Johnson, president of the society, told of the extreme destitution in
which she had that morning found a poor English family, who had moved
into the village two or three years before.

They had managed to earn a comfortable living until the husband and
father suddenly died, since which time the wife's health had been very
rapidly failing, until now she was no longer able to work, but was
wholly dependent for subsistence upon the exertions of her oldest
child Frank, and the charity of the villagers, who sometimes supplied
her with far more than was necessary, and again thoughtlessly
neglected her for many days. Her chief dependence, too, had now failed
her, for the day before the sewing society, Frank had been taken
seriously ill with what threatened to be scarlet fever.

"Dear me," said the elegant Mrs. Campbell, smoothing the folds of her
rich India muslin--"dear me, I did not know that we had such poverty
among us. What will they do?"

"They'll have to go to the poor-house, won't they?"

"To the poor-house!" repeated Mrs. Lincoln, who spent her winters in
Boston, and whose summer residence was in the neighborhood of the
pauper's home, "pray don't send any more low, vicious children to the
poor-house. My Jenny has a perfect passion for them, and it is with
difficulty I can keep her away."

"They are English, I believe," continued Mrs. Campbell. "I do wonder
why so many of those horridly miserable creatures will come to this
country."