Rise at seven. Called by public bell rung at the nearest fire-brigade
station. Light gas supplied from the Council's works at Beckton. Drink
glass of cold water from Council's new reservoir in the Kennet Valley.
Hurriedly slip into clothes made by gentlemen working an eight hours
day at not less than sixpence an hour.
Fish for breakfast bought at Council's Billingsgate Market; eggs from
Council's hens (warranted _very fresh_); also fruit from Covent Garden
sold by Council's salesmen. We keep no servants, being now obliged to
use their wages to pay rates. Compelled to open the front door myself.
Surveyor of Chimneys, acting on instructions (received from sweep),
calls to examine flues. Reports them foul, and notes me in his summons
book. Council's revenue inspector (Inland Revenue absorbed) peeping
through half-opened breakfast-room door, spies what my children call
"a duck on stilts" engraved on a fork. Reports me at once for not
having a license to use armorial bearings. Find in letter-box notice
of compulsory purchase by Council for "allotment purposes" of a choice
piece of land belonging to me just on border of county. Am privately
informed that Radical Labourers' League have moved half-a-dozen
good-for-nothing drunken chaps to apply for allotments! Mine is the
only land that will suit them, and they intend to take it whether I
like it or no.
Just starting for the City, when Council's Architect calls, to draw my
attention to a sky-sign insufficiently secured to an upper window. It
turned out to be eldest boy's socks, hung there to dry, as we have
now to wash at home, or send to the Council's laundries which are
relief-works for those usually unemployed in winter. Other casuals
have turned barbers. I am shaved by one every morning, after slipping
the coppers into a County Council "detector," which gives no change.
In street, find the pavement up, "unemployed" engaged in moving
"immovable objects by irresistible force," _i.e._, a frozen road, at
three shillings per cube foot; Council their own contractors. Tram
at last, with Council-driver, conductor, and horses (all tramways
absorbed), and then a penny Council steamer (Thames Conservancy and
Steamboat Companies absorbed), and, having landed at St. Paul's Pier,
trip over a hole in the road. Bring action against Council for damaged
ankle. (N.B. Lost it later on. Council not liable for non-reparation
of holes.)
At the Guildhall, find Labour Arbitration Court sitting. City and
County been amalgamated, huge coalheavers, dockers, and others occupy
seats of city fathers. Police outside useless. Their helmets and
truncheons in British Museum as relics of Barbarous Age.
Having business at a suburban town I hire cab (Council Number 23,351)
and drive to Liverpool Street. The progressive members have bought up
Great Eastern Railway within the county's boundaries, and are working
it on their own system--one class for all, penny fare, and no return
ticket. The guards, ticket-collectors, porters, and others civil
enough, but no trains running, in consequence of great strike having
occurred amongst Council's engine-drivers and the difficulty is just
being settled by arbitration at Guildhall. The men had struck for
_want_ of work and a general desire for "betterment." Thoughtfully
walked back to the office, and arrived just in time to find an
official poring over my ledger. He hands me his card, "Mr. INQUISITOR,
Spring Gardens." Somerset House being absorbed, he says he "has just
called to ascertain exactly what my income really is," and though I am
perfectly civil (under pains and penalties of "civility bye-laws"), he
tells me I must be "put up" next year. He departs, leaving front door
open.
Got a cup of tea, very poor staff, at the L. C. C. Restaurant. Walk
home. No gas in streets, and the Electric Light (lately absorbed) gone
out. Reached home very weary. Find on table demand-notes for Poor,
Police, Sewers, School Board, Highways, Gas, Electric Light, Baths,
Sanitary, Insanitary, Asylum, Water, Railway, Cab, Theatre, Market,
Sky Sign, Bar and Gates, Tramway, Prisons, Restaurants, Arbitration,
Establishment, Thames Conservancy, Submerged Tenth, and many other
rates. Is life worth living? Ask the L. C. C.
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