POVERTY

of these miserable outcasts. The poverty, we mean, of those who try to

live honestly; for notwithstanding the sickening revelations of

immorality which have been disclosed to us, those who endeavour to earn

their bread by honest work far outnumber the dishonest. And it is to

their infinite credit that it should be so, considering that they are

daily face to face with the contrast between their wretched earnings and

those which are the produce of sin. A child seven years old is known

easily to make 10s. 6d. a week by thieving, but what can he earn by such

work as match-box making, for which 2¼d. a gross is paid, the maker

having to find his own fire for drying the boxes, and his own paste and

string? Before he can gain as much as the young thief he must make 56

gross of match-boxes a week, or 1296 a day. It is needless to say that

this is impossible, for even adults can rarely make more than an average

of half that number. How long then must the little hands toil before

they can earn the price of the scantiest meal! Women, for the work of

trousers finishing (_i.e._, sewing in linings, making button-holes and

stitching on the buttons) receive 2½d. a pair, and have to find their

own thread. We ask a woman who is making tweed trousers, how much she

can earn in a day, and are told one shilling. But what does a day mean

to this poor soul? _Seventeen hours!_ From five in the morning to ten at

night--no pause for meals. She eats her crust and drinks a little tea as

she works, making in very truth, with her needle and thread, not her

living only, but her shroud. For making men's shirts these women are

paid 10d. a dozen; lawn tennis aprons, 3d. a dozen; and babies' hoods,

from 1s. 6d. to 2s. 6d. a dozen. In St. George's-in-the-East large

numbers of women and children, some of the latter only seven years old,

are employed in sack-making, for which they get a farthing each. In one

house was found a widow and her half idiot daughter making palliasses at

1¾d. each. Here is a woman who has a sick husband and a little child to

look after. She is employed at shirt finishing at 3d. a dozen, and by

the utmost effort can only earn 6d. a day, out of which she has to find

her own thread. Another, with a crippled hand, maintains herself and a

blind husband by match-box making, for which she is remunerated on the

liberal scale mentioned above; and out of her 2¼d. a gross she has to

pay a girl a penny a gross to help her. Others obtain at Covent Garden

in the season 1d. or 2d. a peck for shelling peas, or 6d. a basket for

walnuts; and they do well if their labour brings them 10d. or a shilling

a day. With men it is comparatively speaking no better. "My master,"

says one man visited by a recent writer in the _Fortnightly Review_,

"gets a pound for what he gives me 3s. for making." And this it is easy

to believe, when we know that for a pair of fishing boots which will be

sold at three guineas, the poor workman receives 5s. 3d. if they are

made to order, or 4s. 6d. if made for stock. An old tailor and his wife

are employed in making policemen's overcoats. They have to make, finish,

hot-press, put on the buttons, and find their own thread, and for all

this they receive 2s. 10d. for each coat. This old couple work from

half-past six in the morning until ten at night, and between them can

just manage to make a coat in two days. Here is a mother who has taken

away whatever articles of clothing she can strip from her four little

children without leaving them absolutely naked. She has pawned them, not

for drink, but for coals and food. A shilling is all she can procure,

and with this she has bought seven pounds of coals and a loaf of bread.

We might fill page after page with these dreary details, but they would

become sadly monotonous, for it is the same everywhere. And then it

should not be forgotten how hardly upon poverty like this must press the

exorbitant demand for rent. Even the rack-renting of Ireland, which so

stirred our indignation a little while ago, was merciful by comparison.

If by any chance a reluctant landlord can be induced to execute or pay

for some long-needed repairs, they become the occasion for new

exactions. Going through these rooms we come to one in which a hole, as

big as a man's head, has been roughly covered, and how? A piece of

board, from an old soapbox, has been fixed over the opening by one nail,

and to the tenant has been given a yard and a half of paper with which

to cover it; and for this expenditure--perhaps 4d. at the

outside--_threepence a week has been put upon the rent_. If this is

enough to arouse our indignation, what must be thought of the following?

The two old people referred to above have lived in one room for 14

years, during which time it has only once been partially cleansed. The

landlord has undertaken that it shall be done shortly, and for the past

three months has been taking 6d. a week extra for rent for what he is

thus _going to do_. This is what the helpless have to submit to; they

are charged for these pestilential dens a rent which consumes half the

earnings of a family, and leaves them no more than from 4d. to 6d. a day

for food, clothing and fire; a grinding of the faces of the poor which

could scarcely be paralleled in lands of slavery and of notorious

oppression. This, however, is not all; for even these depths of poverty

and degradation are reached by the Education Act, and however beneficent

its purpose, it bears with cruel weight upon the class we have

described, to whom twopence or a penny a week for the school fees of

each of three or four children, means so much lack of bread.

Amidst such poverty and squalor it is inevitable that one should be

constantly confronted with scenes of

The Bitter Cry of Outcast London An Inquiry into the Condition of the Abject Poor · 第 14 / 18 题