I had the following narrative from a stout blind woman, with a very
grave and even meditative look, fifty-six years old, dressed in a clean
cotton gown, the pattern of which was almost washed out. She was led
by a very fine dog (a Scotch colley, she described it), a chain being
affixed to the dog’s leather collar. A boy, poor and destitute, she
said, barefooted, and wearing a greasy ragged jacket, with his bare
skin showing through the many rents, accompanied her when I saw her.
The boy had been with her a month, she supporting him. She said:--
“I have been blind twelve years. I was a servant in my youth, and
in 1824 married a journeyman cabinet-maker. I went blind from an
inflammation two years before my husband died. We had five children,
all dead now--the last died six years ago; and at my husband’s death I
was left almost destitute. I used to sell a few laces in the street,
but couldn’t clear 2_s._ 6_d._ a-week by it. I had a little help from
the parish, but very rarely; and at last I could get nothing but an
order for the house. A neighbour--a tradesman--then taught me at his
leisure to play the violin, but I’m not a great performer. I wish I
was. I began to play in the streets five years ago. I get halfpennies
in charity, not for my music. Some days I pick up 2_s._, some days only
6_d._, and on wet days nothing. I’ve often had to pledge my fiddle for
2_s._--I could never get more on it, and sometimes not that. When my
fiddle was in pledge, I used to sell matches and laces in the streets,
and have had to borrow 1-1/2_d._ to lay in a stock. I’ve sometimes
taken 4_d._ in eight hours. My chief places, when I’ve only the dog to
lead me, are Regent-street and Portland-place; and, really, people are
very kind and careful in guiding and directing me,--even the cabmen!
may God bless them!”