“To do a hard day’s washing, I couldn’t. I used to go to a lady’s house to do a bit of washing when I had my strength, but I can’t do it now.
“People going to their offices at six or seven in the morning gives me a ha’penny or a penny; if they don’t, I must go without it. I go at five, and stand there till eleven or twelve, till I find it is no use being there any longer. Oh, the gentlemen give me the most, I’m sure; the ladies don’t give me nothing.
“At Christmas I get a few things—a gentleman gave me these boots I’ve got on, and a ticket for a half-quartern loaf and a hundred of coals. I have got as much as five shillings at Christmas—but those times will never come back again. I get no more than two shillings and sixpence at Christmas now.
“My husband, Thomas —— was his name, was a chimley-sweep. He did a very good business—it was all done by his sons. We had a boy with us, too, just as a friendly boy. I was a mother and a mistress to him. I’ve had eleven children. I’m grandmother to fifteen, and a great-grandmother, too. They won’t give me a bite of bread, though, any of ’em, I’ve got four children living, as far as I know, two abroad and two home here with families. I never go among ’em. It is not in my power to assist ’em, so I never go to distress ’em.
“I get two shilling a-week from the parish, and I have to pay out of that for a quartern loaf, a quartern of sugar, and an ounce of tea. The parish forces it on me, so I must take it, and that only leaves me one shilling and fourpence. A shilling of it goes for my lodging. I lodge with people who knew my family and me, and took a liking to me; they let me come there instead of wandering about the streets.
“I stand on my crossing till I’m like to drop over my broom with tiredness. Yes, sir, I go to church at St. George’s in the Borough. I go there every Sunday morning, after I leave my roads. They’ve taken the organ and charity children away that used to be there when I was a girl, so it’s not a church now, it’s a chapel. There’s nothing but the preacher and the gentlefolks, and they sings their own psalms. There are gatherings at that church, but whether it’s for the poor or not I don’t know. I don’t get any of it.
“It was a great loss to me when my husband died; I went all to ruin then. My father belonged to Scotland, at Edinboro’. My mother came from Yorkshire. I don’t know where Scotland is no more than the dead. My father was a gentleman’s gardener and watchman. My mother used to go out a-chairing, and she was drowned just by Horsemonger Lane. She was coming through the Halfpenny Hatch, that used to be just facing the Crown and Anchor, in the New Kent-road; there was an open ditch there, sir. She took the left-hand turning instead of the right, and was drownded. My father died in St. Martin’s Workhouse. He died of apoplexy fit.
“I used to mind my father’s place till mother died. His housekeeper I was—God help me! a fine one too. Thank the Lord, my husband was a clever man; he had a good seat of business. I lost my right hand when he died. I couldn’t carry it on. There was my two sons went for sogers, and the others were above their business. He left a seat of business worth a hundred pound; he served all up the New Kent-road. He was beloved by all his people. He used to climb himself when I first had him, but he left it off when he got children. I had my husband when I was fifteen, and kept him forty years. Ah! he was well-beloved by all around, except his children, and they behaved shameful. I said to his eldest son, when he lay in the hospital, (asking your pardon, sir, for mentioning it)—I says to his eldest son, ‘Billy,’ says I, ‘your father’s very bad—why don’t you go to see him?’ ‘Oh,’ says he, ‘he’s all right, he’s gettin’ better;’ and he was never the one to go and see him once; and he never come to the funeral.
“Billy thought I should come upon him after his death, but I never troubled him for as much as a crumb of bread.
“I never get spoken to on my roads, only some people say, ‘Good morning,’ ‘There you are, old lady.’ They never asks me no questions whatsomever. I never get run over, though I am very hard of hearing; but I am forced to have my eyes here, there, and everywhere, to keep out of the way of the carts and coaches.