in darkest england and the way out-第8部分

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d　life　is　also　very　hard　he　says；　for　those　who　are　not　used　to　it；　and　there　is　not　enough　to　eat。　Has　had　to…day　a　pen'orth　of　bread；　for　minding　a　cab。　　Yesterday　he　spent　3　1/2d。　on　a　breakfast；　and　that　lasted　him　all　day。　　Age　25。

No。　10。　　Been　out　of　work　a　month。　　Carman　by　trade。　　Arm　withered；　and　cannot　do　work　properly。　　Has　slept　here　all　the　week；　got　an　awful　cold　through　the　wet。　　Lives　at　odd　jobs　（they　all　do）。　　Got　sixpence　yesterday　for　minding　a　cab　and　carrying　a　couple　of　parcels。　Earned　nothing　to…day；　but　had　one　good　meal；　a　lady　gave　it　him。　Has　been　walking　about　all　day　looking　for　work；　and　is　tired　out。

No。　11。　　Youth；　aged　16。　　Sad　case；　Londoner。　　Works　at　odd　jobs　and　matches　selling。　　Has　taken　3d。　to…day；　i。e。；　net　profit　1　1/2d。　　Has　five　boxes　still。　　Has　slept　here　every　night　for　a　month。　　Before　that　slept　in　Covent　Garden　Market　or　on　doorsteps。　　Been　sleeping　out　six　months；　since　he　left　Feltham　Industrial　School。　　Was　sent　there　for　playing　truant。　　Has　had　one　bit　of　bread　to…day；　yesterday　had　only　some　gooseberries　and　cherries；　i。e。；　bad　ones　that　had　been　thrown　away。　　Mother　is　alive。　　She　〃chucked　him　out〃　when　he　returned　home　on　leaving　Feltham　because　he　could'nt　find　her　money　for　drink。

No。　12。　　Old　man；　age　67。　　Seems　to　take　rather　a　humorous　view　of　the　position。　　Kind　of　Mark　Tapley。　　Says　he　can't　say　he　does　like　it；　but　then　he　must　like　it！　　Ha；　ha！　　Is　a　slater　by　trade。　　Been　out　of　work　some　time；　younger　men　naturally　get　the　work。　　Gets　a　bit　of　bricklaying　sometimes；　can　turn　his　hand　to　anything。　　Goes　miles　and　gets　nothing。　　Earned　one　and　twopence　this　week　at　holding　horses。　Finds　it　hard；　certainly。　　Used　to　care　once；　and　get　down…hearted；　but　that's　no　good；　don't　trouble　now。　　Had　a　bit　of　bread　and　butter　and　cup　of　coffee　to…day。　　Health　is　awful　bad；　not　half　the　size　he　was；　exposure　and　want　of　food　is　the　cause；　got　wet　last　night；　and　is　very　stiff　in　consequence。　　Has　been　walking　about　since　it　was　light；　that　is　3　a。m。　　Was　so　cold　and　wet　and　weak；　scarcely　knew　what　to　do。　Walked　to　Hyde　Park；　and　got　a　little　sleep　there　on　a　dry　seat　as　soon　as　the　park　opened。

These　are　fairly　typical　cases　of　the　men　who　are　now　wandering　homeless　through　the　streets。　　That　is　the　way　in　which　the　nomads　of　civilization　are　constantly　being　recruited　from　above。

Such　are　the　stories　gathered　at　random　one　Midsummer　night　this　year　under　the　shade　of　the　plane　trees　of　the　Embankment。　　A　month　later；　when　one　of　my　staff　took　the　census　of　the　sleepers　out　of　doors　along　the　line　of　the　Thames　from　Blackfriars　to　Westminster；　he　found　three　hundred　and　sixty…eight　persons　sleeping　in　the　open　air。　　Of　these；　two　hundred　and　seventy　were　on　the　Embankment　proper；　and　ninety…eight　in　and　about　Covent　Garden　Market；　while　the　recesses　of　Waterloo　and　Blackfriars　Bridges　were　full　of　human　misery。

This；　be　it　remembered；　was　not　during　a　season　of　bad　trade。　The　revival　of　business　has　been　attested　on　all　hands；　notably　by　the　barometer　of　strong　drink。　　England　is　prosperous　enough　to　drink　rum　in　quantities　which　appall　the　Chancellor　of　the　Exchequer　but　she　is　not　prosperous　enough　to　provide　other　shelter　than　the　midnight　sky　for　these　poor　outcasts　on　the　Embankment。

To　very　many　even　of　those　who　live　in　London　it　may　be　news　that　there　are　so　many　hundreds　who　sleep　out　of　doors　every　night。　　There　are　comparatively　few　people　stirring　after　midnight；　and　when　we　are　snugly　tucked　into　our　own　beds　we　are　apt　to　forget　the　multitude　outside　in　the　rain　and　the　storm　who　are　shivering　the　long　hours　through　on　the　hard　stone　seats　in　the　open　or　under　the　arches　of　the　railway。　　These　homeless；　hungry　people　are；　however　there；　but　being　broken…spirited　folk　for　the　most　part　they　seldom　make　their　voices　audible　in　the　ears　of　their　neighbours。　　Now　and　again；　however；　a　harsh　cry　from　the　depths　is　heard　for　a　moment；　jarring　rudely　upon　the　ear　and　then　all　is　still。　　The　inarticulate　classes　speak　as　seldom　as　Balaam's　ass。　　But　they　sometimes　find　a　voice。　　Here　for　instance　is　one　such　case　which　impressed　me　much。　　It　was　reported　in　one　of　the　Liverpool　papers　some　time　back。　　The　speaker　was　haranguing　a　small　knot　of　twenty　or　thirty　men：　

〃My　lads；〃　he　commenced；　with　one　hand　in　the　breast　of　his　ragged　vest；　and　the　other；　as　usual；　plucking　nervously　at　his　beard；　〃This　kind　o'　work　can't　last　for　ever。〃　　（Deep　and　earnest　exclamations；　〃It　can't！　It　shan't〃）　〃Well；　boys；〃　continued　the　speaker；　〃Somebody'll　have　to　find　a　road　out　o'　this。　　What　we　want　is　work；　not　work'us　bounty；　though　the　parish　has　been　busy　enough　amongst　us　lately；　God　knows！　　What　we　want　is　honest　work；　（Hear；　hear。）　Now；　what　I　propose　is　that　each　of　you　gets　fifty　mates　to　join　you；　that'll　make　about　1；200　starving　chapsAnd　then？〃　asked　several　very　gaunt　and　hungry…looking　men　excitedly。　〃Why；　then；〃　continued　the　leader。　　〃Why；　then；〃　interrupted　a　cadaverous…looking　man　from　the　farther　and　darkest　end　of　the　cellar；　〃of　course　we'll　make　aLondon　job　of　it；　eh？〃　〃No；　no；〃　hastily　interposed　my　friend；　and　holding　up　his　hands　deprecatingly；　〃we'll　go　peaceably　about　it　chaps；　we'll　go　in　a　body　to　the　Town　Hall；　and　show　our　poverty；　and　ask　for　work。　　We'll　take　the　women　and　children　with　us　too。〃　　（〃Too　ragged！　　Too　starved！　　They　can't　walk　it！〃）　〃The　women's　rags　is　no　disgrace；　the　staggerin'　children　'll　show　what　we　come　to。　Let's　go　a　thousand　strong；　and　ask　for　work　and　bread！〃

Three　years　ago；　in　London；　there　were　some　such　processions。　　Church　parades　to　the　Abbey　and　St。　Paul's；　bivouacs　in　Trafalgar　Square；　etc。　But　Lazarus　showed　his　rags　and　his　sores　too　conspicuously　for　the　convenience　of　Dives；　and　was　summarily　dealt　with　in　the　name　of　law　and　order。　　But　as　we　have　Lord　Mayor's　Days；　when　all　the　well…fed　fur…clad　City　Fathers　go　in　State　Coaches　through　the　town；　why　should　we　not　have　a　Lazarus　Day；　in　which　the　starving　Out…of…Works；　and　the　sweated　half…starved　〃in…works〃　of　London　should　crawl　in　their　tattered　raggedness；　with　their　gaunt；　hungry　faces；　and　emaciated　Wives　and　children；　a　Procession　of　Despair　through　the　main　thoroughfares　past　the　massive　houses　and　princely　palaces　of　luxurious　London？

For　these　men　are　gradually；　but　surely；　being　sucked　down　into　the　quicksand　of　modern　life。　　They　stretch　out　their　grimy　hands　to　us　in　vain　appeal；　not　for　charity；　but　for　work。

Work；　work！　it　is　always　work　that　they　ask。　　The　Divine　curse　is　to　them　the　most　blessed　of　benedictions。　　〃In　the　sweat　of　thy　brow　thou　shalt　eat　thy　bread；〃　but　alas　for　these　forlorn　sons　of　Adam；　they　fail　to　find　the　bread　to　eat；　for　Society　has　no　work　for　them　to　do。　They　have　not　even　leave　to　sweat。　　As　well　as　discussing　how　these　poor　wanderers　should　in　the　second　Adam　〃all　be　made　alive；〃　ought　we　not　to　put　forth　some　effort　to　effect　their　restoration　to　that　share　in　the　heritage　of　lab　our　which　is　theirs　by　right　of　descent　from　the　first　Adam？


CHAPTER　4。　　THE　OUT…OF…WORKS

There　is　hardly　any　more　pathetic　figure　than　that　of　the　strong　able　worker　crying　plaintively　in　the　midst　of　our　palaces　and　churches　not　for　charity；　but　for　work；　asking　only　to　be　allowed　the　privilege　of　perpetual　hard　labour；　that　thereby　he　may　earn　wherewith　to　fill　his　empty　belly　and　silence　the　cry　of　his　children　for　food。　　Crying　for　it　and　not　getting　it；　seeking　for　labour　as　lost　treasure　and　finding　it　not；　until　at　last；　all　spirit　and　vigour　worn　out　in　the　weary　quest；　the　once　willing　worker　becomes　a　broken…down　drudge；　sodden　with　wretchedness　and　despairing　of　all　help　in　this　world　or　in　that　which　is　to　come。　　Our　organisation　of　industry　certainly　leaves　much　to　be　desired。　　A　problem　which　even　slave　owners　have　solved　ought　not　to　be　abandoned　as　insoluble　by　the　Christian　civilisation　of　the　Nineteenth　Century。

I　have　already　given　a　few　life　stories　taken　down　from　the　lip：　　of　those　who　were　found　homeless　on　the　Embankment　which　suggest　somewhat　of　the　hardships　and　the　misery　of　the　fruitless　search　for　work。　But　what　a　volume　of　dull；　squalid　horrora　horror　of　great　darkness　gradually　obscuring　all　the　light　of　day　from　the　life　of　the　sufferer　might　be　written　from　the　simple　prosaic　experiences　of　the　ragged　fellows　whom　you　meet　every　day　in　the　street。　　These　men；　whose　labour　is　their　only　capital；　are　allowed；　nay　compelled　to　waste　day　after　day　by　the　want　of　any　means　of　employment；　and　then　when　they　have　seen　days　and　weeks　roll　by　during　which　their　capital　has　been　wasted　by　pounds　and　pounds；　they　are　lectured　for　not　saving　the　pence。　When　a　rich　man　cannot　employ　his　capital　he　puts　it　out　at　interest；　but　the　bank　for　the　labour　capital　of　the　poor　man　has　yet　to　be　invented。　　Yet　it　might　be　worth　while　inventing　one。　　A　man's　labour　is　not　only　his　capital　but　his　life。　　When　it　passes　it　returns　never　more。　　To　utilise　it；　to　prevent　its　wasteful　squandering；　to　enable　the　poor　man　to　bank　it　up　for　use　hereafter；　this　surely　is　one　of　the　most　urgent　tasks　before　civilisation。

Of　all　heart…breaking　toil　the　hunt　for　work　is　surely　the　worst。　Yet　at　any　mom