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eight noisy madwomen were gathered together; under the

superintendence of one sane attendant。  Among them was a girl of

two or three and twenty; very prettily dressed; of most respectable

appearance and good manners; who had been brought in from the house

where she had lived as domestic servant (having; I suppose; no

friends); on account of being subject to epileptic fits; and

requiring to be removed under the influence of a very bad one。  She

was by no means of the same stuff; or the same breeding; or the

same experience; or in the same state of mind; as those by whom she

was surrounded; and she pathetically complained that the daily

association and the nightly noise made her worse; and was driving

her mad … which was perfectly evident。  The case was noted for

inquiry and redress; but she said she had already been there for

some weeks。



If this girl had stolen her mistress's watch; I do not hesitate to

say she would have been infinitely better off。  We have come to

this absurd; this dangerous; this monstrous pass; that the

dishonest felon is; in respect of cleanliness; order; diet; and

accommodation; better provided for; and taken care of; than the

honest pauper。



And this conveys no special imputation on the workhouse of the

parish of St。 So…and…So; where; on the contrary; I saw many things

to commend。  It was very agreeable; recollecting that most infamous

and atrocious enormity committed at Tooting … an enormity which; a

hundred years hence; will still be vividly remembered in the bye…

ways of English life; and which has done more to engender a gloomy

discontent and suspicion among many thousands of the people than

all the Chartist leaders could have done in all their lives … to

find the pauper children in this workhouse looking robust and well;

and apparently the objects of very great care。  In the Infant

School … a large; light; airy room at the top of the building … the

little creatures; being at dinner; and eating their potatoes

heartily; were not cowed by the presence of strange visitors; but

stretched out their small hands to be shaken; with a very pleasant

confidence。  And it was comfortable to see two mangy pauper

rocking…horses rampant in a corner。  In the girls' school; where

the dinner was also in progress; everything bore a cheerful and

healthy aspect。  The meal was over; in the boys' school; by the

time of our arrival there; and the room was not yet quite

rearranged; but the boys were roaming unrestrained about a large

and airy yard; as any other schoolboys might have done。  Some of

them had been drawing large ships upon the schoolroom wall; and if

they had a mast with shrouds and stays set up for practice (as they

have in the Middlesex House of Correction); it would be so much the

better。  At present; if a boy should feel a strong impulse upon him

to learn the art of going aloft; he could only gratify it; I

presume; as the men and women paupers gratify their aspirations

after better board and lodging; by smashing as many workhouse

windows as possible; and being promoted to prison。



In one place; the Newgate of the Workhouse; a company of boys and

youths were locked up in a yard alone; their day…room being a kind

of kennel where the casual poor used formerly to be littered down

at night。  Divers of them had been there some long time。  'Are they

never going away?' was the natural inquiry。  'Most of them are

crippled; in some form or other;' said the Wardsman; 'and not fit

for anything。'  They slunk about; like dispirited wolves or

hyaenas; and made a pounce at their food when it was served out;

much as those animals do。  The big…headed idiot shuffling his feet

along the pavement; in the sunlight outside; was a more agreeable

object everyway。



Groves of babies in arms; groves of mothers and other sick women in

bed; groves of lunatics; jungles of men in stone…paved down…stairs

day…rooms; waiting for their dinners; longer and longer groves of

old people; in up…stairs Infirmary wards; wearing out life; God

knows how … this was the scenery through which the walk lay; for

two hours。  In some of these latter chambers; there were pictures

stuck against the wall; and a neat display of crockery and pewter

on a kind of sideboard; now and then it was a treat to see a plant

or two; in almost every ward there was a cat。



In all of these Long Walks of aged and infirm; some old people were

bedridden; and had been for a long time; some were sitting on their

beds half…naked; some dying in their beds; some out of bed; and

sitting at a table near the fire。  A sullen or lethargic

indifference to what was asked; a blunted sensibility to everything

but warmth and food; a moody absence of complaint as being of no

use; a dogged silence and resentful desire to be left alone again;

I thought were generally apparent。  On our walking into the midst

of one of these dreary perspectives of old men; nearly the

following little dialogue took place; the nurse not being

immediately at hand:



'All well here?'



No answer。  An old man in a Scotch cap sitting among others on a

form at the table; eating out of a tin porringer; pushes back his

cap a little to look at us; claps it down on his forehead again

with the palm of his hand; and goes on eating。



'All well here?' (repeated)。



No answer。  Another old man sitting on his bed; paralytically

peeling a boiled potato; lifts his head and stares。



'Enough to eat?'



No answer。  Another old man; in bed; turns himself and coughs。



'How are YOU to…day?'  To the last old man。



That old man says nothing; but another old man; a tall old man of

very good address; speaking with perfect correctness; comes forward

from somewhere; and volunteers an answer。  The reply almost always

proceeds from a volunteer; and not from the person looked at or

spoken to。



'We are very old; sir;' in a mild; distinct voice。  'We can't

expect to be well; most of us。'



'Are you comfortable?'



'I have no complaint to make; sir。'  With a half shake of his head;

a half shrug of his shoulders; and a kind of apologetic smile。



'Enough to eat?'



'Why; sir; I have but a poor appetite;' with the same air as

before; 'and yet I get through my allowance very easily。'



'But;' showing a porringer with a Sunday dinner in it; 'here is a

portion of mutton; and three potatoes。  You can't starve on that?'



'Oh dear no; sir;' with the same apologetic air。  'Not starve。'



'What do you want?'



'We have very little bread; sir。  It's an exceedingly small

quantity of bread。'



The nurse; who is now rubbing her hands at the questioner's elbow;

interferes with; 'It ain't much raly; sir。  You see they've only

six ounces a day; and when they've took their breakfast; there CAN

only be a little left for night; sir。'



Another old man; hitherto invisible; rises out of his bed…clothes;

as out of a grave; and looks on。



'You have tea at night?'  The questioner is still addressing the

well…spoken old man。



'Yes; sir; we have tea at night。'



'And you save what bread you can from the morning; to eat with it?'



'Yes; sir … if we can save any。'



'And you want more to eat with it?'



'Yes; sir。'  With a very anxious face。



The questioner; in the kindness of his heart; appears a little

discomposed; and changes the subject。



'What has become of the old man who used to lie in that bed in the

corner?'



The nurse don't remember what old man is referred to。  There has

been such a many old men。  The well…spoken old man is doubtful。

The spectral old man who has come to life in bed; says; 'Billy

Stevens。'  Another old man who has previously had his head in the

fireplace; pipes out;



'Charley Walters。'



Something like a feeble interest is awakened。  I suppose Charley

Walters had conversation in him。



'He's dead;' says the piping old man。



Another old man; with one eye screwed up; hastily displaces the

piping old man; and says。



'Yes!  Charley Walters died in that bed; and … and … '



'Billy Stevens;' persists the spectral old man。



'No; no! and Johnny Rogers died in that bed; and … and … they're

both on 'em dead … and Sam'l Bowyer;' this seems very extraordinary

to him; 'he went out!'



With this he subsides; and all the old men (having had quite enough

of it) subside; and the spectral old man goes into his grave again;

and takes the shade of Billy Stevens with him。



As we turn to go out at the door; another previously invisible old

man; a hoarse old man in a flannel gown; is standing there; as if

he had just come up through the floor。



'I beg your pardon; sir; could I take the liberty of saying a

word?'



'Yes; what is it?'



'I am greatly better in my health; sir; but what I want; to get me

quite round;' with his hand on his throat; 'is a little fresh air;

sir。  It has always done my complaint so much good; sir。  The

regular leave for going out; comes round so seldom; that if the

gentlemen; next Friday; would give me leave to go out walking; now

and then … for only an hour or so; sir! … '



Who could wonder; looking through those weary vistas of bed and

infirmity; that it should do him good to meet with some other

scenes; and assure himself that there was something else on earth?

Who could help wondering why the old men lived on as they did; what

grasp they had on life; what crumbs of interest or occupation they

could pick up from its bare board; whether Charley Walters had ever

described to them the days when he kept company with some old

pauper woman in the bud; or Billy Stevens ever told them of the

time when he was a dweller in the far…off foreign land called Home!



The morsel of burnt child; lying in another room; so patiently; in

bed; wrapped in lint; and looking steadfastly at us with his bright

quiet eyes when we spoke to him kindly; looked as if the knowledge

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