carriage, and the poor starved, gaunt woman who lives in one room up
many pairs of stairs in a dismal back slum, look alike out on the
waters of the Mersey for the boy who may come back any day with the
taste of the sea about him.

The Liverpool boy has his work cut out for him; those who wish to
belong emphatically to the place of their birth, either earn what they
can at the docks or go to sea. They need never debate as to their
profession or their calling in life; it is cut out for them--it lies
at their feet with that sea which is brought by the ships to their
very doors.

But the Liverpool girl--that is, the girl of the people--is not so
fortunate. She has no special work provided for her; she is not like
the Manchester girl, who is as certain to go into the factory as she
is to eat and drink--there are scarcely any factories in Liverpool,
and a very tiny proportion of girls find work there.

Domestic service is hated by the Liverpool lass. At one time, when
forced by necessity to adopt this means of earning her bread, she made
a stipulation that she should at least sleep at home--that her evenings
from seven o'clock out should be her own. Now that this rule is no
longer allowed, domestic service is held in less esteem than ever, and
only the most sensible girls dream of availing themselves of its
comforts.

While the boys, therefore, are earning and striking out independent
paths for themselves, the girls are under difficulties. They must earn
money; for life is not too easy to live in their native place, and
each must bring in his or her small portion of help to the family