He was very fond of making use of the term “honest crust,” and each time he did so, he, Irish-like, pronounced it “currust.” He seemed a kind-hearted, innocent creature, half scared by want and old age.

“I’m blest if I can tell which is the best crossing in London; but mine ain’t no great shakes, for I don’t take three shilling a-week not with persons going across, take one week with another, but I thought I could get a honest currust (crust) at it, for I’ve got a crippled hand, which comed of its own accord, and I was in St. George’s Hospital seven weeks. When I comed out it was a cripple with me, and I thought the crossing was better than going into the workhouse—for I likes my liberty.

“I’ve been on this crossing since last Christmas was a twelvemonth. Before that I was a bricklayer and plasterer. I’ve been thirty-two years in London. I can get as good a character as any one anywhere, please God; for as to drunkards, and all that, I was none of them. I was earning eighteen shilling a-week, and sometimes with my overtime I’ve had twenty shilling, or even twenty-three shilling. Bricklayers is paid according to all the hours they works beyond ten, for that’s the bricklayer’s day.

“I was among the lime, and the sand, and the bricks, and then my hand come like this (he held out a hand with all the fingers drawn up towards the middle, like the claw of a dead bird). All the sinews have gone, as you see yourself, sir, so that I can’t bend it or straighten it, for the fingers are like bits of stick, and you can’t bend ’em without breaking them.

“When I couldn’t lay hold of anything, nor lift it up, I showed it to master, and he sent me to his doctor, who gived me something to rub over it, for it was swelled up like, and then I went to St. George’s Hospital, and they cut it over, and asked me if I could come in doors as in-door patient? and I said Yes, for I wanted to get it over sooner, and go back to my work, and earn an honest currust. Then they scarred it again, cut it seven times, and I was there many long weeks; and when I comed out I could not hold any tool, so I was forced to keep on pawning and pledging to keep an honest currust in my mouth, and sometimes I’d only just be with a morsel to eat, and sometimes I’d be hungry, and that’s the truth.

“What put me up to crossing-sweeping was this—I had no other thing open to me but the workhouse; but of course I’d sooner be out on my liberty, though I was entitled to go into the house, of course, but I’d sooner keep out of it if I could earn an honest currust.

“One of my neighbours persuaded me that I should pick up a good currust at a crossing. The man who had been on my crossing was gone dead, and as it was empty, I went down to the police-office, in Marylebone Lane, and they told me I might take it, and give me liberty to stop. I was told the man who had been there before me had been on it fourteen years, and them was good times for gentle and simple and all—and it was reported that this man had made a good bit of money, at least so it was said.

“I thought I could make a living out of it, or an honest currust, but it’s a very poor living, I can assure you. When I went to it first, I done pretty fair for a currust; but it’s only three shillings to me now. My missus has such bad health, or she used to help me with her needle. I can assure you, sir, it’s only one day a week as I have a bit of dinner, and I often go without breakfast and supper, too.

“I haven’t got any regular customers that allow me anything. When the families is in town sometimes they give me half-a-crown, or sixpence, now and then, perhaps once a fortnight, or a month. They’ve got footmen and servant-maids, so they never wants no parcels taken—they make them do it; but sometimes I get a penny for posting a letter from one of the maids, or something like that.

“The best day for us is Sunday. Sometimes I get a shilling, and when the families is in town eighteen pence. But when the families is away, and the weather so fine there’s no mud, and only working-people going to the chapels, they never looks at me, and then I’ll only get a shilling.”