to pace the -corridors towards the Mental Ward, where he knew the screams of the -insane were generally to be relied upon to keep sleep away from any one -in the neighbourhood. To-night all was quiet, and it was with a brief -prayer of thanksgiving that he heard the insistent note of the electric -bell, and rushed to answer it, the lethargy leaving him under the -necessity of action. - -A policeman entered in a blast of wind and rain, drops off his cape, -making black runlets on the white stone floor. From under his arm he -drew a red bundle and laid it carefully down on a mat in front of the -fire. "Evening, porter, I've brought you a present from the cabbage-bed. -What do you think of that for a saucy girl? Hush, my dear! don't cry," -as the babe, unsettled from his warm arms, gave forth a shrill cry of -displeasure. "Pretty little thing, ain't she? and left out under a -laurel-bush this bitter night. Some women are worse than brutes." - -The porter, who was himself a married man, picked up the babe and -soothed it in practised arms. "And 'ow about the father? Something as -calls itself a man 'as 'ad an 'and in this business, and druv the gal to -it, may be. My old dad allus says, 'God cuss the scoundrel who leaves a -poor lass to bear her trouble alone!'" - -"And now," said the policeman, when the nurse, summoned by telephone, -had borne off the indignant babe to the Children's Ward, "I suppose you -must enter the case. I found the kid under a laurel-bush at 7, Daventry -Terrace. A lady blew a whistle out of the window and said she could not -sleep for a whining outside. I tried to put her off as it was cats, but -she stuck to it; so, just to quiet her, I cast round with my lantern, -and, sure enough, she was right. Mighty upset about it, poor woman, she -was, being a single lady. However, as I told her, such things may happen -in any garden, married or single." - -A name was chosen for her by an imaginative member of the House -Committee, remembering his classical education--Daphne Daventry--the -Christian name as an everlasting reminder of her foster parent the -laurel-bush. - -In due season the familiar notices were posted at the police-stations -offering "a reward for the discovery of person or persons unknown who -had abandoned a female infant in the garden of 7, Daventry Terrace, -whereby the aforesaid female infant had become chargeable to the -parish"; and, the Press giving publicity to the affair, offers of -adoption poured in to the Guardians--pathetic letters from young mothers -whose children had died, and business-like communications from -middle-aged couples, who had "weighed the matter" and were "prepared to -adopt the foundling." - -The Board discussed the question at their next meeting, and the Clerk -was directed to inquire into the character and circumstances of the most -likely applicants. - -"One thing to which I should like to draw the attention of the Board," -said a conscientious Guardian, "is the importance of bringing up a child -in the religion of its parents." - -"Seems to me, in this case," retorted a working-man member, who was also -a humorist, "that it might be a good thing to try a change." - -And then the Clerk, in his clear legal way, pointed out that the -religious question had better not be pressed, as there was small -evidence before him as to the theological tenets of the person or -persons unknown who had exposed the female infant. - -Meantime, the latest workhouse character slumbered in the nursery in -passive enjoyment of the excellent rate-supported fires, and was fed -with a scientific fluid, so Pasteurized and sterilized and generally -Bowdlerized that it seemed quite vulgar to call it milk. The nurses -adorned the cot with all the finery they could collect, and all the -women in the place managed to evade the rules of classification, and got -into the nursery, where they dandled the infant and said it was "a -shame." - -One of the most devoted worshippers at the shrine of Daphne Daventry was -a lady Guardian, a frail and tiny little woman, with a pair of wide-open -eyes, from which a look of horror was never wholly absent. She was -always very shabbily dressed--so shabbily, indeed, that a new official -had once taken her for a "case" and conducted her to the waiting-room of -applicants for relief. After such an object-lesson, any other woman -would have gone to do some shopping; but not so the little lady -Guardian--she did not even brighten her dowdiness with a new pair of -bonnet-strings. Though she wrote herself down in the nomination-papers -as a "married woman," no one had ever seen or heard of her husband, and -report said that he was either a lunatic or a convict. - -This mystery of her married life, combined with her "dreadful -appearance" and a certain reckless generosity towards the poor, made her -many enemies amongst scientific philanthropists. Her large-hearted -charity had been given to the just and the unjust, to the drunk as well -as the sober, and the Charity Organization Society complained that her -investigations were not thorough, and that the quality of her mercy was -neither strained nor trained. But the little lady Guardian opened her -old silk purse again and quoted the Scriptures: "Give to him that asketh -thee, and from him that would borrow turn not thou away." - -The C.O.S. replied, such precepts had proved to be out of date -economically, and nominated a more modern lady, who had missed a great -career as a private detective. - -But the little lady Guardian had a faithful majority, and her name was -always head of the poll. - -One afternoon, as the little lady Guardian sat by the fire with Daphne -Daventry on her shabby serge lap, a prospective parent, Mrs. Annie -Smith, was brought up to see if she "took to the child." - -"Oh, what a lovely baby!" she cried, falling on her knees to adore. -"What nice blue eyes, and what dear little hands! And her hair is -beginning to grow already! Both my children died five years ago; I have -never had another, and I just feel as if I could not live without a -baby. It is terrible to lose one's children." - -"It is worse to have none." - -"Oh, no, no!" - -"Yes, it is," said the little lady Guardian in a low voice, as if she -were talking to herself. "When I was a little girl I had six sailor-boy -dolls, and I always meant to have six sons; but directly after my -marriage I realized it could never be." - -Mrs. Smith had known sorrow, and, feeling by intuition that she was in -the presence of no ordinary tragedy, she held her peace. - -"Perhaps," she asked presently, "you are going to adopt this baby? You -seem very fond of her." - -"I love all babies, but I don't think I could adopt one; these workhouse -children don't start fair, and I should be too frightened. If the child -went wrong later, I don't think I could bear it." - -Mrs. Smith had been a pupil-teacher, and in the last five years of -leisure she had read widely, if confusedly, at the free library. "But -people now no longer believe in heredity. Weissman's theory is that -environment is stronger then heredity." - -"Oh!" said the little lady Guardian. - -"Do read him," said Mrs. Smith excitedly, "and then you won't feel so -low-spirited, and perhaps the Guardians will let you adopt the next -foundling. But please let me have this one. I have taken to her more -than I thought. Oh! please, please----" - -"I will vote for you at the next Board meeting," said the little lady -Guardian, "and may she make up to you for the children you have lost." - -A few days later Mrs. Annie Smith, her honest face beaming with joy, -arrived again at the workhouse, followed by a small servant with a big -bundle. The attiring of the infant was long and careful, and many came -to help, and then Daphne Daventry was whirled away in a flutter of -purple and fine linen, and the burden of the rates was lightened. - - - - -"MARY, MARY, PITY WOMEN!" - - -A woman sat alone with folded hands in a dark fireless room. There was -little or no furniture to hold the dust, and one could see that the -pitiful process known as "putting away" had been going on, for the -cleanly scrubbed boards and polished grate showed the good housewife's -struggle after decency. On a small table in the centre of the room stood -half a loaf of bread, a jug of water, and a cup of milk. The woman bore -traces of good looks, but her face was grey and pinched with hunger, and -in her eyes was a smouldering fire of resentment and despair. - -Presently the silence and gloom was broken by the entrance of a troop of -children returning noisily from school. Their faces fell when they saw -the scanty meal, and the youngest, a child of four or five, threw -himself sobbing into his mother's arms: "Oh, mother, I'se so hungry; we -only had that bit of bread for dinner." - -"Hush, dear! There is a little milk for you and Gladys; you can drink as -far as the blue pattern, and the rest is for her." - -The mother kissed him and tried to dry his tears; but it is hard to hear -one's children crying for food; and presently her fortitude gave way, -and she began to sob too. The older children, frightened at her -breakdown, clung round her, weeping; and the room echoed like a -torture-chamber with sobs and wails. - -Presently a knock sounded at the door, and a stout, motherly woman -entered. "Good evening, Mrs. Blake; I've just looked in to know if you'd -bring the children to have a cup of tea with me. I'm all alone, and I -like a bit of company. H'albert is always the boy for my money. I just -opened a pot of my home-made plum jam on purpose for him. There, my -dear, have your cry out, and never mind me! Things have gone badly with -you, I know, and nothing clears the system so well as a good cry; you -feel a sight better after, and able to face the world fair and square. -Now, kiddies, leave mother to herself for a bit and come and help me set -the tea things. Let's see, we shall be seven all told; so, Lily, will -you run upstairs to Mrs. Johnson--my compliments, and will she oblige -with a cup and saucer, as we are such a big party." - -The landlady's kitchen was warmed with a big fire, and hermetically -sealed against draughts; a big bed took up the greater part of the room, -and this formed a luxurious divan for the four children, to whom the hot -tea and toast, the tinned lobster, and the home-made jam were nectar and -ambrosia. Mrs. Blake had the place of honour by the fire, and when the -meal was over the children were advised to run out for a game in the -street, and Mrs. Wells, turning her chair round to the cheerful blaze, -said soothingly-- - -"Now, my dear, you look a bit better. Tell us all about it." - -"Yes, you were quite right; we have to go into the workhouse. I went -round to the Rev. Walker, and he advised me to go to the police-station, -and they told me there as I and the children had better become a burden -to the rates as we are destitute, and they can start looking for Blake, -to make him pay the eighteen shillings a week separation order. To think -of me and my children having to go into the House, and me first-class in -the scholarship examination! It breaks my heart to think of it." - -"Yes; you've 'ad a rough time, my dear--worse than the rest of us, and -we all have our troubles. I remember when you came a twelvemonth ago to -engage the room, and you said you was a widow. I passed the remark to -Wells that evening: 'The lidy in the top-floor back ain't no widow; mark -my words, there's a 'usband knocking about somewhere!' On the faces of -them as are widows I have noticed a great peace, as if they were giving -of thanks that they are for ever free from the worritings of men, and -that look ain't on your face, my dear--not by a long chalk!" - -"Yes, he's alive all right; I got a separation order from him a couple -of years ago. He went off with a woman in the next street, and though he -soon tired of her and came back again, I felt I could not live with him -any longer; the very sight of him filled me with repulsion and loathing. -Father and mother always warned me against him; father told me he saw he -wasn't any good; but then, I was only nineteen, and obstinate as girls -in love always are, and I wouldn't be said. Poor father! I often wish as -I'd listened to him, but I didn't, and I always think it was the death -of him when I went home and told him what my married life was. He had -been so proud of me doing so well at school and in all the examinations. -Just at first we were very happy after our marriage. He earned good -money as a commercial traveller in the drapery business; we had a little -house in Willesden, and a piano, and an india-rubber plant between the -curtains in the parlour, and a girl to help with the housework, and I, -like a fool, worshipped the very ground he walked on. Then, after a -time, he seemed to change; he came home less and took to going after -women as if he were a boy of eighteen instead of a married man getting -on for forty. He gave me less and less money for the house, and spent -his week-ends at the sea for the good of his health. One very hot summer -the children were pale and fretting, and I was just sick for a sight of -the sea, but he said he could not afford to take us, not even for a -day-trip; afterwards I heard as Mrs. Bates was always with him, there -was plenty of money for that. That summer it seemed as if it never would -get cool again, and one evening in late September my Martin was taken -very queer. I begged my husband not to go away, I felt frightened -somehow, but he said as some sea-air was necessary for his health, and -that there was nothing the matter with the boy, only my fussing. That -night Martin got worse and worse; towards morning a neighbour went for -the doctor, but the child throttled and died in my arms before he came. -I was all alone. I didn't even know my husband's address, and when I -went with the little coffin all alone to the cemetery it seemed as if I -left my heart there in the grave with the boy. He was my eldest, and -none of the others have been to me what he was. Later on all the girls -caught the diphtheria, but they got well again, only Martin was taken. -Blake seemed a bit ashamed when he got back; but he left Willesden, some -of the neighbours speaking out plain to him about Mrs. Bates, and he not -to be found to follow his child's funeral. He tried to make it up with -me; but I told him I was going to get a separation order, as I'd taken a -sort of repulsion against looking at him since Martin had died alone -with me, and the magistrate made an order upon him for eighteen -shillings a week--little enough out of the five or six pounds a week he -could earn before he took to wine and women and Mrs. Bates. My little -home and the piano were sold up, and I soon found eighteen shillings a -week did not go far with four hungry children to clothe and feed, and -rent beside. I tried to get back in my old profession, but I had been -out of it too long, no one would look at me, and I could only get -cooking and charing to do--very exhausting work when you haven't been -brought up to it. At first I got the money pretty regular, but lately it -has been more and more uncertain, some weeks only eight or ten -shillings, and sometimes missing altogether. He owes me now a matter of -twenty pound or more, and last week I braced myself up and determined to -do what I could to recover it. If it was only myself, I'd manage, but, -work hard as I can, I can't keep the five of us, and it has about broke -my heart lately to hear the children crying with hunger and cold. Mrs. -Robins, where I used to work, died a fortnight ago, and I shan't find -any one like her again. When one of the ladies goes, it is a job to get -another, so many poor creatures are after the charing and cleaning. The -Rev. Walker has been a good friend to me, but he says I ought to go into -the House. 'A man ought to support his wife and children,' he says, 'and -I hope as they'll catch him,' he says." - -"'Yes,' I says, but it is awful to go into the House when we haven't -done anything wrong, and my father an organist.' - -"'Very cruel, Mrs. Blake,' he says, 'but I see no other way. I will -write to the Guardians to ask if they will allow you out-relief, but I -fear they will say you are too destitute!' - -"And now, Mrs. Wells, we had better be starting. I hope if they find him -I shall be able to pay up the back rent; the table and chairs left I -hope you will keep towards the payment of the debt. Thank you for all -your kindness." - -"All right, Mrs. Blake, don't you worry about that, my dear. Wells is in -good work, thank God, and I don't miss a few 'apence. I'm such a one for -children, and your H'albert is a beauty, he is; I've been right glad to -give them a bite and sup now and again. I know children sent out with -empty stomachs aren't in a fit state to absorb learning; it leads to -words and rows with the teachers and canings afore the day's over. I -can't abear to see people cross with children, and I'd do anything to -save them the cane. Well, I hope, my dear, as they'll soon nail that -beauty of yours, and that we shall see you back again. Perhaps I ought -to tell you that a chap calling 'isself a sanitary inspector called this -morning to say as five people mustn't sleep in the top-back floor. I -told 'im as the room was let to a widow lady in poor circumstances, and -was he prepared to guarantee the rent of two rooms. That made him huffy. -It wasn't his business, he said, but overcrowding was agen his Council's -rules." - -And the old lady held up the document upside down and then consigned it -to the flames. - -"There will be no overcrowding to night," said Mrs. Blake bitterly. - -The children were collected and scrubbed till their faces shone with -friction and yellow soap, and then the little procession started to the -workhouse. Mr. Wells, returned from work, announced his intention of -giving his arm up the hill to Mrs. Blake, and the young man of the -second floor volunteered his services to help carry "H'albert," who was -heavy and sleepy, and his contribution of a packet of peppermints -cheered the journey greatly. When the cruel gates of the House closed on -the weeping children the two men walked home silently. Once Wells swore -quietly but forcibly under his breath. - -"You're right, mate," said the young man. "This job has put me off my -tea. I'll just turn into the 'King of Bohemia,' and drink till I forget -them children's sobs." - - -_Note._--I understand that under a separation order the police have -authority to search for the husband without forcing the family into the -House. I called at the police-station to inquire why this was not done, -and was informed that the woman's destitution was so great that they -feared the children might die of starvation before the man was brought -to book. - - - - -THE SUICIDE - - In she plunged boldly, - No matter how coldly - The rough river ran; - Over the brink of it-- - Picture it--think of it, - Dissolute man. - - -She lay in bed, in the long, clean Sick Ward--a fine-grown and -well-favoured young woman with masses of black hair tossed over the -whiteness of the ratepayers' sheets. Such a sight is rare in a workhouse -infirmary, where one needs the infinite compassion of Christian charity -or the hardness of habit to bear the pitiful sights of disease and -imbecility. - -"She looks as if she ought not to be here?" I observed interrogatively -to the nurse. - -"Attempted suicide. Brought last night by the police, wrapped in a -blanket and plastered in mud from head to foot. Magnificent hair?--yes, -and a magnificent job I had washing of it, and my corridor and bathroom -like a ploughed field. Usual thing--might have killed her?--oh, no; -these bad girls take a deal of killing." - -I sat down beside the bed, and heard the usual story--too common to -excite either interest or compassion in an official mind. - -She had been a nursemaid, but had left service for the bar; and there -one of the gentlemen customers had been very kind to her and had walked -out with her on Sundays and taken her to restaurants and the theatre. -Then followed the usual promise of marriage and the long delay, till her -work had become impossible, "and the governor had spoken his mind and -given her the sack." - -"I wrote to the gentleman, but the letter came back through the Returned -Letter Office. He must have given me a false name, because when I called -at the house no one had heard of him. I had no money, and had to pawn my -clothes and the jewellery he had given me to pay for food and the rent -of my room. I dared not go home; they are very strict Chapel people, and -they told me I never was to come near them after I became a barmaid. -Then one day the gentleman wrote, giving no address, and saying that his -wife had found out about me, and our friendship must come to an end. He -enclosed two pounds, which was all he could afford, and asked me to -forgive him the wrong he had done me. I seemed to go clean mad after -that letter. I did not know he was married, and I had kept hoping it -would be all right, and that he would make an honest woman of me. I -thought I should have died in the night. I was taken with dreadful -pains, so that I could not move from my bed, and though I shouted for -help no one heard till the next morning, when my landlady came to me, -and she went for the doctor. The two pounds lasted me about a month, and -then I had nothing left again--nothing to eat and nothing to pawn, and -the rent always mounting up against me. My landlady was very kind to me, -but her husband had gone off with another woman and left her with three -children. She was often in want herself, and I couldn't take anything -from her. There seemed nothing but the pond; and after the gentleman had -played it down so low the whole world looked black and inky before my -eyes. I just seemed to long for death and peace before every one knew my -disgrace. I came up twice to chuck myself into the pond, and twice I -hadn't the pluck. Then last night I had been so sick and dizzy all day -with hunger I did not feel a bit of a coward any longer, so I waited -about till it was dark and then I climbed up on the railings and threw -myself backwards. The water was bitterly cold, and like a fool I -hollered; then I sank again, and the water came strangling and choking -down my throat, and I remember nothing more till I felt something -raising my head and a dark-lantern shining in my face. The nurse came -about half an hour ago to tell me that I must go before the magistrates -to-morrow; it seems rather hard, when one cannot live, that the police -will not even let you die. No, I did not know that girls like me might -come to the workhouse. I thought it was only for the very old and the -very poor; perhaps if I had known that I need not have made a hole in -the water. But must I go with the police to the court all alone amongst -a lot of men? Oh, ma'am, I can't; I should be so shamed. And think of -the questions they will ask me! And I was a good girl till such a short -time ago. Won't one of the nurses come with me, or will you?" - -It is one thing to promise to chaperone a beautiful, forlorn young woman -lying in bed, a type of injured youth and innocence, and another to meet -her in the cold light of 9 a.m. arrayed in the cheap finery of her -class. Her flimsy skirt was shrunk and warped after its adventure in the -pond, and with the best will in the world the nurses had been unable to -brush away the still damp mud which stuck to the gauged flounces and the -interstices of the "peek-a-boo" blouse. A damp and shapeless mass of -pink roses and chiffon adorned the beautiful hair, which had been -tortured and puffed into vulgarity, and to complete the scarecrow -appearance, her own boots being quite unwearable, she had been provided -with a pair of felt slippers very much _en evidence_ owing to the -shrinkage of draperies. - -I am afraid I longed for a telegram or sudden indisposition--anything -for an excuse decently to break faith. There are not even cabs near our -workhouse, and so, under the escort of a mighty policeman, the forlorn -little procession set forth to brave the humorous glances of the -heartless street-boys until the walls of the police-court hid us, along -with other human wreckage, from mocking eyes. - -Presently a boy of seventeen or eighteen, small and slight, in the -dress of a clerk, came up to my companion and hoped in a very hoarse -voice that she had not taken cold. - -"This is the gentleman," said the girl, "who saved my life the other -night in the pond." - -"I don't know how I managed it," said the boy, "but I was passing along -the Heath when I heard you screaming so dreadfully that I rushed down to -the pond and into the water before I really knew what I was doing, for I -can't swim a stroke. I just managed to catch your dress before you sank, -but the mud was so slippery I could hardly keep my footing, and your -weight was dragging me down into deep water. Fortunately I managed to -catch hold of the sunk fence, and that steadied me so that I could lift -your head out, and you came round. Yes, I have had a very bad cold. I -had to walk a long way in my wet clothes, and the night air was sharp. -But never mind that--what I did want to say to you is that you must buck -up, you know, and not do this sort of thing. We are here now, and we've -got to make the best of it." And, all unconscious of the tragedy of -womanhood, the boy read her a simple, straightforward lesson on the duty -of fortitude and trust in God. - -Whilst he talked my eye wandered round the court and the motley -collection of plaintiffs, defendants, and witnesses. The preponderance -of the male sex bore witness to the law-abiding qualities of women, for, -with the exception of the girl and myself, the only other woman was a -thin, grey-haired person very primly dressed. - -"Yes, that is mother," said the girl, "but she won't speak to me. She -has taken no notice of me for more than a year. I've been such a bad -example to the younger girls, and they're all strict Chapel folks." - -"Lily Weston!" cried a stentorian voice, and our "case" was bundled into -the inner court, mother and daughter walking next to each other in -silent hostility. The poor girl was placed in the prisoner's dock -between iron bars as if she were some dangerous wild beast, whilst "the -gentleman" who was the real offender ranged free and unmolested. -Constable X 172 told the story of attempted suicide, and then the boy -followed. Then the mother spoke shortly and bitterly as to the girl's -troubles being of her own making. - -"Anything to say?" asked the magistrate; but the girl hung her head low -in shame and confusion, whilst the magistrate congratulated the boy on -his pluck and presence of mind. - -The clerk came round and whispered in the ear of his chief, who looked -at the prisoner with grave kindliness under his bushy white eyebrows; he -had more sympathy than the laws he administered. - -"Call Miss Sperling," he said to the policeman, and then to the -prisoner: "If I discharge you now, will you go away with this lady, who -will find a home for you?" - -"Oh, yes, sir," cried the prisoner with a burst of hysterical weeping -as the bolts rattled from the dock and the kindly hand of the lady -missionary clasped hers. - -A distinguished Nonconformist once told me that our Anglican Prayer Book -was a mass of ungranted petitions, which, after careful thought, I had -to admit was true; but at least on the whole I think our prayers for -this particular magistrate have been answered. - - - - -PUBLICANS AND HARLOTS - - Verily I say unto you, that the publicans and harlots go into the - kingdom of God before you. - - -It was 7.30 p.m., and in the Young Women's Ward of the workhouse the -inmates were going to bed by the crimson light of the July sunset. Most -of the women had babies, and now and then a fretful cry would interrupt -a story that was being listened to with much interest and laughter and -loud exclamations: "Oh, Daisy, you are a caution!" - -Had a literary critic been present, he would have classed the tale as -belonging to the French realistic school of Zola and Maupassant. The -_raconteuse_, Daisy Crabtree, who might have sat as a model for -Rossetti's Madonna of the Annunciation, was a slight, golden-haired -girl, known to philanthropists as a "daughter of the State," and an -object-lesson against such stepmothering. Picked up as an infant under a -crab-tree by the police, and christened later in commemoration of the -discovery, she had been brought up in a "barrack-school," and a "place" -found for her at fifteen, from which she had "run" the following day; -the streets had called to their daughter, and she had obeyed. Since then -she had been "rescued" twenty-seven times--by Catholics, Anglicans, -Wesleyans, Methodists, Baptists, and Salvationists--but not even the -great influence of "Our Lady of the Snows" or "The Home of the Guardian -Angels" could save this child of vice, and most Homes in London being -closed against her, she perpetually sought shelter in the various -workhouses of the Metropolis, always being "passed" back to the parish -of the patronymic crab-tree where she was "chargeable." Here she resided -at the expense of the rates, till some lady visitor, struck by her -beauty and seeming innocence, provided her with an outfit and a -situation. - -"Shut up, Daisy!" said one girl, quiet and demure as her namesake -Priscilla. "You're only fit for a pigsty." - -"'The heavens declare the glory of God and the firmament showeth His -handiwork,'" sang Musical Meg, a half-witted girl, who had given two -idiots to the guardianship of the ratepayers. She was possessed of a -soprano voice, very clear and true, and, having been brought up in a -High Church Home, she punctiliously chanted the offices of _Prime_ and -_Compline_, slightly muddling them as her memory was bad. - -"Hold your noise, Meg; we want to hear the tale." - -"'Brethren, be sober, be vigilant, because your adversary the devil as a -roaring lion walketh about, seeking whom he may devour, whom resist, -steadfast in the faith,'" chanted Musical Meg again. - -The door opened and the white-capped attendant entered, leading by the -hand two little girls of about twelve and fourteen, who were sobbing -pitifully. - -"Less noise here, if you please. Meg, you know you have been forbidden -to sing at bedtime. Now, my dears, don't cry any more; get undressed and -into bed at once; you'll see your mother in the morning." - -"Why are you here, duckies? Father run away and left you all starving?" -asked an older woman who had been walking about the room administering -medicine, opening windows, and generally doing the work of wardswoman. - -"Yes," sobbed the children; "they've put mother in another room, and we -are so frightened." - -"There, stop crying, my dears," said Priscilla; "come and look at my -baby." - -"What a lot of babies!" said the elder girl. "Have all your husbands run -away and left you?" - -"Oh, Lor'! child, don't ask questions; get into bed, quick." The -children donned their pink flannelette nightgowns and then knelt down -beside their beds, making the sign of the Cross. There was deep silence, -some of the girls began to cry, "Irish Biddy" threw herself on her knees -and recited the Rosary with sobs and gasps. - - - "Oh, wash me and I shall be whiter than snow, - Whiter than snow, whiter than snow," - - -sang a blear-eyed girl in a raucous, tuneless chant. - -Musical Meg put her fingers to her ears. "You've got the wrong tune, -Rosie; listen, I'll hum it to you," but finding her attempts after -musical correctness were unheeded, she started herself the _Qui habitat_ -of the _Compline_ office. - -"Good Lord, girls!" came the shrill voice of Daisy Crabtree; "what's up -now? It gives me the hump to hear you sniffing and sobbing over your -psalm tunes; let's have something cheerful with a chorus: ''Allo! 'allo! -'allo! it's a different girl again----'" - -"Oh! do be quiet, Daisy; wait until the poor little things has said -their prayers," came the gentle voice of Priscilla. - -"'Different eyes and a different nose----'" - -"Stow that, Daisy, or I'll drive those teeth you're so proud of down -your throat," said the tall wardswoman. - -Temperance Hunt (known to her associates as "Tipsy Tempie," all -unconscious of the classical dignity of the oxymoron) was a clear -starcher and ironer, so skilled in the trade that it was said she could -command her own terms in West End laundries, but like many "shirt and -collar hands," she was given to bouts of terrible drunkenness, during -which she would pawn her furniture and her last rag for gin. Then she -would retire to the workhouse for a time, get some clothes out of the -charitable, sign another pledge, and come forth again, to the comfort -and peace of many households--for the wearers of Tempie's shirts -dressed for dinner without a murmur, and "never said a single 'damn.'" - -Tipsy Tempie was a very powerful woman, and the song died on Daisy's -lips as she came towards her, a threatening light in her eyes. "All -right, keep your 'air on; if I mayn't sing I'll tell you another tale. -When I was in the Haymarket last Boat-race night----" - -"Now, duckies, you go and get washed; your poor faces are all swelled -with crying--can't go to bed like that, you know; we lidies in this ward -are most particular." - -"Please, teacher," said the elder child, "governess downstairs said as -we were to go straight to bed; we had a bath yesterday directly we came -in." - -"Do what I tell you. A little drop of water'll stop the smarting of all -your tears, and you'll get to sleep quicker." - -"Now, then, Daisy," she exclaimed, as the two children obediently -departed, "if you tell any more of your beastly stories before them two -innocent dears, I'll throttle you." - -"Then you will be hung," said Daisy airily. - -"Do you think I'd care? Good riddance of bad rubbish, as can't help -making a beast of itself. But one thing I insists on--don't let us -corrupt these 'ere little girls; we're a bad lot in here; most of you -are--well, I won't say what, for it ain't polite, and I don't 'old with -the pot calling the kettle black, and I know as I'm a drunkard. My -father took me to church hisself and had me christened 'Temperance,' -hoping as that might counterrack the family failing; but drink is in the -blood too deep down for the font-water to get at. Poor father! he -struggled hard hisself; but he kicked my blessed mother wellnigh to -death, and then 'anged hisself in the morning when he found what he -done; so I ain't got no manner of chance, and though I take the pledge -when the lidies ask me, I know it ain't no good. Well, as I said before, -we're a rotten lot, but not so bad that we can't respect little kiddies, -and any one can see that these little girls aren't our sort. I ask you -all--all you who are mothers, even though your children ain't any -fathers in particular--to back me in this." ("'Ear, 'ear!" said -Priscilla.) "I ain't had the advantage some of you have; I ain't been in -twenty-seven religious homes like Daisy, and I don't know psalms and -hymns like Meg; but I've got as strong a pair of fists as ever grasped -irons, and those shall feel 'em who says a word as wouldn't be fit for -the lady Guardian's ears." - -The frightened Daisy had crept meekly into bed; the two little children -came back, and Tempie tucked them up with motherly hands, kissing the -little swollen faces; Musical Meg started a hymn. - -The assistant matron came up from supper, and her brows knitted angrily -as she heard the singing. But at the door of the ward she paused, handle -in hand, for, from the lips of the fallen and the outcast, of the wanton -and the drunkard, led by the strangely beautiful voice of the -half-witted girl, rose the hymn of high Heaven-- - - - Holy, Holy, Holy! Lord God Almighty! - All Thy works shall praise Thy Name, in earth, and sky, and sea; - Holy, Holy, Holy! Merciful and Mighty; - God in Three Persons, Blessed Trinity. - - - - -OLD INKY - - There be two things that grieve my heart; and the third maketh - me angry: - A man of war that suffereth poverty. - - -A cab stood at the door of the workhouse, and a crowd of children and -idlers collected at once. A cab there often contained a lunatic or a -"d.t." case, or some person maimed or unconscious--generally something -sensational. The cabman slashed his whip several times across the window -to apprise the fares of his arrival, but there was no movement from -within, and an enterprising boy, peering in through the closed windows, -announced gleefully: "Why, it's old Inky and his wife, drunk as lords!" - -A volunteer rang the bell, and an aged inmate at once opened the door, -and finding that matters were beyond him, fetched a liveried officer, -who gazed contemptuously at the cabman and asked satirically what he had -got there. - -"I have just driven back the Dook and Duchess of Hinkerman to the quiet -of their suburban residence after the h'arduous festivities of the -season. Her Grace was a little overcome by the 'eat at the crowded -reception of the King of Bohemia, and was compelled to withdraw. I sent -the footman round to the town 'ouse to say as their Graces would not -dine at 'ome this evening, so I must ask you kindly to assist her Grace -to alight." - -The crowd roared loudly at this sally, and the porter, opening the cab -door, drew out an aged and infirm man, whom he dragged off roughly -through the whitewashed lobby. Then he returned for the wife, a shrunken -little body in a state of stupefaction, whom he flung over his shoulder -like a baby, and then the hall door shut with a bang. - -The cabman looked rather crestfallen, and requested that the bell might -be rung again, and again the aged inmate blinked forth helplessly. - -"I am waiting," said the cabman, "for a little gratuity from his Grace; -his own brougham not being in sight, I volunteered my services." - -The liveried officer again appeared, and a heated altercation ensued, in -the midst of which the Master of the workhouse arrived and endeavoured -to cut short the dispute, observing that his workhouse not being Poplar, -he had no power to pay cab fares for drunken paupers out of the rates. -The cabman gulped, and, dropping his Society manner, appealed to the -Master as man to man, asking what there was about his appearance that -caused him to be taken for "such a ---- fool as to have driven a ---- -pair of ---- paupers to a ---- workhouse unless he had seen the colour -of a florin a kind-'earted lady had put into the old man's hand afore -the perlice ran them both in." - -He appealed to the public to decide "whether he looked a greater fool -than he was, or whether they took him for a greater fool than he -looked." In either case, he "scorned the himputation," and if the Master -thought cabmen were so easy to be had he (the Master) had better -withdraw to a wing of his own work'us, where, he understood, a ward was -set apart for the "h'observation of h'alleged lunatics." - -The crowd roared approval, and orders were sent that the old couple -should be searched, and after a breathless ten minutes, spent by the -cabman with his pink newspaper, a florin was brought out by the aged -inmate, reported to have been found in the heel of the old lady's -stocking. The crowd roared and cheered, and the cabman drove off -triumphant, master of the situation. - -I found old "Inky" a few days later sitting in a corner, surly and -sullen and pipeless, having been cut off tobacco and leave of absence -for four weeks. I suppose discipline must be maintained, but there is -something profoundly pathetic in the sight of hoary-headed men and -women, who have borne life's heavy load for seventy and eighty years, -cut off their little comforts and punished like school-children. - -He stood up and saluted at my approach; his manners to what he called -"his betters" were always irreproachable. I brought him a message from a -teetotal friend urging him to take the pledge, but he sniffed -contemptuously; like many a hard drinker, he never would admit the -offence. - -"I warn't drunk, not I; never been drunk in my life. 'Cos why? I've got -a strong 'ed; can take my liquor like a man. Small wonder, though, -ma'am, if we old soldiers do get drunk now and then. Our friends are -good to us and stand us a drop; and we need it now and then when we get -low-spirited, and this work'us and them clothes"--and he glanced -contemptuously at his fustians--"do take the pluck out of a man. We -ain't got nothing to live for and nothing to be proud on; and it takes -our self-respeck--that's what it does--the self-respeck oozes out of our -finger-tips. Old Blowy, at St. Pancras Work'us, 'e says just the same. -Don't you know Old Blowy, ma'am--'im as had the good luck to ride at -Balaclava? I'm told some gentleman's got 'im out of there and boards 'im -out independent for the rest of his life. Can't you get me out, ma'am? I -ain't done nothin' wrong, and 'ere I am in prison. If it weren't for the -missis I'd starve outside. I can play a little mouth-organ and pick up a -few pence, and my pals at the 'King of Bohemia' are very good to me. I -can rough it, but my missis can't--females are different--and so we was -druv in 'ere. The Guardians wouldn't give me the little bit of -out-relief I asked for--four shillings would have done us nicely. They -listened to some foolish women's cackle--teetotal cant, I call it--and -refused me anything. 'Offered the 'Ouse,' as they say; and, though me -and the missis half-clemmed afore we accepted the kind invitation, a -man can't see 'is wife starve; and so 'ere we are--paupers. Yes, I -fought for the Queen"--and he saluted--"Gawd bless 'er! all through the -Crimean War; got shot in the arm at Inkermann and half-frozen before -Sebastopol, and I didn't think as I should come to the work'us in my old -age; but one never knows. The world ain't been right to us old soldiers -since the Queen went. I can't get used to a King nohow, and it's no good -pretending; and Old Blowy at St. Pancras says just the same. I suppose -we're too old. I can't think why the Almighty leaves us all a-mouldering -in the work'uses when she's gone. However, I'm a-going out; I shall take -my discharge, if it's only to spite 'im and show my independent spirit," -and he shook an impotent fist at the Master, who passed through the -hall. "It's warm weather now, and we can sleep about on the 'eath a bit. -We shan't want much to eat--we're too old." - - * * * * * - -A week or so later I heard of the death of old "Inky." He had been found -in a half-dying condition on one of the benches on the heath, and had -been brought by the police into the infirmary, where he passed away -without recovering consciousness. As we "rattled his bones over the -stones" to his pauper grave I said a sincere _Laus Deo_ that another man -of war had been delivered from poverty and the hated workhouse. - - - - -A DAUGHTER OF THE STATE - - Quis est homo, qui non fleret? - - -"No, ma'am, I've never had no misfortune; I'm a respectable girl, I am. -Why am I in the workhouse, then? Well, you see, it was like this: I had -a very wicked temper, and I can't control it somehow when the mistresses -are aggravating, and I runned from my place. I always do run away. No, -there was nothing agen the last mistress--it was just my nasty temper. -Then I got wandering about the streets, and a policeman spoke to me and -took me to a kind lady, and she put me here to prove me, and left me to -learn my lesson. She takes great interest in my case. Yes, Matron says -it is a disgrace for a strong girl to be on the rates, but what am I to -do? I ain't got no clothes and no character, so I suppose I shall always -be here now. No, it ain't nice; we never go out nor see -nothing--leastways, the young women don't. There's no sweet puddings and -no jam. Some of the girls say jail's far better. Yes, I am an orphan--at -least, father died when I was very little, and the Board gentlemen put -me and my brothers into the schools. No, I never heard any more of -them. Mother came to see me at first, but she ain't been nor wrote for -five years; perhaps she is dead or married again. No, I don't know how -old I am; Matron says she expects about eighteen. Oh, yes, I have been -in places. The Board ladies got me my first place at a butcher's, only -he was always coming after me trying to kiss me, and the missis did not -seem to like it somehow and she cut up nasty to me, and there was words -and I went off in a temper. No gentleman! I should think not. A damned -low scoundrel I call him. I beg your pardon, ma'am, I know 'damned' -isn't a word for ladies. I ain't an ignorant girl, but there's worse -said in the Young Women's Room sometimes. Then after that the Salvation -Army took me in and found me a place in a boarding-house. Heaps to do I -had, and such a lot of glasses and plates and things for every meal. I -always got muddled laying the table, and the missis had an awful nasty -temper, quite as bad as mine, and one day she blew me up cruel, and I -ran away. Then this time some nuns took me to their Home, and there I -made a great mistake; I thought it was a Church of England Home, but -they was Cartholics. Oh, yes, the nuns were very kind to me--real good -ladies--but the lady who takes an interest in my case said as I had made -a great mistake; I don't know why except that I always was a Church of -England girl. No, ma'am, I hope I may never make a worse mistake--for -they was good, and they sang beautiful in the chapel. Then the nuns -found a place for me with two old homespun people; they was very dull -and often ill, and I was always getting muddled over the spoons and -forks, an that made them _urri_table, and one day I felt so low-spirited -and nasty-tempered that I ran away again. The worst of places for me is, -no porters sit at the front doors and I run away before I think, and -then I get no character. But this time I have been proved, and I have -learnt my lesson. I won't do it any more. No, ma'am, I never knew I -could be taken to the police-courts just for running away--none of the -ladies never told me; I thought you were only copped for murders and -stealing. Daisy White--she pinched her missis's silk petticoat to go out -in on Sunday, and now she's out of jail no one won't have her any more. -But it's mostly misfortunes that brings girls here, and fits of course. -Blanche, that big girl with the squint eye, went off in a fit yesterday -as we were scrubbing the wards. No, I don't have no fits, and I'm honest -as the day. Would I be a good girl and not run away if you get me a -place? Oh, ma'am, only try me. The kind ladies quote textesses to me, -but they never get me a job. No, I don't mind missing my dinner. Matron -will keep it hot for me, but it's only suet pudding to-day with very -little sugar. In situations they give you beautiful sweet puddings -nearly every day, and Juliet Brown--she that's in with her third -misfortune--she says she's lived with lords and ladies near the King's -Palace at Buckingham--at least, she pretends she has--well, she says in -her places the servants had jam with their tea every day. - -"No, I haven't got no clothes but these workhouse things, but Matron -keeps a hat and jacket to lend to girls who ain't got none. Oh! it is -beautiful to see the sun shining, and the shops, and the horses, and the -ladies walking about, and the dear little children. I love children. -Often when the Labour Mistress wasn't about I ran up to the nursery to -kiss the babies. Juliet's third misfortune is a lovely boy with curls. I -haven't been out of doors for three months--the young women mayn't go -out in the workhouse, only the old people--so you can guess I like it: -but the air makes me hungry. We had our gruel at seven this morning. We -don't have no tea for breakfast, but girls do in situations, I know, and -as much sugar as they like--at least, in most places. Thank you, ma'am, -I should love a bun. I love cakes. Yes; I have a cold in my head, and I -ain't got no pocket-handkerchief. I've lost it, and it wasn't very -grand. An old bit of rag I call it. It would be so kind of you to buy me -one, ma'am. I know it looks bad to go to see ladies without one. I ain't -an ignorant girl; the kind lady who takes an interest in my case always -said so. Isn't that barrel-organ playing beautiful! It makes me want to -dance, only I don't know how. Daisy White--she that pinched the silk -petticoat--can dance beautiful; some of us sing tunes in the Young -Women's Room, and she'd dance. I love music--that's why I liked the -Cartholic Home best; the nuns sang lovely in the chapel. - -"Is this the house? Ain't it lovely! I never saw such a beautiful -droring-room in all my life. Just look at the carpet and the flowers and -the pictures! Ain't that a beautiful one, ma'am, with the trees and the -water running down the rocks, and the old castle at the back! The nuns -at the Cartholic Home once took us an excursion by train to a place just -like that, and whilst we were having our tea the old castle turned -sudden all yellow in the sun--just like Jerusalem the Golden. - -"Do you think the lady will have me, ma'am? I shan't never want to run -away here. I will be a good girl, ma'am; I promise I will be good." - - - - -IN THE PHTHISIS WARD - - Why, O my God, hast Thou forsaken Me? - Not so My mother; for behold and see, - She steadfast stands! O Father, shall it be - That she abides when Thou forsakest Me? - - -Three days of frost had brought the customary London fog--dense, yellow, -and choking. Londoners groped their way about with set, patient faces, -breaking out, however, into wild jubilation in the bowels of the earth, -where the comparative purity and brightness of the atmosphere of the -Tube railway seemed to rush to their heads like cheap champagne. - -In the Open-air Ward of the workhouse infirmary the sufferers coughed -and choked away their last strength in the poisonous atmosphere; the -cold was very great, but the fever in their veins kept the patients -warm, though the nurses went about blue and shivering, and on the side -of the ward open to the elements the snow had drifted in, melted, and -frozen again, making a perilous slide for the unwary. The sky was black -as at midnight, but according to the clock the long night had ended, the -long day had begun, the patients were washed, the breakfast was served, -and a few, who were well enough, got up, dressed themselves, and -occupied themselves with a book or paper. One man worked furiously at -rug-making, his knotted fingers dragging the hanks of wool through the -canvas as if his life depended on speed. By the side of the ward open to -the fog lay a young man so wasted and shrunken that he looked almost -like a child. When the nurse brought him his breakfast he raised his -head eagerly: "Has mother come?" - -"Why, Teddy, you're dreaming! Your mother has only just gone; it's -morning, my dear, and she had to get back to the factory; but she'll be -here again this evening, never fear. You have a mother in ten thousand, -lucky boy! Now get your breakfast." - -Teddy's head fell back again in apathetic indifference, and he listened -forlornly to a dispute between two men who had been playing dominoes. -One had accused the other of cheating, and an angry wrangle had arisen, -till at length the nurse had stepped in and stopped the game. - -Later on the same men began to dispute about horse-racing, and the -world-renowned names of Ladas and Persimmon and Minoru, etc., figured -largely. - -"I tell you Persimmon was the King's 'oss, and he won the Derby in 1898. -I know I'm right, because it was the year I got the Scripture Prize at -Netherwood Street." - -"No, that warn't till 1900, and I'll tell you why--" - -"I tell you it war!" - -"I tell you it warn't!" - -Again the nurse intervened, and tried to distract the disputants with a -copy of a newspaper, but the warfare was renewed after her back was -turned, to the amusement or irritation of the sufferers. - -In the farther corner of the ward a man in delirium raved and -blasphemed, occasionally giving rapid character-sketches of some -woman--not complimentary either to her taste or morals; then he would -relapse into semi-unconsciousness and wake with a loud, agonized cry for -his mother. - -In the afternoon a visitor came to see Teddy Wilson. Teddy had sung in -the choir and his vicar called often to visit him. Teddy had been a -prize-scholar of the L.C.C. schools; from scholarship to scholarship he -had passed to a lawyer's office in the City; and then one day he had -begun to cough and to shiver, and the hospital to which he had been -taken had seen that phthisis was galloping him to the grave. They did -not keep incurable cases, and Teddy had been passed on to die in the -workhouse infirmary. When Teddy found himself a pauper he had raged -furiously and futilely, and the gallop to the grave went at double pace. -He lifted his head eagerly when the nurse brought the clergyman to his -bedside. "Has mother come?" he asked, and then fell back apathetically. -Yes, he was getting better; it was only the remains of pleurisy. Would -he like prayers read? Oh, yes, he didn't mind. Teddy was always docile. - -Screens were fetched, and the clergyman knelt down by his bedside. The -two men noisily resumed their quarrel about horse-racing in order to -show their contempt for the Church, till the nurse stuck thermometers -into their mouths to secure some silence. - -The man in delirium raved on, cursing in picturesque variety the woman -of his love and hate. All around the sick and dying coughed and choked -in their agonized struggle for breath. - -"Consider his contrition, accept his tears, assuage his pain.... We -humbly commend the soul of this Thy servant, our dear brother, into Thy -hands.... Wash it, we pray Thee, in the blood of the immaculate Lamb ... -that whatsoever defilements it may have contracted in the midst of this -miserable and naughty world ... it may be presented pure and without -spot before Thee." - -As the vicar read on silence fell upon the ward; the question of -Persimmon was dropped, and even the delirious man ceased to blaspheme -and lay quiet for a time. It seemed to the young priest as if the peace -of God for which he had prayed had fallen upon this place of pain and -terror. - -Before he went he stopped for a word or a hand-shake with the patients, -and settled the vexed question of Persimmon's victory. - -"Fancy his knowing that!" said the first disputant. "Not so bad for a -devil-dodger." - -"They aren't all quite fools. There was a bloke down at Bethnal Green, a -real good cricketer and sportsman; they've made him a bishop now, and -as I allus says, there's bigger liars knocking about London than that -there bishop." - -After tea visitors began to arrive; most of the patients in the Open-air -Ward were on the danger list and could see their friends at any time, -and now at the close of the day fathers and mothers and wives and -sweethearts were coming straight from factory and workshop to comfort -their sick. Teddy Wilson, propped up with pillows, watched the door, and -presently, when a frail little woman entered, the faces of both mother -and son lit up with the light of joy and love ineffable. - -"At last!" said Teddy. "Oh, mother, you have been long!" - -"I came straight from the factory, dear. I did not even wait for a cup -of tea or to get washed. Here are some grapes for you." - -The grapes were best hot-house--the poor always give recklessly--and -Mrs. Wilson and a bright-eyed little girl who was sweeping up -scholarships and qualifying as a typist and _tisica_ would go short of -food for a week. - -Ten years ago Mr. Wilson had grown weary of monogamy and had -disappeared. His wife, scorning charity and the parish, had starved and -fought her own way. Latterly she had found employment at the tooth -factory, but food was not abundant on a weekly wage varying from seven -to fifteen shillings, and the L.C.C. had worked the brains of the -growing children on a diet chiefly of dry bread and tea. - -Through the long night she sat by her son--the long night of agony and -suffering which she was powerless to relieve--and the nurse, who was -reputed a hard woman, looked at her with tearful eyes, and muttered to -herself: "Thank God, I never bore a child!" - -In the early hours of morning Teddy began to sing, in strange, raucous -fashion, fragments of oratorios. "'My God, my God,'" sang Teddy in the -recitative of Bach's Passion music, "'why hast Thou forsaken Me?' Oh, -mother, don't leave me!" - -The next time the nurse came round Teddy lay quiet, and his mother -looked up with eyes tearless and distraught. "He has stopped coughing," -she said; "I think I am glad." - - - - -AN IRISH CATHOLIC - - Godliness is great riches if a man be content with that which he - hath. - - -"God bless all the kind ratepayers for my good dinner and a good cup o' -tay to wash it down with, and a nice bit of fire this cold day. You -paupers never give thanks unto the Lord, a nasty Protestant lot without -a ha'porth of manners between you, a-cursing and swearing, and -blaspheming; they have not the grace of God. Say 'Good afternoon' to the -lady, Betsy Brown, and don't be so rude; they never do have a word of -thanks to the kind ladies and gentlemen who come a-visiting them, and we -don't get many visitors just now; all the dear ladies are away -a-paddling in the ocean. The gentleman Guardians come sometimes, but -they are not so chatty as the ladies, don't seem to know what to say to -us old women. You don't happen to have a bit of snuff about you, my -lady?--excuse me asking you, but some of the ladies carries a bit for -me. I ain't allowed my pipe in here, and I misses it cruel; at first I -had gripes a-seizing my vitals through missing the comfort of a bit of -'baccy, and the doctor he seemed much gratified with the symtims of my -sufferings, and says I was attacked by the pensis, I think he termed -it, the royal disease of the King, and he was all for cutting me up at -once. But I up and says, 'Young man, don't talk to your elders. It's -nothing but my poor hinnards a-craving for a pipe and a drop o' Irish, -and you'll kindly keep your knives and hatchets off me. The King can be -cut up if he likes, but I'll go before my Judge on the Resurrection -morning with my poor old body undisfigured by gaping holes and wounds!' -Yes, I frets cruel in the work'us, lady. If I could only get away back -to Kensington, where I belong, I'd be all right. I have no friends -here--only you and the Almighty God. I'm a poor old blind Irishwoman, -lady; and my sons is out in Ameriky and seems to have forgotten the -mother that bore them, and my husband's been dead these forty years, and -he was not exakly one to thank God for on bare knees--God rest his poor -black sowl! Yes, I've been blind now these thirty years (I was ninety on -the Feast of the Blessed Lady of Mount Carmel), and one day in the -winter we'd just been saying Mass for the sowl of the Cardinal Newman, -and when I got back home I put up a bit of gunpowder to clane the -chimbly, which smoked cruel (I always was a decent, clane body) and the -wicked stuff turned round on me very vindictious, and blew down into the -room, burning red-hot into my poor, innocent eyes. They cut one out at -St. Bartholomew's 'Orspital, and they hoped to save the other, but it -took to weeping itself away voluntarious, and a-throbbing like -steam-engines, and the young chaps fetched it out a few weeks later. -But I'm a very happy blind woman. Yes, lady, it was dreadful at first, -and I'll not deny that the cross seemed too heavy for my poor back--as -if God Himself had forsaken me--great, black, thundering darkness all -round as I couldn't cut a peep-show in nohow. All night I'd be a raging -and a-fighting to get one little ray of light, and then I'd howl and -shriek to the Blessed Virgin and all the saints, and then I'd curse and -blaspheme and call to all the devils in hell; but no one heard, and the -darkness continued dark. But, glory be to the saints! it's astonishing -how used you get to things. At the end of a couple of months you seems -to forget as there was ever anything else but darkness around, and by -the grace of God and the favour of the angels I gets about most -nimblous. No, I don't belong to this parish at all; that's why I hopes -one day to get sixpence and get back to Kensington. But, you see, lady, -it was like this--I came up to call on my poor sister at the top of the -hill, and when I got there they told me she was dead and buried (God -rest her sowl!), and the shock was so great I fell down overcome, as you -may say, by emotion, and a kind gentleman picked me up and brought me in -here, and there I lay stretched out on a bed of pain with a great bruise -all down my poor side, and my poor hinnards a-struggling amongst -theirselves for a bit of comfort, which they've never got since I've -been here, and the young chap of a doctor a-talking in long and -indecent words to the nusses. (I hear you inmates a-smiling again!) But -I was not in liquor lady--s'help me it's God's truth! (May your lips -stiffen for ever, sitting there a-grinning and a-mocking at God's -truth!) I've allus been a sober woman, and I've always conducted myself. -(God blast you all, and your children and children's children!) Yes, my -lady, I know it's not a prison and I can take my discharge; but, you -see, I don't know the way to the 'bus as'll take me to Kensington, and I -ain't got sixpence--a most distressful and unpleasant circumstance not -to have sixpence. May the Holy Mother preserve you in wealth and -prosperity so that you may never know! If I had sixpence of my own do -you think I'd stay in this wicked Bastille, ordered about by the ladies -of the bar? I calls them ladies of the bar, not as they ever give you a -drop to cheer you, but because as they is puffed up with vanity and -three-ha'porth of starched linen. Yes, my lady, I know as they calls -theirselves nusses, but when you're ninety you won't like to be ordered -about by a parcel of girls. Oh, my lady, if you would only put me in the -'bus that goes to Kensington and give me a sixpence here in my poor old -hand, then may the Blessed Mother keep you for ever, you and your good -children, and may the crown of glory that is waiting for you before the -Great White Throne be studded with di'monds and rubies brighter than the -stars! How could I get on? I'd be all right if I only got to Kensington; -there's the praists!--God love 'em!--they knows me and helps me, and -kind ladies who give me the tickets for meat and groceries; and there's -the landlord of the 'Fish and Quart'--he'll be near you, lady, before -the Great White Throne--and on wet days, when the quality don't come -out, I go round to him and there's always a bite and a sup for old -Bridget. I hear you paupers smiling again, but believe me, lady, it is -the black wickedness of their iniquitous hearts. Ask the perlice, -lady--God bless the bhoys for leading the old pauper over many a -tumultuous street!--they will tell you my excellent character for -temperance and sobriety and cleanliness. They give me a paper from -Scotland Yard, which lets me walk in the High Street. I sells nothing -and I asks nothing, but I just stands, and the ladies and gentlemen -rains pennies in my hand thick as hail in May-time. And do I get enough -to live on? I should think I did, and enough to fill the belly of -another woman who clanes my room and cooks my food and leads me about. -No, I shan't get run over by no motor-car. The Lord may have taken the -sight of my eyes, but He has left me an uncommon sharp pair of ears and -a nose like a ferret, and by this special mercy I can hear the things -stinking and rampaging long afore they're near me. You needn't be afeard -for me, lady--old Bridget can take care of herself, being always a sober -and temperate woman. Any one who tells you different in this wicked -Bastille is a liar and a slanderer, a child of the Devil and Satan, who -shall have their portion in hell-fire. Matron says I've no clothes, -does she?--and after the beautiful dress as I came up to see my poor -sister with? Yes, I know as I must have a decent gown on in a -fashionable neighbourhood. I like to be in the fashion, even if I am -blind; but you'll find me an old one of yours, lady, and I shall look so -beautiful in it the bhoys will be all for eloping with me as I stand. - -"Most peculiar joyful feeling there is about a sixpence if you've not -felt one these fower months. The other night I'd been worriting my poor -old head shocking all day how to get sixpence in this den of paupers, -and when I fell asleep I had a vision of our Blessed Lady a-smiling most -gracious like and a-stretching out a silver sixpence bright as the glory -round her most blessed head. I cried cruel when I woke, sixpence seemed -so far off; but now, thanks be to God and to all His howly angels, my -dream is true!" - - - - -AN OBSCURE CONVERSATIONIST - - Out of the night that covers me, - Black as the Pit from pole to pole, - I thank whatever gods may be - For my unconquerable soul. - - * * * * * - - It matters not how strait the gate, - How charged with punishments the scroll, - I am the master of my fate; - I am the captain of my soul. - - -"Aye, lass, but you ain't been to see me for a long time, and me been -that queer and quite a fixture in bed all along of catching cold at that -funeral. Been abroad, have you? Oh, well, you're welcome, for I've been -a bit upset about not seeing you and because of a dream I 'ad. I dreamt -I was up in 'eaven all along of the Great White Throne and the golden -gates, with 'oly angels all around a-singing most vigorous. Mrs. Curtis -was there, and my blessed mother and my niece Nellie and the Reverent -Walker--you know the Reverent Walker, ma'am, 'im as I sits under?--yes, -I like little Walker, what there is of him to like, for I wish he was -bigger; but he was all right in my dream, larger than life, with a crown -on 'im; but I missed some of you, and I says to myself: 'Mrs. Nevinson -ain't 'ere,' so I'm glad, lass, as you're safe like. - -"Yes, I've been that queer I couldn't know myself, and though I'm better -I'm that bone-lazy I can't move, but I'll be all right again soon and -I'll get those petticoats of yourn finished which I am ashamed of having -cluttering about still. I've 'ad what's called brownchitis. Mrs. Curtis -fetched the doctor when I was took bad, and they built me up a sort of -tent with a sheet, and a kettle a-spitting steam at me through a roll of -brown paper they fixed on the spout, and I 'alf-killed myself with -laughing at such goings-on. I was that hot and smothered I had to get up -in the middle of the night and get to the open window to take a breath -of fog, for you can't call it air; I felt just like a boiled lobster. I -ain't had nothing to do with doctors before and I don't understand their -ways. This young chap 'e got 'old on a piece of wood and planked it down -on my chest with 'is ear clapped to the other end. 'Say ninety-nine,' 'e -says as grave as a judge. 'Sir,' I says, 'I'm not an imbecile, and not -having much breath to spare I'll keep it to talk sense.' - -"He burst hisself with laughing, and then 'e catches 'old on my 'and as -men do when they go a-courting. 'Sir,' I says, 'a fine young chap like -you 'ad better 'ang on with some young wench.' - -"He guffawed again fit to split 'isself. 'It's a treat to come and see -you,' 'e says, 'but you're really ill this time, you know, and you ought -to go into the infirmary and get properly nursed up.' 'Never,' I says, -'never!' and 'e went away cowed like. - -"No, lass, I ain't a-going to no work'us with poor critturs a-gasping -and a-groaning all round. I've kept myself to myself free and -independent all my life, and free and independent I'll die. Little -Walker catched it 'ot the other day sending a sort of visiting lady -'ere--the Organization lady she calls 'erself, so Mrs. Curtis said. -Well, she asked so many questions and wanted to know why I had not had -thrift, as she called it, that I turned on 'er and I says: 'I think -you've made a little mistake in the number. I ain't got no 'idden crime -on my conscience, but I'm a lady of independent means, and must ask for -the peace and quiet which is due to wealth.' - -"I was that angry with the Reverend Walker!--did it for the best, he -said, thought as I might have got a little 'elp from the Organization if -I hadn't been so rude. The very idea! I 'ate help. I've hung by mine own -'ed like every proper herring and human ought to, and when I can't 'ang -no longer I'll drop quiet and decent into my grave. - -"No, I never got married--what I saw of men in service did not exactly -set me coveting my neighbours' husbands, a set of big babies as must -have the moon if they want it--to say nothing of the wine, and the -women, and the trotting horses, and the betting on them silly cards. -Besides, to tell the truth, lass, no man of decent stature ever asked me -to wed; being a big woman, all the little scrubs came a-following me, -but I would not go with any of them, always liking Grenadier Guards, six -foot at least. Perhaps it was as well; I should never have had patience -to put up with a man about the place, being so masterful myself; -besides, ain't I been sort of father and 'usband to my sister Cordelia? -Mother died when Cordelia was born, and she says to me: 'Ruth, take care -of this 'elpless babby,' and, God help me! I done my best, though the -poor girl made a poor bargain with life, 'er husband getting queerer and -more cantankerous, wandering the country up and down as fast as they -brought 'im 'ome and having to be shut up in Colney Hatch at the end. I -was not going to satisfy that Organization lady's curiosity and boast -how I helped to bring up that family, and a deal of 'thrift' that lady -would have managed on the two shillings a week I kept of my wages, the -missus often passing the remark that, considering the good money she -paid, she liked her servants better dressed. Cordelia was left with -three little ones, and I couldn't abide the thought of 'er coming to the -parish and having them nice little kids took from 'er and brought up in -them work'us schools, so I agreed to give 'er eight shillings week out -of my wages, and that with the twelve shillings she got cooking at the -'Pig and Whistle' kept the 'ome together. Poor lass! she's had no luck -with her boys either, poor Tim going off weak in his head and having to -be put away, and Jonathan killed straight off at Elandslaagter with a -bullet through his brain. Yes, there's Ambrose--no, I don't ask Ambrose -to help me; 'e's got his mother to 'elp and a heavy family besides. No, -I don't take food out of the stomachs of little children, a-stunting of -their growth, as nothing can be done for them later, and a-starving of -their brains--I pulls my belt a bit tighter, thank you. Yes, I know what -I am talking about--didn't I spend nearly every Sunday afternoon for -nigh on twenty years at Colney Hatch? Well, the will of the Lord be -done--but why if He be Almighty He lets folks be mad when He might -strike 'em dead has always puzzled and tried my faith. - -"Yes, I lives on my five-shilling pension and what my last master left -me; half a crown rent doesn't leave me much for food. I allus had a good -appetite, I'm sorry to say, and I often dream of grilled steaks--not -since the brownchitis, though; I'm all for lemons and fizzy drinks. The -folks 'ere are very kind and often bring me some of their dinner, but -Lord! they are poor cooks, and if their 'usbands drink I for one ain't -surprised. I can grill a steak with any one, and I attribute my -independent income to my steaks; at my last place the master thought the -world of them, and when there was rumpuses in the kitchen I used to hear -'im say: 'Sack the whole blooming lot, but remember Brooks stays,' and -stay I did till the old gentleman died and remembered his steaks in his -will. - -"Well, I was going to tell you how I caught this cold, only you will -keep on interrupting of me. I saw as how there was going to be a funeral -at St. Paul's, and I thought I'd go. I allus was one for looking at men, -and having been kitchen-maid at York Palace, I took on a taste for -cathedrals and stained windows and music and such-like, as a sort of -respite from the troubles and trials of life. - -"It was just beautiful to hear the organ play and to see the gold cross -carried in front of the dear little chorister-boys, and I says to -myself: 'Their mas are proud of them this day.' Then came the young -chaps who sing tenor and bass--fine upstanding young men--and then the -curates with their holy faces, but at the end were the bishops and deans -and such-like, and they were that h'old and h'ugly I was quite ashamed. - -"Well, I thought I'd treat myself to a motor-bus after my long walk. The -young chap says: 'Don't go up top, mother, you'll catch cold.' 'Thank -you kindly,' I says, 'but I ain't a 'ot-house plant, being born on the -moors,' and up I went, but Lor'! I hadn't reckoned how the wind cut -going the galloping pace we went; it petrified to the negrigi, as poor -mother used to say--no, I don't know where the negrigi is--but take off -your fur-coat top of a motor-bus in a vehement east wind and perhaps -you'll feel. - -"Yes, that's little Walker's bell a-going--it ain't a wedding and it -ain't a funeral; it's a kind of prayers that he says, chiefly to -'isself, at five o'clock--'e's 'Igh Church. - -"Must you be going? Well, come again soon; being country yourself, you -understands fresh air as folk brought up among chimbleys can't be -expected to--but don't worry me about no infirmaries, for I ain't -a-going, so there! - -"Mrs. Curtis has her orders, and when I'm took worse she's to put me in -the long train that whistles and goes to York--yes, I've saved up the -railway fare, and from there I can get 'ome and die comfortable on the -moor with plenty of air and the peace of God all around." - - * * * * * - -The landlady came to open the door for me as I went down the -well-scrubbed staircase. "Yes, ma'am, Miss Brooks is better, but she's -very frail; the doctor thinks as she can't last much longer, but her -conversation continues as good as ever. My old man or one of my sons -goes up to sit with her every evening; she's such good company she saves -them the money for the 'alls, and makes them laugh as much as Little -Tich. We'll take care of her, ma'am; the Reverent Walker told me to get -whatever she wanted, and 'e'd pay, and all the folks are real fond of -her in the house, she's that quick with her tongue. - -"No, ma'am, she'll never get to York, she's too weak, but the doctor -told me to humour her." - - - - -MOTHERS - - For the hurt of the daughter of my people am I hurt; ... - astonishment hath taken hold on me. Is there no balm in Gilead; is - there no physician there? why then is not the health of the - daughter of my people recovered? - - -Every first Monday of the month a trainload of shabby, half-starved -women moves southwards from London to one of our great Poor Law schools; -and perhaps in the whole world, spite of poverty, hunger, and rags, -there is no more joyous band. For two blessed hours they meet their -children again, and though later they return weary, hungry, and -heart-sore, nothing is allowed to mar the joy of the present, for the -poor are great philosophers, and hold in practice as well as in theory -that "an ounce of pleasure is worth a peck of pain." - -Humour exudes from every pore; triumphs are related on all -sides--triumphs over civil authorities, triumphs over Boards of -Guardians, triumphs over "Organization ladies" and "cruelty men"; and -methods are discussed as to the best way of triumphing over the school -authorities and conveying sweets and cakes to the children. - -"Yes, 'e kept 'is word and had me up, but I said as I was a widder, and -had to keep the girl at 'ome to mind the sick children, and the beak -dismissed the summons, and I came out and danced a jig under 'is nose. -'Done you again, old chap,' I says, and 'e looked fit to eat me. - -"'E's a good sort, our chairman, with a terrible soft spot in his heart -for widows. We allus says you have only got to put on a widow's crape -and you can get what you like out of him; so Mrs. James upstairs--she's -been a milliner, you know--she rigged me out with a little bonnet, and a -long crape fall, and a white muslin collar, and she pulled my 'air out -loose round my ears, and gave me a 'andkerchief with an inch border of -black, and she says, 'There, Mrs. Evans, there ain't a bloke on the -Board as won't say you are a deserving case,' and sure enough they went -and did just as I told them as good as gold. If I'd my time over again -I'd come into the world a widder born." - -"Just what I says. When Spriggs was alive we were half-clemmed, but -nothing could we get from the parish, 'cos they said 'e was an -able-bodied man. Spriggs wasn't a lazy man, and 'e did try for work, and -he wasn't a drunkard though 'e did fall down under the motor-bus, one of -his mates standing 'im a drink on a empty stomach, which we all knows -flies quicker to the 'ead. It don't seem right as married ladies -a-carrying the kiddies should always go 'ungry, but it's the fact. Since -Spriggs was took and the inquest sat on 'im we've had enough, but it's -too late to save the little 'un, who was born silly, and Ernest was put -away in Darenth, and I always says it was being starved, and the teacher -always a-caning of 'im because 'e couldn't learn on an empty stomach." - -"Best not to marry, I says, and then if 'e falls out of work we can go -to the parish and get took in on our own, and you don't 'ave to keep 'im -later on. Did you 'ear about Mrs. Moore? Mrs. Moore was our landlady, -and 'er 'usband went off about three year ago with the barmaid at 'The -Bell'; the perlice tells 'er as she must come in the 'Ouse whilst they -looked for 'im, but she said she wouldn't, not if it was ever so, and -she was glad to be rid of bad rubbish. So she went to 'er old missis, -who lent her money to set up a lodging-house, and, being a good cook, -she soon had a 'ouseful, and brings up the three little ones clean and -well-behaved like ladies' children. Then the Guardians sent the other -day to say as Moore had been taken off to Colney Hatch, mad with drink -and wickedness, and she'd got to pay for 'im in there. Well, Mrs. Moore -went to appear afore the Board. Lord! we 'alf split ourselves with -laughing when she was a-telling us about it; she's got a tongue in 'er -head, as cooks have, I notice; the heat affects their tempers; and she -went off in one of 'er tantrums and fair frighted them. - -"'I'm sure you'd like to pay for your 'usband, Mrs. Moore,' says the -little man wot sits in the big chair. - -"'I'm quite sure I shouldn't,' says Mrs. Moore; ''e's never been a -'usband to me, pawning the 'ome and drinking and carrying-on with other -women shocking. 'E promised to support me, 'e did: "with all my worldly -goods I thee endow," and lies of that sort, but I made no such promise, -and I won't do it. Working 'ard as I can I just keep a roof and get food -for the four of us, and if you takes a penny out of me I don't pay it, -and I drops the job, and comes into the 'Ouse with Claude and Ruby and -Esmeralda, and lives on the ratepayers, same as other women, which I 'as -a right to, being a deserted woman for three years, while 'e kep 'is -barmaids--or they kep 'im, which is probable if I knows Moore. And my -young Claude being a cripple for life, 'is father kicking 'im when he -was a crawler in one of 'is drunken fits. You may fine me and imprison -me, and 'ang me by the neck till I am dead, but not a 'apenny shall you -get out of me.' - -"They told her to be quiet, but she wouldn't, and they pushed 'er out of -the room and into the street, still talking, and quite a crowd came -round and listened to 'er, and they all says, 'Quite right; don't you -pay it, my gal,' and she didn't, and no one ain't asked 'er any more -about it. She fair frighted that Board of Guardians, she says. She's a -fine talker, is Mrs. Moore, and nothing stops 'er when she's once -started." - -"I'm another who's done better since mine died," said a frail little -woman on crutches, with a red gash across her throat from ear to ear, -"and 'e was a real good 'usband, as came 'ome regular and did 'is duty -to us all till he lost his work through the firm bankrupting, and not a -job could 'e get again. And somehow, walking about all day with nothing -in 'is inside, and 'earing the kids always crying for bread, seemed to -turn 'im savage and queer in 'is head. 'E took to sleeping with a -carving-knife under the pillow, and hitting me about cruel. I knew it -was only trouble, and didn't think wrong of the man, but I went to ask -the magistrate for advice just what to do, as I thought 'is brain was -queer, and yet didn't want 'im put away. And the beak said 'e didn't -think much of a black eye, and I'd better go 'ome and make the best of -'im. Just what I did, but 'e got worse, and the Organization lady said -as we must go to the 'Ouse, or she'd have the cruelty man on us. And -Jack got wild and said 'e wasn't so cruel as to have bred paupers, and -they should go with 'im to a better land, far, far away. That night 'e -blazed out shocking, as you know, for it was all in _Lloyd's News_, and -cut little Daisy's throat, and rushed at H'albert, killing them dead. -I'd an awful struggle with 'im, but I jumped out of the window just in -time, though my throat was bleeding fearful, and I broke both legs with -the fall. The perlice came then, but it was too late; 'e'd done for -'imself and the two children, though I always give thanks to Mrs. Dore, -who came in whilst 'e was wrestling with me, and took off the little -ones and locked them up in the top-floor back. I done better since -then--the Board's took Amy and Leonard, and I manage nicely on my twelve -shillings a week, with only Cholmondeley and the baby to look after. But -it don't seem right somehow." - -"No, it ain't right; married ladies ought not to go short, but we always -do. Boards and Organization ladies think as men keeps us. Granny says -they most always did in her day, and rich people does still, I suppose, -but it ain't the fashion down our street, and it falls 'eavy on the -woman what with earning short money and being most always confined. My -son says as it's the laws as is old, and ought to be swept somewhere -into limbo, not as I understands it, being no scholard." - -"Here we are at last! Ain't it a joyful sight to see the 'eavens and the -earth, and no 'ouses in between; it always feels like Sunday in the -country." - - - - -"YOUR SON'S YOUR SON" - - My little son is my true lover-- - It seems no time ago since he was born. - I know he will be quick and happy to discover - The world of other women and leave me forlorn! - Sometimes I think that I'll be scarcely human - If I can brook his chosen woman! - - _Anna Wickham._ - - -"Oh, dear! oh, dear!" wailed the old lady, burying her face in her -pocket-handkerchief; "to think as I've lived to see the day! I've always -lived with 'Orace, and I've always prayed that the Lord would take me -unto Himself before I was left alone with my grey hairs. A poor, pretty -thing she is, too, with a pair of blue eyes and frizzled yellow curls, -dressed out beyond her station in cheap indecencies of lace showing her -neck and arms, as no proper-minded girl should. And she won't have me to -live with them--I who have never been parted from 'Orace not one day -since he was born thirty year ago come Sunday. Yes, I've got Esther; -she's away in service: she's Johnson's child; I've buried two husbands, -both of them railway men and both of them dying violent deaths. Johnson -was an engine-driver on the Great Northern, and he smashed 'isself to a -jelly in that accident near York nigh on forty year ago now. I said I'd -never marry on the line again, hating accidents and blood about the -place; however, it's a bit lonesome being a widow when you're young, and -Thompson courted me so faithful at last I gave in. He was 'Orace's -father, a guard on the Midland, and he went to step on his van after the -train was off, as is the habit of guards--none of them ever getting -killed as I ever heard of except Thompson, who must needs miss his -footing and fall on the line, a-smashing of his skull fearful. Yes; I -drew two prizes in the matrimonial market--good, steady men, as always -came 'ome punctual and looked after the jennies in the window-boxes, and -played with the children; but, as Mrs. Wells says, them is the sort as -gets killed. If a woman gets 'old on a brute she may be quite sure he'll -come safe through all perils both on land and water, and live to torture -several unfortunate women into their graves. 'Orace was a toddling babe -then, and Esther just ten years older. Fortunately, I was a good hand at -the waistcoat-making, and so I managed to keep the 'ome going; 'Orace -was always very clever, and he got a scholarship and worked 'isself up -as an electrical engineer. One of the ladies got Esther a place at Copt -Hall, Northamptonshire, when she was only thirteen, and she's done well -ever since, being cook now to Lady Mannering at thirty-six pounds a -year. No, she's never got married, Esther--a chap she walked out with -wasn't as faithful as he should have been, a-carrying on with another at -the same time; and Esther took on awful, I believe, though she's one as -holds her tongue, is Esther--at all events, she's never had naught to do -with chaps since. She's a good girl, is Esther; but 'Orace and me were -always together, and he always was such a one to sit at home with me -working at his wires and currents and a-taking me to see all the -exhibitions, and explaining to me about the positives and negatives and -the volts and ampts; he never went after girls, and I always hoped as he -would never fall in love with mortal woman, only with a current; so it -knocked all the heart out of me when he took to staying out in the -evenings, and then brought the girl in one night as his future wife. -'Orace was the prettiest baby you ever see'd, and when he used to sit on -my knee, with his head all over golden curls, like a picture-book, I -used to hate to think that somewhere a girl-child was growing up to take -him from me--and to think it's come now, just when I thought I was safe -and he no more likely to marry than the Pope of Rome, being close on -thirty, and falling in love for the first time! And she won't have me to -live with them! - -"Mrs. Wells has been telling me I mustn't stand in the young people's -way. Of course I don't want to stand in their way; but I'm wondering how -I'll shift without 'Orace; he always made the fire and brought me a cup -of tea before he went to his work; and when the rheumatics took me bad -he'd help me dress and be as handy as a woman. I can't get the work I -used to; my eyesight isn't what it was, and my fingers are stiff. No, I -ain't what I was, and I suppose I mustn't expect it, being turned -sixty-seven, and I ain't old enough either for them pensions. - -"Well, if it ain't Esther. You're early, lass; and it's not your evening -out, neither. I've just been telling this lady how Ruby won't have me to -live with them; it's upset me shocking the thought of leaving 'Orace -after all these years. I'm trying not to complain, and I know 'Orace has -been a son in ten thousand; but I'm afeard of the lonesomeness, and I -don't know how I'll live. Mrs. Wells says if the Guardians see my hands -they won't give me no outdoor relief, but they'll force me into the -House, and I'd sooner be in my bury-hole." And again the poor old lady -sobbed into her pocket-handkerchief. - -"Don't cry, mother; it's all right; you shan't go on the parish, never -fear, neither for outdoor relief nor indoor relief. I've left my place, -and I'm coming to live with you and take care of you to the end of your -days. I'm not 'Orace, I know, but I'm your daughter, and after the -courting's over 'Orace will be your son again." - -"Left your place, Esther! What do you mean, lass?" - -"What I say, mother. 'Orace wrote and told me what Ruby said, and I was -that sorry I went and gave notice. 'Orace is awful upset, too, but -there, it is no good talking to a man in love, and perhaps Ruby will get -nicer; she's a young thing yet. So when I told my lady all about it she -let me come away at once. The family is going to the Riviera next week, -and the housekeeper can manage quite well." - -"You've left your good place, Esther, all for me?" - -"Yes; all right, old dear. I've got a fourteen-year character from my -lady, and I'll soon find something to do; I'm not the sort as starves." -And Esther rolled up her sleeves, made up the fire, and poured the -contents of the indignant kettle into the little black teapot. - -"Oh, dear!" wailed the old lady, "you must not do this for me, lass; -you're heaping coals of fire on my 'ead, for, as Mrs. Wells often said -to me, 'Don't be so set on 'Orace; remember, you have a girl too.' I was -always set on the boys, and not on the girls; women's life is a poor -game, and when I heard of them 'eathen 'Indus who kill the girl babies, -I thought it a very sensible thing too--better than letting them grow up -to slave for a pittance. But it is you now who are the faithful one," -and she drew Esther's face down to hers and kissed her fondly. - -Tears rose in the daughter's eyes; she seemed to remember with a sense -of loss that her mother had never kissed her like that since she was a -little child, before Horace was born. - - - - -"TOO OLD AT FORTY" - - I had no place to flee unto; and no man careth for my soul. - - -Miss Allison sat at her desk in the class-room, where she had sat for -over twenty years, and gazed dreamily out of the window into the -courtyard below, where the girls of the ---- High School were at play. -In her hand she held a letter, which had brought the white, rigid look -to her face, like that of a soldier who has received his death-wound. -Perhaps she ought to have been prepared for the shock; the system of -"too old at forty" has long been in working order in girls' schools, -possibilities had been freely discussed in the mistresses' room; but, -nevertheless, the blow had struck her dumb and senseless. The note was -very polite--"owing to changes on the staff her valuable services would -be no longer required after the summer vacation"--but Miss Allison had -seen enough of the inner workings of High Schools to know that changes -on the staff meant that the old and incompetent were to be crushed out -to make room for the young and fresh. Miss Allison was not -incompetent--her worst enemy could not accuse her of that--but she was -getting just a little tired, just a little irritable; above all, her -forty-second birthday had come and gone. Teaching is well known to -affect the nerves, and in Miss Allison's case nervous exhaustion caused -her tongue to run away with her; her sharp speeches to the idlers of her -form were reported at home--losing nothing in the telling--and duly -retailed by captious parents to the head mistress; the constant -complaints were becoming a nuisance. Moreover, a young mistress, who -would take interest in the sports and could bowl round-arm, was badly -wanted on the staff. Miss Allison belonged to an older generation, when -athletics were not a _sine qua non_; she had never been a cricketer, at -hockey her pupils easily outran her, and she had lost her nerve for -high-diving--altogether, she had lived past her age. The queer part was, -it had all taken such a little time; it seemed only yesterday that she -had come to the school, the youngest on the staff, and now she was the -oldest there, far older than the young girl from Girton who reigned as -head. And yet life was not nearly over yet; Miss Allison remembered with -dismay that women went on living for fifty, sixty, seventy, and even -eighty and ninety years--it might be that half the journey still lay -before her. - -She made a rapid calculation in her brain of her little capital in the -savings-bank, which yielded her (after the income-tax had been -recovered) an annual sum of £10 13s. 9d. Though too old to teach, she -was too young to buy much of an annuity with the capital, and she knew -the state of the labour market too well to cherish any illusions as to -the possibility of obtaining work. Perhaps she ought to have saved more, -but for some years she had her invalid mother mainly dependent upon her, -and illness runs away with money; she grudged nothing to the dead, but -she remembered almost with shame the amount she had spent in holiday -tours. - -Her eyes rested with a sense of coming loss on the crowd in the -playground, a kaleidoscopic scene of flying legs and whirling draperies, -the sun shining on bright frocks and on the loose locks of gold and -auburn till the dreary courtyard seemed to blossom like a flower-garden. -How she had loved all these girls, toiled and slaved for them, rejoiced -in their success and mourned for their disappointments; but the children -of the Higher Education, unlike Saturn, devour the mothers of the -movement, and suddenly these fair young girls had turned into rivals and -enemies, beating her down in the dust with cricket bats and hockey -sticks. An hour of bitter atheism fell upon Miss Allison; all her life -had been spent in serving "the cause," the Higher Education of Women had -been her creed, but now in middle life it had failed and she was left -helpless and superfluous as the poor women of an earlier generation, who -hung so forlornly round the neck of their nearest male relation. - -A dry sob half choked her, as she rose mechanically in obedience to the -bell to take her class in geometry. - - - - -IN THE LUNATIC ASYLUM - - O Father, we beseech Thee, sustain and comfort Thy servants who - have lost the powers of reason and self-control, suffer not the - Evil One to vex them, and in Thy mercy deliver them from the - darkness of this world....--_Prayer for Lunatics._ - - -I passed through the spacious grounds of A---- Asylum on my way to visit -the patients chargeable to our parish. A group of men were playing Rugby -football, but even to the eye of the tyro there was something wrong with -the game--there was no unity, no enthusiasm; some lurking sinister -presence--grotesque, hideous, that made one shudder--worse than -strait-waistcoat and padded-room. In conversation the lunatics struck me -as no worse mentally than the rest of us outside. Most of them -complained of unlawful detention, and begged pathetically for freedom. -"It is a dreadful place; why should I be kept here? We have just had a -harvest festival, but I'm not thankful. What have we to do with harvest -festivals?" - -"I am quite well," said a tall, powerful-looking man; "I assure you -there is nothing the matter with me," and as I was chronicling the fact -in my notebook a fiendish light blazed in his eyes--the hate of hates, -red-gleaming with fury and malice, as if all the devils in hell were -mocking behind his eyes. For a moment that seemed an eternity I watched, -paralysed, and then two stout warders pinioned him from behind and led -him away, swearing. "Homicidal mania," said the doctor shortly; "we have -to be always on the watch." - -I interviewed the man who would be King, and heard his theory as to the -illegal usurpation of the Throne by the Guelph family. I saw a new -Redeemer of the world, and the woman who had conducted one of the great -lawsuits of last century. - -The women were more talkative, and complained volubly of captivity. A -few were sullen and suspicious, and would not come to the roll-call and -I visited them on the stairs and corridors, or wherever they threw -themselves down. - -The doctor saw to it that my inspection was thorough. I was conducted to -the padded-rooms, where maniacs laughed and shouted and sang and -blasphemed, some of them throwing themselves frantically against the -cushioned walls, others lying silently on the floor, plucking futilely -at their sacking clothing. One poor woman lay in bed wasted to a shadow, -her bones nearly sticking through her skin. "Pray for him," she cried; -"oh, pray for him! His soul is burning in hell; night and day he cries -to me for a drop of cold water, but I may not take it to him. Look at -his poor throat where the rope cut; look at his poor starting eyes. Is -there no mercy in heaven?" - -"Poor woman!" said the doctor. "Her only son was hanged, and it has -turned her brain. She is sinking fast. I don't think she can live the -day out, and we shall all say 'Thank God!' It is a most pitiful case." - -In the general ward I saw a magnificent growth of golden hair plaited -round and round the head of a young girl who sat in a corner, her face -buried in her hands. Beside her sat a visitor, pressing some hot-house -grapes upon her. "Just try one, Mabel darling; don't you know me, dear?" -The hands were not withdrawn, but as I passed with the doctor she -suddenly sprang to her feet. "Has he come?" The doctor paused, and -nodded cheerfully at the visitor. "Very good sign, Mrs. Foster; I will -see you later about your daughter." At last it was over; my report-sheet -was filled, and with great thankfulness I passed into the outer air. I -gazed at the men and women outside with a sense of comradeship and -security; whatever their private troubles, at least they were -"uncertified," free men, not possessed of devils, grievously tormented. -One gets used to everything; but that first visit to A---- Asylum stands -out in letters of flame in my memory, and as I waited on the platform -for my train, I shivered as if with ague and a sense of deadly nausea -overpowered me. - -I entered an empty compartment, but just as the train was starting the -woman whom I had seen visiting at the asylum got in after me, and we -were alone together. She glanced at me shyly several times, as if she -wished to say something; and then, suddenly clutching my hand, she burst -into tears: "Oh! I am so thankful--so thankful! Did you see my poor girl -to-day? Yes, I know you did, for I saw you look at her beautiful golden -hair--whenever I see the sun shining on cornfields I think of my Mabel's -hair. Well, for nigh three years Mabel has sat in that awful place; she -has never taken her hands away from her face, nor looked up, nor spoken -a word, till this afternoon; and then, whether it was the doctor, or -your blue cloak--but, as you saw, she stood up and spoke, and after that -she ate some grapes, and knew me again, and grumbled at the way they had -done her hair--the nurse says that is the best sign of all, and so does -the doctor. Oh! thank God! thank God!" and the poor woman sobbed in -choking spasms of joy. - -I felt that I and my blue cloak were such unconscious agents in the -restoration of reason that her gratitude was quite embarrassing. - -"Yes, she has been in there just on three years; acute melancholia, they -call it, brought on by nervous shock. Our doctor at home always gave me -some hope, but not the people in there. I suppose they see such a lot of -misery, they get into the habit of despair. Mabel is my only child; my -husband died just after she was born, so you can guess what she has -been to me. Fortunately, I understood the greengrocery business; so when -I lost my husband I went on with the shop just the same, and was able to -give her a good education. She took to her books wonderful, and got a -scholarship on to the High School; she learnt French and German, and -went on to Pitman's College for shorthand and typewriting; and at -eighteen she got an engagement as typist and secretary to a City firm. -She was a wonderful pretty girl, my Mabel; just like a lily, with her -slight figure and golden head; and the men came about her like flies; -but she would never go with any of them; she was such a one to come home -and spend her evenings quietly with me, reading or sewing. Then suddenly -I saw a change had come over my girl; one of the gentlemen in the office -had been after her, and she had fallen in love with him, head over -heels, as girls will. I wasn't glad; perhaps it was a mother's jealousy, -perhaps it was second-sight a-warning of me; but I couldn't be pleased -nohow. He came up to tea on Sunday afternoon, and I hated him at once; -if ever liar and scoundrel was written on a man's face, it was there -plain for all to read, except my poor child, and she was blind as folks -in love always are. Then, though he wasn't a gentleman as I count -gentlemen, he was above her in station, and I could see as he looked -down on me and the shop; and, as I told my poor girl, them unequal -marriages don't lead to no good. But there, I saw it was no use -a-talking; we only fell out over the wretch--the only time she ever -spoke nasty to me was over him--I saw she would only marry him on the -sly if I said 'No'--we must let our children go to their doom when they -are in love--and so I took my savings out of the bank and gave her a -trousseau of the best; and all the time my heart was heavy as lead. -Folks used to laugh at me and tell me I looked as if I were getting -ready for a funeral instead of a wedding. There's many a true word -spoken in jest; and that was how I felt all the time--a great, black -cloud of horror over everything. - -"You should have seen my Mabel on her wedding-day. She looked just -beautiful in her plain white dress and long veil. The two bridesmaids -wore white muslin, with blue sashes; and Mrs. Allen--my first-floor -lodger--said as they might have been three angels of heaven. I drove in -the cab to give my girl away. God only knows how I felt. Folks have told -me since that I was white and rigid like a corpse, and that I sat in -church with my hand held up before Mabel as if to ward off a blow. We -sat, and waited, and waited, and waited. It was summer-time; and, being -in the trade, I had not spared the flowers; and the church was heavy -with the scent of roses and sweet-peas--I have sickened every summer -since at the smell of them. The organist played all the wedding tunes -through, and then began them over again--I have hated the sound of them -ever since--and still we waited. The best man went out to telephone for -the bridegroom; and my eldest nephew took a motor to drive round to -fetch him. The clock struck three, and the vicar, looking very troubled -for Mabel, came out in his surplice to say the ceremony could not take -place that day; so we all drove home again. Mabel never spoke; but she -sat up in her bedroom cold as a stone, with her face buried in her -hands, just as you saw her this afternoon, leaning her arms on the -little writing-table where she used to sit to do her lessons. She would -not speak, nor eat, nor move; and by sheer force we tore off her wedding -finery and got her into bed. The doctor came and said she was suffering -from nervous shock, and if she could cry she might recover. We pitied -her and called him, and the bridesmaids swelled up their eyes with -crying, hoping to infect her; but not a tear could we get out of her; -not even when my nephew came back with a note the scoundrel had left. He -was a married man all the time; and the crime of bigamy was too much for -him at the end. My sister and I sat up all night, but we could do -nothing with her; and at the end of the week the doctor said she must be -put away, as it was not safe for her to be at home. Ah, well! we live -through terrible things; and when I left my pretty, clever girl at the -lunatic asylum I did not think I could bear it; but I went on living. -That is three years ago now and never once has Mabel looked up or spoken -till to-day, I think it was your blue cloak; her going-away dress was -just that colour, and it seemed to rouse her somehow." - -The train drew up at the terminus, and she held out her hand in -farewell. "Good-bye. Please think of my Mabel sometimes. I don't know -what religion you are, but if you would sometimes say this prayer for -her, perhaps God might hear." She held out a little bit of paper, soiled -and smudged as if with many tears; and then the crowds surged between -us, and we parted. - - - - -THE SWEEP'S LEGACY - - (1900) - - -Most visitors among the poor have come across the person who believes -that he has a large fortune kept back from him by the Queen, aided and -abetted by the gentlemen of Somerset House and other public offices. - -I once knew a sweep in Whitechapel who was firmly persuaded that he had -a legacy of five hundred pounds in the Bank of England. "Yes, lady, if I -had my rights, I should not be so poor. My aunt, Lady Cable Knight--she -married a tip-top nobleman, she did--left me on her dying bed five -hundred pounds in gold. The money's in the Bank of England. I seed it -there myself on a shelf, labelled A. A.--Anthony Adams--but I ain't no -scholard, and the gentleman behind the counter said I must have a -scholard to speak for me. The money is there right enough, and I've got -my aunt's marriage lines, so that proves it clear." - -At first I paid little heed to his story, but after a time I got fond of -the old sweep, and began to wonder if I could not help him to obtain -this legacy. He was a good old man--always serene, always "trustful in -the Lord," though he well knew the pangs of hunger and cold, for -younger and stronger men were crushing him out of his profession. A -poor deformed creature lived with him--one of those terrible abortions -found in the homes of the poor--epileptic, crippled, hydrocephalous, -whom I took for the son of the house but on inquiry I found he was no -relation. - -"We were neighbours up George Yard, lady; no, he ain't no son of mine, -H'albert ain't. He's very afflicted, poor chap, and 'is own family would -have nothing to do with 'im, so I gave 'im a 'ome. The lad don't eat -much, and the Lord will reward me some day. If I only had that money, -though, we might live comfortable!" Of course it was strictly against -the rules of the Buildings for "H'albert" to share the room, but even -women rent-collectors have hearts. - -"If you only had some proof of your claim to the money, I would try to -help you," I said one day when the rent had been missed. I had noticed -the little room getting barer and shabbier week by week, and to-day the -old man, his wife, and "H'albert" looked pinched and blue with cold and -hunger. Already I had secretly paid a visit to Somerset House to inspect -the will of Lady Cable Knight. - -"Well, I've got my aunt's marriage lines; doesn't that prove it? But the -Queen she gets 'old of us poor people's money. We've no chance against -the rich; we're no scholards--they never larnt us nothing when I was a -boy. The man in a paper 'at, that sells whelks in Whitechapel, knows all -about it, but he's no scholard neither." - -Touched by the want of scholarship amongst his friends, I put my -attainments at his service, and we went together to claim five hundred -pounds in gold, labelled "A. A." on a shelf in the Bank of England. - -I half hoped that, after the habit of his class, the old man would not -"turn up." But when I got out of the train at Broad Street, our place of -rendezvous, I saw him waiting at the corner, "cleaned" for the occasion, -in a strange old swallow-tail coat that might have figured at stately -Court dances when George III was king. On his arm he carried a coarse -bag of sacking, not quite cleansed from soot. We attracted no small -attention as we passed through the City, and it was quite a relief when -the classic walls of the Bank hid us from the vulgar gaze, though it was -no small ordeal to face the clerks and explain our errand. But I suppose -those gentlemen are used to monetary claims of this kind, and to their -eternal honour be it said that they never smiled, not even at the -production of the sooty marriage certificate by way of establishing our -claim. - -When at last we passed out again into the roar and glare of the street, -the bag provided for the spoil empty as before, I saw the old man draw -his sleeve across his eyes, leaving a long sooty trail. "It's no good, -ma'am; the poor have no chance against the rich. I didn't even see the -bag marked A. A. this time. Most likely the Queen and those gentlemen -have spent it all long ago. But I thank you, lady, all the same, and -will you allow me to pay your fare for coming down to speak for me?" - -When his offer was refused, he wrung my hand in silence, and then turned -eastwards towards his home. - -I watched him till he disappeared in the crowd, a forlorn and pathetic -figure, not without dignity in his strange old-world garb. - - - - -AN ALIEN[1] - - -"No, I ain't got it, ma'am; he says I'm a foreigner. I filled up the -papers same as you told me, and then the gentleman called and asked for -the birth-certificate, same as you said he would. 'I ain't got it,' I -says. 'I suppose when I was born children were too common and folks too -busy to go twenty miles down the hillside to crow over a baby at -Carlisle Town Hall. There were fifteen of us all told, and my father -only a farm labourer; if he went abroad the work stayed at 'ome, and -'e'd no time for gallivanting with seventeen mouths to fill. But I've -got my baptism here all right; my mother was a pious body, and as soon -as she could stand up she went to be churched and take the new stranger -to be washed free of original sin in font-water; 'ere's the date written -on it, 1837--year Queen Victoria began her most happy reign--you'll -believe that, I suppose, in a parson's 'andwriting? Stands to reason I -was born afore I was christened; they couldn't put the cross on my -forehead, now could they, till my face was out in the world? Silly -talk, I calls it, so now don't say no more, but pay me that five -shillings and give me the book with the tickets--same as other ladies!' - -"'You've lost your domicile,' he says. - -"'Don't know what that is,' I says. - -"'Married a foreigner,' he says. - -"'Well, and if I did, that ain't no business of yours, my lad; you -weren't born nor thought of and he died afore you come near this wicked -world. He's been dead wellnigh on fifty year, so 'e didn't cross your -path to worry you. Couldn't talk English? I says as 'e talked a deal -better than you. I understood what 'e says, and I can't make 'ead nor -tail of your silly talk, my lad, so there. Coverture? No--I ain't 'eard -of that--no, nor naturalization either; you go down and fetch up Mrs. -Nash--she's a rare scholard, she is--such a one for her books and -poetry. Perhaps she'll make sense of your long words, for I can't. I -lived afore the school-boards, and all the schooling I got I found out -for myself sitting up in bed at night a-teaching myself to read and -write. Not as I think much of all the larning myself; the girls can't -keep a 'ome together as we used, and though the boys sit at the school -desks a-cyphering till they are grown young men, they seem allus out of -work at the end of it,' I says. - -"'Yes, yes, you needn't olloa, my lad; I'm not deaf, though I am old and -grey-headed. So I can't have the pension because fifty years ago I fell -in love and married a steady young man, who worked hard, and knew how to -treat his wife (which 'alf you Englishmen don't), though 'e was a -Frenchman? I tell you marriage don't matter; 'usbands are come-by-chance -sort of people--you go a walk in the moonlight, and you kisses each -other, and then, afore you're clear in your mind, you're standing at the -altar, and the "better for worse" curse a-thundering over you. Ah! well, -poor Alphonse didn't live long enough to get worse, and his death made -me a widow indeed, and though I was only twenty-two, and plenty of men -came after me, I never took none of 'em. I didn't want no nasty bigamous -troubles on the Resurrection morning. Why should five years out of my -seventy-two change me into a Frenchy? What counts is my father and -mother, and my childhood by Helvellyn,' I says. 'I'm British-born, of -British parents, on British soil. I've never stirred from my land, and I -can't speak a word of nowt but English, so stop your silly talk, my lad. -And then,' I says, 'if my husband made me a Frenchy, ain't I English -again by my sons? (it says in the Book a woman shall be saved by -child-bearing)--two of 'em in the Navy and one of 'em killed and buried -at Tel-el-Kebir, and a dozen grandsons or more a-serving of Her Majesty -in furrin parts--yes, I allus say "Her Majesty"; I've been used to the -Queen all my life, and Kings don't seem right in England somehow. - -"What stumps me is that you gone and paid a pension to that woman -opposite; now, she's an alien and a foreigner if you like--can't speak a -word of English as a body can understand, and she hates England--allus -a-boasting about Germany and the Emperor and their army, and how they'll -come and smash us to pieces--she married an Englishman, so that makes -her English--'eavens, what rubbish! Why, 'e died a few years after the -wedding, and she's only been here a couple of years at the most; I -remember them coming quite well. So she's English, with her German -tongue and her German ways, just because she belonged for a couple of -years to an English corpse in the cemetery; and I, with my English birth -and life and sons, am French because of my poor Alphonse rotted to dust -fifty years ago. Well, England's a nice land for women, a cruel -step-dame to her daughters; seems as if English girls 'ad better get -theirselves born in another planet, where people can behave decent-like -to them, and not make it a crime and a sin at seventy for marrying nice -young men who court them at eighteen. I pray as God will send a plague -of boys in the land and never a girl amongst them, so that the English -people shall die out by their own wickedness, or have to mate only with -furriners." - -FOOTNOTE: - -[1] Since this monologue was spoken the old lady has received her -pension. By the order of September 1911 twenty years of widowhood -cleanse from alien pollution. - - - - -"WIDOWS INDEED" - - -Mrs. Woods had just returned from her search after work, worn and weary -after a day of walking and waiting about on an empty stomach; the -Educational Committee of Whitelime had informed her that they had -decided to take no deserted wives as school-scrubbers, only widows need -apply. Outside she heard the voices of her children at play in the fog -and mist, and remembered with dull misery that she had neither food nor -firing for them, and she shuddered as she heard the language on their -youthful lips; she had been brought up in the godly ways of the -North-country farmhouse and the struggle against evil seemed too hard -for her. - -She fitted the key into the lock of her little bare room and lit the -evil-smelling lamp, then she sank into a chair overpowered by deadly -nausea; strange whirligigs of light flashed before her eyes, and then -she collapsed on the floor in a dead faint. - -When she came to herself she was sitting by a bright little fire in the -next room and friendly neighbours were chafing her hands and pouring a -potent spirit down her throat. - -"That's right, my dear, you're coming round nicely; have another sip of -gin and then a good cup of tea will put you right; faint you were, my -dear, I know, and I suppose you had no luck at them Board Schools?" - -Mrs. Woods raised a weary hand to her dazed head and thought dully -before she answered-- - -"They asked me if I was a widow, and when I said my husband had deserted -me over a month ago they said as they were sorry they could not give me -any work, they were keeping it for the widows of the Borough." - -"Yes, I 'eard that from Mrs. James, but why didn't you have the sense to -say as you were a widow?" - -"I never thought on that. I am a truthful woman, I am." - -"Can't afford to be truthful if you are a deserted woman; men on boards -and committees don't like the breed, thinks you did something to drive -the old man away, but widows moves the 'ardest 'earts. What you wants is -a crape fall and Mrs. Lee's black-bordered 'ankerchief." - -"You'll have to get work, my dear. All the pack will be loose on you -soon--school-board visitors and sanitaries, and cruelty-men to say as -your children have not enough food----" - -"There, there, don't upset her again; we'll fix you up all right, my -dear, only you must remember, Mrs. Woods, that you are young and -ignorant and must be guided by them as knows the world," said Mrs. Lee, -a shrewd-eyed old dame of great wisdom and experience, who, like some of -the curés in Brittany, was consulted by all her friends and neighbours -in all problems spiritual and temporal. - -"First of all, my dear, you must get out of this, you're getting too -well known in this locality. Go into London Street right across the 'igh -road. I 'ave a daughter as can give you a room, and there you become a -widow, Mrs. Spence--just buried 'im in Sheffield. You're from Yorkshire, -I reckon?" - -Mrs. Woods nodded. - -"You talk queer just like my old man did, so that'll sound true. You -takes your children from Nightingale Lane, and you sends them to that -big Board School by the docks--my Muriel knows the name--and you enters -them as Spence, not Woods--mind you tells them they are Spence. Then you -starts a new life. There are cleaners wanted in that idiot school just -built by Whitelime Church, and I'll be your reference if you want one. -I'll lend you my crape fall, and I'll wash my black-bordered -'ankerchief, which has mourned afore boards and committees for the last -ten years or more; mind you use it right and sniff into it when they -asks too many questions, and be sure and rub it in as 'ow you've buried -'im in Sheffield. I've 'eard all the women talking at the laundry as 'ow -they're refusing work to deserted wives, says as the Council don't want -to make it easy for 'usbands to dump families on the rates--good Gawd! -as if a man eat up body and soul with a fancy for another woman stops -to think of his family and where they will get dumped. Well, I mustn't -grumble. Lee was a good man to me and I miss 'im sad, but there is my -Gladys, the prettiest of the bunch, the flower of the flock as 'er dad -used to call 'er, left within three year of 'er wedding by 'er 'usband, -who was the maddest and silliest lover I ever seed till she said 'Yes' -to 'im, though dad and I always told 'er 'e was no good. No, my dear, -I'm afraid as it isn't the truth, but if folks play us such dirty tricks -we must be even with them. Think of your little 'ome and your little -kiddies and rouse yourself for their sakes. You are a strong and 'earty -woman when you stop crying for 'im and get some victuals into you, and -you don't want the Board to get at 'em and take 'em away, protecting -them against you and sending them to that great Bastille. Don't give -way, dearie. I'll come with you to-morrow. And I'd better be your -mother-in-law; folks know me round 'ere, and 'ow me and the old dad 'ad -fifteen of 'em, and a daughter-in-law more or less won't matter. Don't -give way, I tell you. Give us another cup of tea, Mrs. Hayes." - -The next morning a deep-crape-veiled Mrs. Spence, propped up by an -equally funereal Mrs. Lee, the black-bordered handkerchief much in -evidence, sought and obtained work at the new L.C.C. School for the -Mentally Defective, and the terrors of the workhouse, the Poor Law -Schools, or even prison were temporarily averted. - - - - -THE RUNAWAY - - -He sat alone, in a corner of the playing field, a white-faced child of -the slums, in a dumb agony of loneliness and despair. - -He was frightened and appalled at the wide stretches of green woodland -around and the great dome of the blue sky above. It made him feel -smaller and more deserted than ever, and his head was sore with -home-sickness for his mother and Mabel, the sister next him, and the -baby, his especial charge, for whose warm weight his little arms ached -with longing. - -He had always been his mother's special help. He had minded the younger -ones when she got a job at washing or charing, and helped her to sew -sacks with little fingers quickly grown deft with practice. They had -been very happy, even though food was often short, and spent many -pleasant hours amongst the graves of their churchyard playgrounds, or -sitting on the Tower Wharf watching the river and the big ships. - -The nightmare of his short life had been a man called Daddy, who came -back when they were all asleep, smelling strong and queer, and then -there would be furious words and the dull thuds of blows falling on his -mother's slender body, and he would throw himself screaming to protect -his beloved against the wild beast that was attacking her. Once in the -fray his arm had got broken, and he had seen, as in an evil dream, a -dreaded "cop" enter the room, and Daddy had been hailed to prison, after -which there was long peace and joy in the little home. - -Then the man came out, and the quarrels were worse than ever, till a -kindly neighbour took Percy to sleep on the rag bed with her other -children, out of the way of Daddy, who had conceived a violent hatred -against his firstborn. - -Then one day Daddy was brought home, straight and stiff, on a stretcher. -There had been a drunken row at the "Pig and Whistle," and Daddy had -fallen backwards on the pavement, and died of a fractured skull. An -inquest was held, and much more interest was shown in Daddy's dead body -than any one had evinced in his living one. A coroner and a doctor and -twelve jurymen "sat" gravely on the corpse, and decided he had died "an -accidental death." - -Then there was a funeral and a long drive in a carriage with much crape -and black about, and Daddy was left in a deep yellow hole with muddy -water at the bottom. And peace came again to the widow and orphans. - -Peace, but starvation, for the mother's wage did not suffice to buy -bread for them all. The rent got behind, and finally, with many tears -and much pressure from various black-coated men, who seemed always -worrying at the door, he and Mabel had been taken to a big, terrible -place called a workhouse. And, after some preliminary misery at another -place, called a "Receiving Home," wretchedness had culminated in this -strange vastness of loneliness and greenery. Only two days had passed, -but they seemed like years, and he trembled lest his sentence here -should be a life-one, and he would never see his mother again. He had -not killed nor robbed nor hurt any one, and he wondered with the -bewilderment of seven years why men and women could be so cruel to him. -Then he determined to run away. It had not taken long in the train. If -he started soon, he would be home by bedtime. - -"Where's London?" he asked a boy who was hitting a smaller one to pass -the time. - -"Dunno. You go in a train." - -"I know. But which way?" - -"Dunno, I tell you." - -Near him stood one of the teachers, but as a natural enemy the boy felt -he was not to be trusted, and did not ask him. - -Then the bell rang for dinner, and they took their seats round the long, -bare tables, in front of a steaming plate of stewed meat and vegetables. -His pulses were beating with excitement at his secret plot, and the food -was like sawdust in his mouth. Afternoon school began, and he sat with -the resigned boredom of his kind, chanting in shrill chorus the eternal -truths of the multiplication table. - -Then some other subject, equally dull, was started, when suddenly his -heart leaped to his mouth, and he nearly fell off the bench with the -unexpected joy of it, for the teacher had brought up the intimate -question of his soul: "Which is the way to London?" - -The blood throbbed so loud in his ears that he could scarcely hear the -answer. "London lies south of this schoolroom. If you walked out of that -window, and followed your nose up the white road yonder, it would take -you to London." - -Other strange instruction followed--how to find north and south, and all -about the sun and moon--but he purposely refrained from attending. By -the act of God the position of London had been miraculously revealed to -him, and he clung fast to that knowledge, so that his brain was burning -with the effort of concentration. - -At last the bell rang, and they flocked out again into the playing -field. He stood alone with his great knowledge and reconnoitred the -situation like an experienced general; a high fence with barbed wire ran -round the field (clearly boys had run away before), but on the left of -the square school-house he could see the shrubbery and the big locked -gates by which he had been brought in with fellow-prisoners two days -before. - -Clearly, there was no escape but by going back to the house and facing -perils unspeakable. So, humming softly to himself, he walked back -through the long corridors to the entrance-hall, and out at the front -door, which was standing open, for the day was hot. He sneaked along -like a cat under the laurel bushes. - -The big gates were locked, but farther down, hidden in the ivy of the -wall, was a small door which yielded to his push, and then, by the -favour of the angels, he stood free, and ran for his life up the white -road which led to London. At the top of the hill he paused and panted -for breath. The windows of the great school-house glared at him like the -eyes of some evil beast, and, small as he was, he was painfully -conscious of his conspicuousness on the white highway. A farmer's cart -passed him, and the man turned round and gazed after him curiously. A -motor-bus thundered past in a cloud of white, and again it seemed as if -every head turned to watch him. - -Hot and faint and thirsty, he still plodded on. London, with its beloved -chimneys and friendly crowds, would soon burst into view, and his -mother, with her cheery "What-ho, Percy!" would be welcoming him. The -new shoes of the school were pinching badly. He longed to take them off, -but funked the knots, which some female person had tied that morning -with damnable efficiency. The sun had suddenly tumbled into a -dangerous-looking pool of red fire, and the shadows which ran beside him -had grown so gigantic he felt alarmed. Such terrifying phenomena were -unknown in the blessed streets of London. The queer night noises of the -countryside had begun around him: strange chirrups and cries from -unseen beasts, which seemed to follow and run beside him; and every now -and then a horned monster stuck its head over the gate and roared -hungrily for its prey. - -At length, wearied and hungry, and terrified by the sinister darkness -stealing over the landscape, he threw himself down by the wayside. He -heard the sound of footsteps behind, and braced himself to meet the -knife of the murderer, when a cheerful voice greeted him: "What-ho, -sonnie! You are out late. Time for little boys to be in bed." - -"Please, sir," said the child, "I am going home to mother." - -"Where does your mother live?" - -"In London." - -"London, eh! But you've a long way to go." - -A sob rose and tore at his throat. Still a long way to go, and darkness -was coming on--black, inky darkness, uncut by familiar street-lamps. - -"Come home with me, Tommy, and my missis will sleep you for the night." - -With a feeling of perfect confidence, the child slipped his small -fingers into the horny hand of the farm labourer, and half an hour -later, washed and fed, he was sleeping in a big bed amongst a -heterogeneous collection of curly heads. - -"Look 'ere, Bill," said the labourer's wife as she folded up the neat -little garments provided by unwilling ratepayers, "'e's runned away from -that there barrack school." - -"I knowed that," said Bill, knocking the ashes out from his clay pipe. -"It ain't the first time as I've met youngsters on the road, and, mebbe, -it won't be the last, as folks in the village have been before the beak -for harbouring them, poor little devils!" - - - - -"A GIRL! GOD HELP HER!" - - -The Lady Catherine Castleton lay dying in the stately bed-chamber of -Castleton Hall. Night and day they had sought for my lord in clubs and -gambling dens and well-known haunts of vice and pleasure, but they did -not know of the rose-grown cottage on the Thames which he had taken for -his latest inamorata. - -When they told my lady the child was a girl she had given a low cry, -"God help her!" and had turned her face to the wall. Great obstetricians -summoned by telephone had sped in flying motors from town, but they -stood baffled and helpless by the bedside of the young woman, who lay so -still and indifferent, making no effort to live. - -In the library the family lawyer and the white-haired admiral, her -father, sat signing cheques for the great specialists, who had done so -little and charged so much. - -When they had gone the admiral, who loved his daughter, swore long and -vigorously with the gorgeous powers of the seafaring man, and the lawyer -listened with fascinated approval. - -"I told her what her life would be with a loose-living scoundrel like -Castleton, but she would not listen--madly in love with him and his -handsome face, and now he has killed her at twenty-two!" - -"I had a very distressing interview with Lady Catherine a few weeks ago. -She went away in disgust and despair when I had to tell her that I did -not think she had sufficient evidence for a divorce, and that she must -prove cruelty or desertion as well as adultery." - -"D---d shameful law, sir; can't think how the country puts up with it. -But she shall be safe from him if she lives, my poor little girl!" - -Then they were silent, for the shadow of death crept nearer. - - * * * * * - -Outside the park gates at the end of the village, in Castleton Union, -another girl lay dying. The local practitioner had been called in on his -way back from consultation with the great gynæcologists, and as at the -hall, so in the workhouse, he found his patient sinking. "She came in -late last night, sir," said the nurse, "and the child was born almost -immediately. Her pulse is very weak, and I can't rouse her; she won't -even look at the child." - -"I hear it is Jennie Appleton, the carpenter's daughter at -Kingsford--very respectable people. How did she get here?" - -"Usual thing. Got into trouble at her situation in London; the man -promised to marry her, but he kept putting it off, and then one day he -disappeared, and wrote to her from Glasgow saying that he was a married -man. She came back home, but her father drove her out with blows and -curses, and she walked here from Kingsford--goodness knows how. It is a -sad case, and the relieving officer tells me she will probably not be -able to get any affiliation order enforced, as the man has evaded -liability by going to Scotland." - -"Abominable!" said the doctor; then he went towards the bedside of his -patient, felt her pulse, glanced at the temperature chart, and his face -grew grave. - -Taking the babe from the cradle, he laid it beside the mother: "You have -a pretty little girl." - -The eyelids flickered, and, as the Countess had spoken, so spoke the -pauper: "God help her!" - -"He will," said the doctor, who was a religious man. - -"He didn't help me. He let me come to this, and I was born respectable. -She is only a little come-by-chance maid." - -"Cheer up, my lass! My wife will help you: she knows it has not been -your fault." - -The doctor gave a few directions, and then left, looking puzzled and -worried. He was a good _accoucheur_, and hated to lose a case. What was -the matter with the women that they seemed to have lost the will to -live? - - * * * * * - -Three days later, in the glory of the May sunshine, there was a double -funeral in Castleton churchyard. - - - - -ON THE PERMANENT LIST - - (1905) - - Now also when I am old and grey-headed, - O God, forsake me not. - - -"Spend but a few days in the police-court," says Juvenal, "and then call -yourself an unhappy man if you dare." Had he sat on a Board of -Guardians, he would doubtless have included that also as a school of -personal contentment. - -All sorts of griefs and tragedies are brought up before us, some of them -abnormal and Theban in horror, some of them so common that we seem to -hear them unmoved: an honest man who cannot find employment, women with -unborn babes kicked, starved, and deserted, children neglected or -tortured, poor human beings marred in the making, the crippled, the -diseased, the defective physically and mentally, too often the pitiful -scapegoats for the sins of the race. - -All these things seem too terrible for words or tears; it is the -cheeriness and humour of the poor, their pluck and endurance, their -kindness and generosity one to another, that bring a lump to the throat -and a dimness to the eyes. - -We are a very careful Board, and pride ourselves on the strict way in -which we administer our small amount of out-relief; to get it at all -one must be, as an applicant observed, "a little 'igher than an angel," -and so it is the very aristocracy of labour that files past us this -morning, men and women against whom even the Charity Organization -Society could find no fault, a brave old army, seventy and eighty odd -years of age, some of them bent and crippled with rheumatism and weight -of years, short of breath, asthmatic, hard of hearing, dim in vision, -but plucky to the last, always in terror of looking too ill or too old, -and being forced into the workhouse. - -A few, like Moses, do not suffer the usual stigmata of age. "Their eye -is not dim, nor their natural force abated." - -"How do you keep so young?" said our chairman, half-enviously, to an -applicant eighty years of age, but upright still, with hair thick and -untinged with grey. - -"'Igh living does it, sir," replied the old man, as he took his food -tickets for the week, amounting to 3s. 1¾d. One old lady of eighty-two -runs a private school, and, in spite of the competition of free -education and palatial school buildings, she has six pupils, whose -parents value individual attention and "manners" at sixpence per head a -week. She is fully qualified and certificated, and is a person of strong -views and much force of character, and not only holds Solomon's opinions -upon corporal punishment in theory, but still puts them into practice. I -wonder which of us will have the conviction and energy to cane boys at -eighty-two? - -We are a very clean Board, and every half-year the relieving officer -brings a report as to the condition of the homes; but some of the old -people are so withered and shrunken, and their span of remaining life is -so short, that there seems little left both of time and space in which -dirt can collect, and I always hope death will free them before they are -brought into the bleak cleanliness of the House. - -Lately in the workhouse one old man took such an affectionate leave of -me that I asked him if he felt ill. "Not yet, ma'am, but I have got to -have a bath to-night, and the last one I took turned me so queer I was -laid up ten weeks in the infirmary. It does you no 'arm, ma'am, very -likely--I've 'eard say as the gentry is born and bred to it--but when -they starts a-bathing of us poor people for the first time at eighty in -them great long coffins full of water, no wonder our rheumatics comes on -worse than ever. And then, ma'am, you forget as you ladies and gentlemen -'ave a drop of something hot to keep the cold out afterwards, and I -don't blame you for it, but that we never gets." - -On the whole, the old ladies keep themselves wonderfully clean and -smart, and the cheap drapery stores in the vicinity of the workhouse do -a great trade twice a year in violets and rosebuds at 1¾d. a dozen for -the adornment of bonnets; feminine instinct is not atrophied by age, and -the applicants know the value of a good appearance before "the -gentlemen." The old men are not so clever, and when deprived of the -ministrations of a wife they seem to have no idea of "mackling" for -themselves, and too often lapse into a fatal condition of dirt and -hugger-mugger. Sometimes the reports are brought by daughters, nieces, -or neighbours, or sometimes "only the landlady"--that abused class -showing often much Christian charity and generosity. - -Some of the old people have led such blameless lives that members of the -C.O.S. offer to take them up and save them from the Poor Law, a -privilege they do not always fully appreciate. - -"No, thank you, sir, I don't want to go there. I've 'eard of the Charity -Organization, and the questions as they ask--Mrs. Smith told me they -sifted and sifted her case and give her nothing in the end. I'd rather -have a few ha'pence from you, sir." - -"But you will be a pauper!" said one of the Guardians, in a sepulchral -voice of horror. - -"Oh! I don't mind that a bit, sir. My mother was left a widow and on the -parish at forty. I'm sixty-seven, and I'd work if I could, but they -turned me off at the laundry because the rheumatics has stiffened up my -fingers, and I can't wash any more, and I don't see why I shouldn't come -on the parish now." - -Having no vote, and being accustomed to be classed in the category of -"lunatics, criminals, and idiots," no wonder the term "pauper" conveys -little opprobrium to women. - -"Bother the House!" says another spirited old laundress, who complains -that "a parcel of girls" are preferred before her. "I'm too young to -come in there. I'm only seventy, and I'll wait till I'm eighty." - -One poor old man has his relief stopped because his wife is reported as -"a drinking woman," though he is told he may still draw the money if his -wife enters the House. "Thank you, sir, my wife does not come into the -workhouse. She has a glass sometimes, but she is never the worse for -liquor, and she's been a good wife to me. Spiteful gossip, sir. Good -morning!" and he walks out, an honourable and loyal gentleman fallen on -evil days. - -Sometimes cold and starvation is worse than they thought, and they do -come in; sometimes they die. The body of an old man was lately fished -out of the pond, and at the inquest it was stated that he had lost his -employment after thirty years at one place. The firm had changed hands, -and the new manager had told him, brutally, "he wanted no old iron -about." At seventy-five one is a drag in the labour market, and the poor -old fellow, feeling acutely that he would only be a burden on his sons -and his daughters, asked neither for out-relief nor indoor-relief, but -stood his mates a drink with his last shilling, and took the old Roman -method. - -However, light seems dawning through the darkness, and I think many Poor -Law Guardians will rest better in their beds knowing that old-age -pensions seem to have come into the sphere of practical politics. - - - - -THE PAUPER AND THE OLD-AGE PENSION[2] - - -On January 1st the receipt of Poor Law relief ceases to be a -disqualification for old-age pensions, and some interesting statistics -have been compiled by the _Daily Mail_ which show that only about 17 per -cent. of old people in the workhouses are applying for their 5s. per -week. These are the figures for England and Wales. In the Metropolitan -area, where rents are high, and the smallest room cannot be had under -two shillings or half a crown a week, the proportion will be lower -still. - -At first sight these figures are very disappointing, and it seems to -some of us who have counted so much on this reform as if we cannot -escape from the evils of the workhouse system. But a little thought will -show how impossible it is for this generation of old folk to take -advantage of the change; the wished-for has come too late; they have -burnt their ships, or rather their beds, sold up "the little 'ome"; they -have neither bag nor baggage, bed nor clothing. They are like snails -with broken shells. There is no protection against the rude world, and -once having made the sacrifice, few people over seventy have the pluck -to start life afresh. It is hardly worth while; for them the bitterness -of death is past. - -A committee of our Board has held three special sessions for the purpose -of interviewing these old people, and the answer has come with wearying -monotony, "No, thank you, five shillings would be no good to me. I have -nowhere to go." Some have sons and daughters, but "heavy families" and -crowded rooms dry up filial piety. There is no place for the aged father -or mother in our rack-rented city, and the old people accept their fate -with the quiet philosophy of the poor. The long string of human wreckage -files past us, some bowed and bent with the weight of years, others -upright and active, some with the hoary heads of the traditional -prophets, others black-haired and keen-eyed still, for the "high living" -of the workhouse, as is often remarked, preserves youth in a miraculous -way. Some are crippled and half-blind, others suffer with deafness--an -ailment of poverty, which very naturally grows worse under inquisitive -questioning--and nearly all have rheumatism. A curate once told me that -he was summoned to a sick parishioner who was "troubled in mind," and -wanted to make his peace with Heaven, but the only sin he could remember -was "the rheumatics." The disease seems to be a national sin. - -One hears the country accents of the United Kingdom--the burr of -Northumbria, the correct English of East Anglia, the rough homeliness -of Yorkshire and the Midlands, the soft accents of Devonshire and the -West, the precision of the foreign English of the Welsh mountains, the -pleasant ring of the Scottish tongue, the brogue of old Ireland. Few -seem Londoners. Take any group of people, and see how few of her -children London seems to bring to maturity. - -It is our last meeting to-day, and we go to visit those who cannot -attend, the sick and bed-ridden in the infirmary--a mere form, for these -are vessels which will sail no more, sea-battered, half-derelict, -nearing port, and for them the dawn will break in the New Jerusalem. -Some are palsied and paralysed and half-senile, but now and again keen -old eyes look at us from the whiteness of the ratepayers' sheets and -regret they are "too old to apply." - -Very ancient folk live in these wards, and their birthdays go back to -the tens and twenties of last century, one old lady being born in the -historic year of 1815. An old man, jealous of her greater glory, says he -is 109, but our register of age gives the comparatively recent date of -1830. Few of them seem to have any friends or visitors. Children are -dead, grandchildren and great-grandchildren have forgotten them; but -they do not complain, age mercifully deadens the faculties, though their -terrible loneliness was once graphically written on my brain by the -speech of an old Irishwoman: "I am quite alone, lady; I have no friends -but you and the Almighty God." - -We have interviewed 103, and only eleven have applied for the pension. -The wished-for, as I have said, has come too late; but another -generation will be saved from "the House" and will be able "to die -outside," so often the last wish of the aged. - -The merciful alteration in the law will save this generation of "outdoor -poor." Old people in the late sixties have no longer been dying of -starvation in the terror of losing the pension through accepting poor -relief, and the greater independence of the State pensioner is -heartening many. "On the Imperial taxes," said an old gentleman with a -somewhat low standard of cleanliness, "I can be as dirty as ever I -like." - -FOOTNOTE: - -[2] Act amended 1911. - - - - -THE EVACUATION OF THE WORKHOUSE - - (1915) - - -The workhouse is being evacuated; the whole premises, infirmary and -House, have been taken over by the War Office as a military hospital; -after weeks of waiting final orders have come, and to-day -motor-omnibuses and ambulances are carrying off the inmates to a -neighbouring parish. - -One feels how widespread and far-reaching are the sufferings caused by -war, and spite of this bright May sunshine one realizes that the whole -earth is full of darkness and cruel habitations, the white blossoms of -the spring seem like funeral flowers, and the red tulips glow like a -field of blood. - -It never occurred to me before that any one could have any feeling, -except repugnance, towards a workhouse, but some one--I think it was the -prisoner of Chillon--grew attached to his prison, and evidently it is -the same with these old folk. Old faces work painfully, tears stand in -bright old eyes, knotted old fingers clutch ours in farewell, and some -of the old women break down utterly and sob bitterly. On the journey -some of them lose all sense of control, take off their bonnets, and let -down their hair, obeying a human instinct of despair which scholars -will remember dates back to the siege of Troy. "It's all the home I've -known for twenty years, and I be right sorry to go," says an aged man, -as he shakes my hand. - -Folks live long in the workhouse, and seventy and eighty years are -regarded as comparative youth by the older people of ninety and upwards; -to the aged any change is upheaval; they have got used to their bed, -their particular chair, their daily routine, and to have to leave the -accustomed looms in the light of a perilous adventure. Perhaps heaviest -of all is the sense of exile; it is a long walk to the adjoining parish, -and bus fares will be hard to spare with bread at ninepence a quartern. -"I've been on the danger list and my son came every day to see me," says -one old lady, "but he won't be able to get so far now." - -Alarming rumours are being spread by a pessimist much travelled in -vagrant wards, but they are speedily contradicted by an optimist, also -an expert in Poor Law both in theory and practice. - -We try to cheer them, but our comfort is not whole-hearted; we can guess -how the chafing of the unaccustomed, the new discipline, the crowds of -unfamiliar faces will jar upon the aged. We try to impress upon them the -joy of self-sacrifice, the needs of our wounded soldiers, the patriotic -pride in giving up something for them. Oh, yes, they know all that, the -Guardians had been and talked to them "just like a meeting," they -understand about the soldiers, they want to do their best for them; but -it is hard. The workhouse is nothing if not military in its traditions; -heroes of South Africa, of Balaclava, and the Crimea have found asylum -in the whitewashed wards; many of the present inmates have been -soldiers, and there are few who have not some relatives--grandsons and -great-grandsons--fighting in the trenches. One of the oldest of the -"grannies," aged ninety-three, went off smiling, proud, as she said, "to -do her bit." - -The sick are being brought down now into the ambulances--the phthisical, -the paralytic, the bed-ridden--blinking in the sunlight from their -mattress-tomb, one poor woman stricken with blindness and deafness, who -in spite of nervousness looks forward to her first motor-drive. These -are less troubled; they are younger, and the sick hope ever for a quick -cure, and the majority are only in for temporary illness. Then come the -babies, astonishingly smart and well-dressed, including the youngest -inmate, aged but eight days. - -The costumes are odd and eccentric, and in spite of misery a good deal -of good-tempered chaff flies round. All inmates are to leave in their -own clothes, and strange garments have been brought to the light of day, -whilst much concern is expressed about excellent coats and skirts -moth-eaten or mislaid in the course of twenty-five years. The storage of -the workhouse often suffers strain, and the wholesome practice of -"stoving" all clothes does not improve the colours nor contribute to the -preservation of what _modistes_ call _la ligne_. Fortunately, all -fashions come round again, and we try to assure the women that the -voluminous skirts and high collars of last century are _le dernier cri_ -in Bond Street, but it is difficult for one woman to deceive another -over the question of fashion. - -For twelve hours the 'buses and ambulances have plied backwards and -forwards, and now the last load home has started, and tired nurses and -harassed officials wave their last good-bye, thankful the long day has -come at length to an end. In a few days other loads will arrive, all -young these and all soldiers, many of them, perhaps, as the -advertisements say, belonging to the nobility and gentry. The workhouse -has ceased to be. From to-day it will be no longer rate-supported; the -nurses and the whole staff draw rations and are in the pay and service -of the War Office. As soon as possible gilt letters will announce it as -a "Military Hospital." - -On the table before me lies a copy of the local paper, and I read with -surprise the thanks of a public body for our "offer to give up the -workhouse as a military hospital, and expressing appreciation of the -patriotic action of the Guardians in the matter." - -In my opinion we made no offer; we merely obeyed a command, and the -people who did a patriotic action were those who turned out of their -home, such as it was; but in this world credit is given where it is not -due, and thanks are bestowed on the wrong people. We reap where we have -not sown and gather where we have not strawed. - - -_Printed in Great Britain by_ -UNWIN BROTHERS, LIMITED, THE GRESHAM PRESS, WOKING AND LONDON - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Workhouse Characters, by Margaret Wynne Nevinson - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WORKHOUSE CHARACTERS *** - -***** This file should be named 40881-8.txt or 40881-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/0/8/8/40881/ - -Produced by sp1nd, Martin Pettit and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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