SCENE.--_Hyde Park. Demonstration in progress, with the not
unreasonable object of inducing Parliament to extend the
Factory Acts to small and insanitary laundries. A lengthy
procession, composed of sympathetic Railway Workers, Cabmen,
Journeymen Tailors, Gas Stokers, House-Decorators, Carpenters,
&c., &c., alt with resplendent banners and hired bands, has
marched into the Park, together with some lorries and drags
containing deputations of ladies from the laundry in the
highest possible spirits. Once arrived, each platform chiefly
concerns itself with the grievances of its own particular
supporters, while a crowd of sightseers circulates, enjoying
the oratory with a desultory impartiality. The usual
silhouettes of gesticulating speakers appear like jerky
clockwork figures above the throng. A crowd of Socialists
are "remembering Chicago" in a corner. The chief centre of
attraction is a drag occupied by a Philanthropic Young-lady
Chairwoman, her chaperon, some leading laundresses, one or two
male sympathisers, and a couple of reporters. The_ Chairwoman
_conducts the proceedings with the greatest possible tact
and grace, but is slightly hampered by the levity of a crowd
composed of factory-girls, semi-imbecile larrikins, and
professional laundresses, whose burning anxiety for reform
masks itself under a surface frivolity. In the neighbourhood
is a lorry decorated with clean shirts, and occupied by young
washerwomen fired by an enthusiasm which manifests itself in
bursts of shrill cheering and lively interchange of chaff
with the spectators. In the meantime, the business of this
particular platform proceeds somewhat as follows:--_
_The Chairwoman_ (_with patient good-humour_). Now, I'm sure you'll
all be as quiet as you can while I ... (_Hubbub, caused by a personal
altercation between two Women in the crowd, and shouts of "Order!"_)
Because really my doctor has ordered me not to speak in the open air
at all ... (_Here an ill-conditioned female, taking offence for some
inscrutable reason, remarks loudly,_ "_'Er_ doctor, indeed, she's
a beauty, _she_ is--'er and 'er doctor!" _More calls to order, and
extreme indignation of the ill-conditioned female at being informed
that she is "no lady," and had "better 'old 'er jaw"; ribald and
utterly meaningless jests by the larrikins._) Order, _please_!
(_Imploringly._) I know you won't make it harder for me than you can
help. (_A young Lady in a very tall hat and feather is heard demanding
that the Gentleman in front of her should remove his "boxer," on
pain of obliging her to remove it herself; the question is argued at
length._) ... You all know the purpose for which we have ... (_Here
an enthusiastic old Lady on the drag begins to cheer aimlessly, and
wave a scrubbing-brush; the Laundresses on the lorry join in._) Well,
we're going to ask Parliament ... (_Another female in crowd_: "'Ullo,
there's Mrs. JINNINGS, along with the toffs! I want to 'ear Mrs.
JINNINGS speak, I do!") ... I shall now ask you to listen to a
speaker--Mrs. GOFFIN--who has had several years' practical experience
of laundry-work, and she will tell you, I am sure, what the hardships
and injustices are which we are trying to put an end to.
[Mrs. GOFFIN, _a stout, red-faced Lady, mounts the seat with a
cheery confidence, amidst roars of laughter, and shouts of "Go
it, old girl!" "Don't forgit to send my shirt home next week!"
&c., &c. The female in the crowd repeats her preference
for_ Mrs. JINNINGS' _oratory; a string of factory-girls, in
high-feathered hats, having just elbowed their way into the
throng, suddenly conceive a desire to "get a breath o' air
somewhere," and accordingly push and trample their way out
again with a Parthian discharge of refined raillery--after
which_ Mrs. GOFFIN's _voice becomes audible._
[Illustration: "I've been and spoke to hover forty Members o'
Parlyment myself!"]
_Mrs. Goffin_. Why, I've been and spoke to hover forty Members o'
Parlyment on the subjeck myself, I 'ave, and they was all on our
side, 'cept three or four, as was lawyers--and you know what _they_
are! (_The crowd expresses hearty disapproval of the Profession as a
body._) One on 'em sez to me, "My good woman, I'm against 'aving the
Factory Acts. I'm all for freedom, I am!" "So am _I_ all for freedom,"
I sez, "but ..." (_Here another disturbance takes place; a little man,
with red whiskers, has mildly objected to being leant upon by a burly
stranger, who bawls_--"What are you afraid on? You ain't bin fresh
painted, 'ave yer? Are yer 'oller inside--or what? Ga arn--I never
knoo a carrotty-'aired man good for anything yet," &c., &c.) Then
there's Mr. MATTHEWS, the 'OME SECKERTARY, _'e's_ against us, which
I think 'e must be a woman-'ater hisself! (_Feeling suggestion from
crowd that the_ HOME SECRETARY _has suffered a disillusion in his
younger days._) But I was goin' to tell yer what we poor women 'ave
got to put up with. Now there's a Mrs. HIRONMOULD, of Starch Row,
Hacton Green, as I've worked for. (_A Lady in crowd, who knows_ Mrs.
H. "Ah, _she's_ a beauty!" _Cheers for_ Mrs. HIRONMOULD.) Well, I'll
tell yer something about _'er_--it'll jest show you what _she_ is!
Why, that woman, as I know myself, she acshally ... (_She relates
a personal and Rabelaisian reminiscence of_ Mrs. H., _to the huge
delight of the audience._) I'll tell yer another thing--I've worked
for a man down at South End, Healing, and this'll show yer the amount
o' hinsult and hill-treatment we 'ave to stand, and never say nothing
to. I've seed 'im, hover and hover agen, walkin' about among us in his
shirtsleeves, with 'is braces 'angin' about is 'eels! (_Cheers from
the crowd; demonstration with scrubbing-brush by the old Lady in the
drag._) I 'ave indeed, and I don't tell yer no lies. (_Here a Lady in
the crowd suddenly exhibits a tendency to harangue the public on her
own wrongs, and has to be suppressed._) And that man 'e'd come up to
me and say, "Ain't them shirts finished yet?" he sez. "No," I'd say to
'im, "they ain't, and I don't deceive yer." "It's time they was," he'd
say. "Beggin' your pardon," I'd tell 'im, "it's nothink o' the kind;
and, if you don't believe _my_ word, you may go and call your Missis
out of the back kitching, as knows more about it than you do!" An' are
you goin' to tell _me_ we ain't to 'ave a Factory Act, after _that_?
[_She stands down, having made the speech of the afternoon,
and is rewarded by approving cries of "Good old girl!" An
employer of labour is next introduced, and received at first
with suspicion, until he explains that he is heart and soul
with them, that he does not dread the application of the
Factory Acts to his own establishment, and considers that it
would be an excellent thing if all the smaller laundries were
closed to-morrow, whereupon the ladies habitually employed in
these places cheer him heartily._
_A Common-Sense Speaker_. It's all very well for you to come 'ere and
protest against the laundresses workin' too long hours, but I tell yer
_this_--it's yer own fault, it's the Public's fault. You _will_ 'ave
yer clean shirts and collars sent 'ome every week! (_Several of the
unwashed betray that this thrust has gone home._) A fortnight ain't a
_bit_ too long to wait for your linen! (_Unanimous and hearty assent
by people in dingy flannels._) And if some o' these swells and
aristocrats weren't so partickler, and didn't send so much linen
to the wash as they do, why, it stands to reason as the hours the
washerwomen 'ud work 'ud be shorter!
[_Chorus of agreement; sudden unpopularity--especially, oddly
enough, with lighthearted young laundresses--of persons
in the crowd whose collars are at all aggressive in their
cleanliness; universal feeling that the blame has been fitted
upon the right shoulders at last. More speeches; simultaneous
passing of Resolution; the Processions march away with colours
flying and bands playing, and, if they have succeeded in
advancing the true interests of labour, no one will be more
gratified than their friend, Mr. Punch._
* * * * *