As the procession drew near, Sawkins steered the cart into the kerb and halted as they went past. There were about three hundred men altogether, marching four abreast. They carried three large white banners with black letters, “Thanks to our Subscribers”, “In aid of Genuine Unemployed”, “The Children must be Fed”. Although there were a number of artisans in the procession, the majority of the men belonged to what is called the unskilled labourer class. The skilled artisan does not as a rule take part in such a procession except as a very last resource... And all the time he strives to keep up an appearance of being well-to-do, and would be highly indignant if anyone suggested that he was really in a condition of abject, miserable poverty. Although he knows that his children are often not so well fed as are the pet dogs and cats of his “betters”, he tries to bluff his neighbours into thinking that he has some mysterious private means of which they know nothing, and conceals his poverty as if it were a crime. Most of this class of men would rather starve than beg. Consequently not more than a quarter of the men in the procession were skilled artisans; the majority were labourers.
There was also a sprinkling of those unfortunate outcasts of society—tramps and destitute, drunken loafers. If the self-righteous hypocrites who despise these poor wretches had been subjected to the same conditions, the majority of them would inevitably have become the same as these.
Haggard and pale, shabbily or raggedly dressed, their boots broken and down at heel, they slouched past. Some of them stared about with a dazed or half-wild expression, but most of them walked with downcast eyes or staring blankly straight in front of them. They appeared utterly broken-spirited, hopeless and ashamed...
“Anyone can see what THEY are,” sneered Crass, “there isn’t fifty genuine tradesmen in the whole crowd, and most of ’em wouldn’t work if they ’ad the offer of it.”
“That’s just what I was thinkin’,” agreed Sawkins with a laugh.
“There will be plenty of time to say that when they have been offered work and have refused to do it,” said Owen.
“This sort of thing does the town a lot of ’arm,” remarked Slyme; “it oughtn’t to be allowed; the police ought to stop it. It’s enough to drive all the gentry out of the place!”
“Bloody disgraceful, I call it,” said Crass, “marchin’ along the Grand Parade on a beautiful day like this, just at the very time when most of the gentry is out enjoyin’ the fresh hair.”
“I suppose you think they ought to stay at home and starve quietly,” said Owen. “I don’t see why these men should care what harm they do to the town; the town doesn’t seem to care much what becomes of THEM.”
“Do you believe in this sort of thing, then?” asked Slyme.