given above will permit no extravagance, no overloading
of stomachs, it will be noticed that there is no surplus. The whole
guinea is spent for food and rent. There is no pocket-money left over.
Does the man buy a glass of beer, the family must eat that much less; and
in so far as it eats less, just that far will it impair its physical
efficiency. The members of this family cannot ride in busses or trams,
cannot write letters, take outings, go to a "tu'penny gaff" for cheap
vaudeville, join social or benefit clubs, nor can they buy sweetmeats,
tobacco, books, or newspapers.

And further, should one child (and there are three) require a pair of
shoes, the family must strike meat for a week from its bill of fare. And
since there are five pairs of feet requiring shoes, and five heads
requiring hats, and five bodies requiring clothes, and since there are
laws regulating indecency, the family must constantly impair its physical
efficiency in order to keep warm and out of jail. For notice, when rent,
coals, oil, soap, and firewood are extracted from the weekly income,
there remains a daily allowance for food of 4.5d. to each person; and
that 4.5d. cannot be lessened by buying clothes without impairing the
physical efficiency.

All of which is hard enough. But the thing happens; the husband and
father breaks his leg or his neck. No 4.5d. a day per mouth for food is
coming in; no halfpennyworth of bread per meal; and, at the end of the
week, no six shillings for rent. So out they must go, to the streets or
the workhouse, or to a miserable den, somewhere, in which the mother will
desperately endeavour to hold the family together on the ten shillings
she may possibly be able to earn.

While in London there are 1,292,737 people who receive twenty-one
shillings or less a week per family, it must be remembered that we have
investigated a family of five living on a twenty-one shilling basis.
There are larger families, there are many families that live on less than
twenty-one shillings, and there is much irregular employment. The
question naturally arises, How do _they_ live? The answer is that they
do not live. They do not know what life is. They drag out a
subterbestial existence until mercifully released by death.

Before descending to the fouler depths, let the case of the telephone
girls be cited. Here are clean, fresh English maids, for whom a higher
standard of living than that of the beasts is absolutely necess