they wi'n do some day." We had not many yards to go to the next
place, which was a poor cottage in Fletcher's Row, where a family of
eight persons resided. There was very little furniture in the place,
but I noticed a small shelf of books in a corner by the window. A
feeble woman, upwards of seventy years old, sat upon a stool tending
the cradle of a sleeping infant. This infant was the youngest of
five children, the oldest of the five was seven years of age. The
mother of the three-weeks-old infant had just gone out to the mill
to claim her work from the person who had been filling her place
during her confinement. The old woman said that the husband was "a
grinder in a card-room when they geet wed, an' he addled about 8s. a
week; but, after they geet wed, his wife larn't him to weighve upo'
th' peawer-looms." She said that she was no relation to them, but
she nursed, and looked after the house for them. "They connot afford
to pay mo nought," continued she, "but aw fare as they fare'n, an'
they dunnot want to part wi' me. Aw'm not good to mich, but aw can
manage what they wanten, yo see'n. Aw never trouble't noather teawn
nor country i' my life, an' aw hope aw never shall for the bit o'
time aw have to do on." She said that the Board of Guardians had
allowed the family 10s. a week for the two first weeks of the wife's
confinement, but now their income amounted to a little less than one
shilling a head per week.

Leaving this house, we turned round the corner into St Mary's Street
North. Here we found a clean-looking young working man standing
shivering by a cottage door, with his hands in his pockets. He was
dressed in well-mended fustian, and he had a cloth cap on his head.
His face had a healthy hunger-nipt look. "Hollo," said my friend, "I
thought you was working on the moor." "Ay," replied the young man,
"Aw have bin, but we'n bin rain't off this afternoon." "Is there