Our laundresses boast of a separate establishment, which they have called Primrose Cottage, probably after the Primrose League, of which they have heard. This is a long room with a long green-baize-covered table, communicating with the laundry. A short time ago it was a sort of outhouse; now it is a sitting and dining-room, adorned with texts. If funds only came in, many other tumble-down and ill-paved portions of this country seat might be vastly amended. But neither Rome nor Woodhouse was built or repaired in a day. Soon, however, we hope to see a splendid drying-ground replace the present one, for the asphalted roof of the laundries offers every facility for it. If we may be permitted to make a personal remark, we would venture to say that a rosier, healthier set of laundry-girls could nowhere be seen, and the roses extend from face to arms. As we descend from Primrose Cottage to the laundry, we are arrested by a remark made by the secretary, as he points upwards to an iron girder—
“This was a great encouragement to me. This iron came from Providence, and bears that name. I took it as a good sign, and worked on in faith,” he says.
Assuredly there is the word “Providence” stamped on the iron, and we will not pause to inquire whence its origin, but hasten onwards to see what the Divine Providence is doing for His rescued children, and what He requires us to do.
Most of them are in the playground, and their ringing voices and laughter sound mirthful, and convey no impression of the depraved homes from which they have been taken. About a dozen of them, however, are gathered round a fire in what is called their playroom, which might be better paved and appointed, if only those—we dare not mention funds again in this place, seeing we are about to make an appeal vigorous enough to melt hearts harder than these very rough stones on which the children play. A bundle of picture text cards attracts the whole school into the playroom, and we are soon surrounded by about fifty girls of ages varying from eleven to fifteen and over, all thankful for very small mercies. We are thus enabled to declare them very well-mannered; for instead of pressing forward to seize on the coveted card, they stand back, each urging a companion to the front. Slight touches indicate character and training, and this reticence speaks for itself. In spite of many difficulties inseparable from the education of girls mostly born and bred in a doubtful atmosphere, it is possible to cultivate a certain delicacy and refinement amongst them.
“I am sorry to be obliged to leave you; but I am going to take this girl to her place,” interrupts the matron, as a respectable-looking, neatly-dressed maiden appears amongst her schoolfellows to bid them good-bye.
She has passed her term of years in the Home, and is about to make her start in life. A good outfit and a respectable place have been provided for her somewhere in Kent, and the kind matron will not lose sight of her until she places her in the care of her new mistress. Indeed, the girls are never lost sight of, as their touching letters and frequent returns home prove, as well as the communications made to the matron on each change of place.
“If you keep your situation and have a good character for one clear year, the committee will give you a guinea as a reward, together with a new dress,” says the secretary, encouragingly.
How little we realise the feelings of the young servant as she leaves the best home she has known for a stranger one, and hurries off to the train about to whirl her away into a new world! When we inquire her previous history, we are told that she was “surrounded by immoral influences, and rescued just in time.”
Let us hope that her mistress will be able to write of her as many mistresses have written this year of girls sent to service before her—in terms of high commendation. Here are one or two extracts:—“Mary has been in my service for three years, and I have much pleasure in testifying to her continued good behaviour. She works hard, is very trustworthy, and I should be very sorry to part with her.” “Ellen is a very good girl, and during the two years she has been with me has given me great satisfaction. I hope she may remain with me many years,” etc.
When we consider what may have been the fate of these young people had not friends of the Home intervened, we are thankful for what our readers have done to help them. We are attracted by one who sits rather apart, and is bigger than the others. She was rescued from a life of such awful terrorism that even now, when reproved, she hides under the beds, creeping from one to another like a wild animal. She has, it is said, lost half her wits from fear; but it is hoped that kindness may recall them from their “wool-gathering.” She seems less perplexed than she was.