“Not to desave you, sir, I get a shillin’ a-week from one of my childer and ninepence from another, and a little hilp from some of the others. I have siven childer livin’, and have had tin. They are very much scattered: two are abroad; one is in the tinth Hussars—he is kind to me. The one who allows me ninepence is a basket-maker at Reading; and the shillin’ I get from my daughter, a servant, sir. One of my sons died in the Crimmy; he was in the 13th Light Dragoons, and died at Scutari, on the 25th of May. They could not hilp me more than they thry to do, sir.
“I only make about two shilling a-week here, sir; and sometimes I don’t take three ha’pence a day. On Sundays I take about sivenpence, ninepence, or tinpence, ’cordin’ as I see the people who give rigular.
“Weather makes no difference to me—for, though the sum is small, I am a rigular pinsioner like of theirs. I go to Somer’s-town Chapel, being a Catholic, for I’m not ashamed to own my religion before any man. When I go, it is at siven in the evening. Sometimes I go to St. Pathrick’s Chapel, Soho-square. I have not been to confission for two or three years—the last time was to Mr. Stanton, at St. Pathrick’s.
“There’s a poor woman, sir, who goes past here every Friday to get her pay from the parish, and, as sure as she comes back again, she gives me a ha’penny—she does, indeed. Sometimes the baker or the greengrocer gives me a ha’penny for minding their baskets.
“I’m perfectly satisfied; it’s no use to grumble, and I might be worrus off, sir. Yes, I go of arrinds some times; fitch water now and then, and post letters; but I do no odd jobs, such as hilping the servants to clean the knives, or such-like. No: they wouldn’t let me behint the shadow of their doors.”
A Third who asked Leave.
This one was a mild and rather intelligent man, in a well worn black dress-coat and waistcoat, a pair of “moleskin” trousers, and a blue-and-white cotton neckerchief. I found him sweeping the crossing at the end of —— place, opposite the church.
He every now and then regaled himself with a pinch of snuff, which seemed to light up his careworn face. He seemed very willing to afford me information. He said:—
“I have been on this crossing four years. I am a bricklayer by trade; but you see how my fingers have gone: it’s all rheumatics, sir. I took a great many colds. I had a great deal of underground work, and that tries a man very much.
“How did I get the crossing? Well, I took it—I came as a cas’alty. No one ever interfered with me. If one man leaves a crossing, well, another takes it.