HOW THE POOR LIVE.
43
London," and the black page lies open that all may read,
then, and not till then, will the enormity of the responsibility be recognised of those to whom the power to do so
much has been given and who have done so little.
That work is for stronger hands than mine to do. I am
content here to chronicle such lights and shadows of life
among the poor as fall across my path in a journey round
the outskirts only of the dark continent in our midst.
IN PETTICOATS.
Here is an incident which, pathetic enough, has yet its
humorous side. Here is a boy of eight years old in
petticoats, a big, strong, healthy lad. His father is a dock
labourer, and this is how he was brought forward as a
candidate for some cast-off clothing which a director of
the East and West India Dock Company was generously
distributing.
The dock labourers are a distinct class among the East-
end poor, and I hope at some future time to give the reader
a glimpse of life among them. How hard their struggle is
may be gathered when their boys have to go till eight and
nine years old in petticoats because the parents cannot
afford to buy them knickerbockers or trousers.
CHAPTER IX.
These pages would be incomplete without at least a
passing reference to some of the many efforts which have
already been made to deal with the evils arising from the
condition of things it has been my desire to expose.
The mere charitable work going on I have not space to
deal with. There are night refuges, missions, and many
excellent institutions due to public and private enterprise in
all the poorer quarters, all of which in a manner more or less
satisfactory afford relief to the inhabitants.
One good work, however, which I do not care to leave
hiding its light under a bushel, is the home for factory-girls,
managed by the Sisters of St. John the Baptist, Clewer,
and situated in Southwark.
Here, girls employed in the many factories of the neighbourhood during the day can, if they are willing to submit
to the rules, find a real home for a small weekly payment,
and escape the wretched and too often vicious surroundings
of the places in which their parents live.
With a full knowledge of all the temptation which besets
the work-girls who have to spend their leisure in these
slums none can doubt the good work such institutions
may do.
On the night of our visit we were conducted from basement to roof by one of the Sisters; we saw the girls and
heard their histories from their own lips, and learnt how
terrible was the sin and misery which had forced them to
look upon their vile homes with loathing, and how fierce
the temptation which beset them when left to themselves.
These girls are of the class which most deserve help;
they work hard at dangerous trades for their living, and
SISTER.
-v
they pay for their food and board. What the charity does
is to throw a certain home influence around them, give
them cleanliness and godliness, and preserve them to some
extent from the contamination of the streets—streets here
which are thronged at night with the worst types of humanity
the great city can show.
The story of the Mission is romantic. A lady, Mrs. Hun
HOW THE POOR LIVE.
43
London," and the black page lies open that all may read,
then, and not till then, will the enormity of the responsibility be recognised of those to whom the power to do so
much has been given and who have done so little.
That work is for stronger hands than mine to do. I am
content here to chronicle such lights and shadows of life
among the poor as fall across my path in a journey round
the outskirts only of the dark continent in our midst.
IN PETTICOATS.
Here is an incident which, pathetic enough, has yet its
humorous side. Here is a boy of eight years old in
petticoats, a big, strong, healthy lad. His father is a dock
labourer, and this is how he was brought forward as a
candidate for some cast-off clothing which a director of
the East and West India Dock Company was generously
distributing.
The dock labourers are a distinct class among the East-
end poor, and I hope at some future time to give the reader
a glimpse of life among them. How hard their struggle is
may be gathered when their boys have to go till eight and
nine years old in petticoats because the parents cannot
afford to buy them knickerbockers or trousers.
CHAPTER IX.
These pages would be incomplete without at least a
passing reference to some of the many efforts which have
already been made to deal with the evils arising from the
condition of things it has been my desire to expose.
The mere charitable work going on I have not space to
deal with. There are night refuges, missions, and many
excellent institutions due to public and private enterprise in
all the poorer quarters, all of which in a manner more or less
satisfactory afford relief to the inhabitants.
One good work, however, which I do not care to leave
hiding its light under a bushel, is the home for factory-girls,
managed by the Sisters of St. John the Baptist, Clewer,
and situated in Southwark.
Here, girls employed in the many factories of the neighbourhood during the day can, if they are willing to submit
to the rules, find a real home for a small weekly payment,
and escape the wretched and too often vicious surroundings
of the places in which their parents live.
With a full knowledge of all the temptation which besets
the work-girls who have to spend their leisure in these
slums none can doubt the good work such institutions
may do.
On the night of our visit we were conducted from basement to roof by one of the Sisters; we saw the girls and
heard their histories from their own lips, and learnt how
terrible was the sin and misery which had forced them to
look upon their vile homes with loathing, and how fierce
the temptation which beset them when left to themselves.
These girls are of the class which most deserve help;
they work hard at dangerous trades for their living, and
SISTER.
-v
they pay for their food and board. What the charity does
is to throw a certain home influence around them, give
them cleanliness and godliness, and preserve them to some
extent from the contamination of the streets—streets here
which are thronged at night with the worst types of humanity
the great city can show.
The story of the Mission is romantic. A lady, Mrs. Hun
