e. My friend called here to inquire why the two girls had
not been to school during the previous few days; and whilst their
mother was explaining the reason, a neighbour woman who had seen us
enter, looked in at the door, and said, "Hey! aw say, Mr Lea!"
"Well, what's the matter?" " Whaw, there's a woman i'th next street
at's gettin' four tickets fro th' relief folk, reggilar, an' her
husban's addlin' thirty shillin' a week o' t' time, as a sinker--he
is for sure. Aw 'm noan tellin' yo a wort ov a lie. Aw consider sick
wark as that's noan reet--an' so mony folk clemmin' as there is i'
Wigan." He made a note of the matter; but he told me afterwards that
such reports were often found to be untrue, having their origin
sometimes in private spite or personal contention of some kind.

In the next house we called at, a widow woman lived, with her
married daughter, who had a child at the breast. The old woman told
her story herself; the daughter never spoke a word, so far as I
remember, but sat there, nursing, silent and sad, with half-averted
face, and stealing a shy glance at us now and then, when she thought
we were not looking at her. It was a clean cottage, though it was
scantily furnished with poor things; and they were both neat and
clean in person, though their clothing was meagre and far worn. I
thought, also, that the old woman's language, and the countenances
of both of them, indicated more natural delicacy of feeling, and
more cultivation, than is common amongst people of their condition.
The old woman said, "My daughter has been eawt o' work a long time.
I can make about two shillings and sixpence a-week, an' we've a
lodger that pays us two shillings a week; but we've three shillings
a-week to pay for rent, an' we must pay it, too, or else turn out.
But I'm lookin' for a less heawse; for we cannot afford to stop here
any longer, wi' what we have comin' in, --that is, if we're to live
at o'." I thought the house they were in was small enough and mean
enough for the poorest creature, and, though it was kept clean, the
neighbourhood was very unwholesome. But this was another instance of
how the unemployed operatives of Lancashire are being driven down
from day to day deeper into the pestilent sinks of life in these
hard times. "This child of my daughter's," continued the old woman,
in a low tone, "this child was born just as they were puttin' my
husband into his coffin, an' wi' one thing an' another, we've had a
deal