The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1888-06-30
THE STORY OF AN ENGLISH
NEEDLEW0MAN.

She was the youngest child of wild
owed mother, who had gone out to SER
vice, and she was brought up by an aunt
and uncle at little farm in the midst of
a wood in one of the Southern counties. 1t
was solitary place, and the child grew
up accustomed to be alone in the wood
at all hours Of the day or evening. The
bread and butter were made at home;
milk and eggs and vegetables were all
from the farm; and there was as much
fruit as any one cared for to be had for
the gathering. 1t seems one of the
strongest things to me-" she said, shat I
had to buy fruit when I came to London,
if wanted it. 1 never saw anybody or
had any companions. My aunt taught
me plain needlework. She used to set
me down to do certain length, and put
in a pin to mark it; and often and often
I have taken out the pin and set it far
Their back, never thinking she could Zee
the pin-holes. And many a time she has
said to me: 'Ah my lady, you'll live to
thank me some day for this And her
words came true; for it was what helped
me when nothing else did,"
This life she led until she was fifteen.
and brought away from it two possess
sions-her perfect health and her knowl-
edge OF plain sewing, neither OF which
she would have been likely to acquire in
London. Her aunt died when she was
between fifteen and sixteen, and she came
to London to go to service, arriving alone
at Charing Cross. "I shall never forget
how 1 felt when saw all the people and
the borses and carriages. 1 thought !:
Oh dear ! I shall never get on here
went to lodge with my brother and his
wife, and one of the first things saw was
lots and lots of soldiers going along the
New Kent Road. And when asked what
it was,people told me they were going to
bury the Duke of Wellington. Then I
WIS in service for awhile, but did not
like it at all. I had always been free,
and I was wilful and independent, and
had nowhere to 60 to when was out
of place. l could not go to my mother,
because she was in service out of Lon
don; so il left had to get something
else directly. I could not stay to pick
and choose, and I was proud; never
would ask my mother, and often I wrote
and said I was getting on quite we'll,
when really 1 was very unhappy. And
at last I would not stay in service any
longer. Then my mother put me appren-
tice to the dressmaking, to two old ladies,
| sisters, little way out of London.
81 was apprenticed for year, and it
was the happiest year of my life. The
| old ladies were very kind to us, and let
us do what we liked When I was out
of my time my mother wanted me to stay
in the country and set up, but / would
60 to London. was always wilful, and
would have my own way, and SO came.
did not know anything about the big
West-end shops 1 just walked up and
down, and where saw card with Dress
making on it, there went in and asked
| for work. And at two or three places
they offered me six shillings week and
my tea. That was all they would give,
and said, No; it wasn's enough.
and as I walked to and fro, l looked
| down the areas and saw the bright fires
in the kitchens, and the servants getting
the meals; and did not know where my
next meal was coming from. but all the
same, thought to myself, I'm glad
I am up here, and not down there.
And at one place saw card: Plain
Needleaoorkers Wanted; and I stood
and thought to myself: I don't like
plain needlework; but I don't like ser
vice. have got to make myself like
something; can't make myself like this?
And went in, and they offered me just
the ssme-six shillings and my tea. And
thought must take something, and 1
took it. 1t wasn't shirt work; it was la
dies work; white petticosts and such
things, all done by hand. It was second
hand place, where they made things for
a larger shop. We worked from eight in
the morning till nine at night" For
six shillings week and one meal a day y
81 took parlor in the same house that
they had to let, and paid three shillings
a week for it. I won't be sure that it
wasn't three and sixpence- any
way, it was three shillings. That left me
three shillings to live on. 1t was the
Crimea winter, and Goals were three shil-
lings hundred, and bread two shillings
a quartern. I lived on bread and trescle
(molasses) all that winter. I stayed in
that place twelvemonth; but l heard
the women talk in the workroom about
the shirt-making, and I thought could
get more at that; so made up my mind
to 60. And the mistress was quite angry
when was going; she seemed to think
could work forever at six shillings.
$50 went to Brides, in Grange Road,
Bermondsey; and that was a second
hand place, too. There were two work
rooms-one upstairs and one down-and
you went up to the top Que by straight
ladder. 1t wasn't good pay, but it was
better than the other; think I made
seven shillings the first week. And there
they had sewing mschine-one of the
first that were used-and the women
atrrak hAcauaa M IL Thav would not