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Margaret Wynne Nevinson. Workhouse Characters, and other sketches of the life of the poor
Workhouse Characters, and other sketches of the life of the poor
Table of Contents
PREFACE
EUNICE SMITH—DRUNK
DETAINED BY MARITAL AUTHORITY
A WELSH SAILOR
THE VOW
BLIND AND DEAF
"AND, BEHOLD, THE BABE WEPT"
"MARY, MARY, PITY WOMEN!"
THE SUICIDE
PUBLICANS AND HARLOTS
OLD INKY
A DAUGHTER OF THE STATE
IN THE PHTHISIS WARD
AN IRISH CATHOLIC
AN OBSCURE CONVERSATIONIST
MOTHERS
"YOUR SON'S YOUR SON"
"TOO OLD AT FORTY"
IN THE LUNATIC ASYLUM
THE SWEEP'S LEGACY
AN ALIEN[1]
Footnote
"WIDOWS INDEED"
THE RUNAWAY
"A GIRL! GOD HELP HER!"
ON THE PERMANENT LIST
THE PAUPER AND THE OLD-AGE PENSION[2]
Footnote
THE EVACUATION OF THE WORKHOUSE
Отрывок из книги
Margaret Wynne Nevinson
Published by Good Press, 2021
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"No, it warn't for want of asking; fact is, I was put off marriage at a very early age. I 'ad a drunken beast of a father as spent his time a-drinking by day and a-beating mother by night—one night he overdid it and killed 'er; he got imprisonment for life, and we was put away in the workhouse schools; it would have been kinder of the parish to put us in the lethal chamber, as they do to cats and dogs as ain't wanted. But we grew up somehow, knowing as we weren't wanted, and then the parish found me a situation, under-housemaid in a big house; and then I found as the young master wanted me, the first time as any human soul had taken any interest in me, and, oh, Lord! I laughs now when I think what a 'appy time it was. Since then I've had four children, and I have twenty-five shillings a week coming in regular besides what I can make at the cooking. I lives clean and respectable—no drinking, no bad language; my children never see nor hear what I saw and heard, and they are mine—mine—mine. I always comes into the House for confinement, liking quiet and skilled medical attendance. I never gets refused—the law daren't refuse such as me. I always leaves the coming in till the last moment; then there are no awkward questions, and when they begin to inquire as to settlement, I'm off. All the women in our street are expecting next week, their husbands all out of work, and not a pair of sheets or the price of a pint of milk between them, all lying in one room, too, with children and husbands about, as I don't consider decent, but having the lines, it's precious hard for them to get in here, and half of them daren't come for fear he and some one else will sell up the 'ome whilst they're away. You remember Mrs. Hall, who died here last week? Well, she told me that her husband swore at her so fearful for having twins that the doctor sent her in here out of his way, and what with all the upset and the starvation whilst she was carrying the children, she took fever and snuffed out like a candle. No, the neighbours don't know as I'm a bad woman; I generally moves before a confinement, and I 'as a 'usband on the 'igh seas.
"Well, I'm going back to-morrow to my neat little home, that my lady-help has been minding for me, to my dear children and to my regular income, and I don't say as I envies you married ladies your rings or your slavery."
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