Year: 1875

A Christmas Story.

 On Christmas eve, 1871, two poor girls, averaging between twenty and twenty two years of age, quilted 8 large biscuit manufactory in Rotherhithe, in which they were employed, and continued their way westward towards the Borough, conversing as they went in what manner they should spend the next day. One of them, who lived in Lambeth, said to the other:

 "At our house we intend to have a regular jolification, and mean to spend eighteen pence of the money I've earned during the week in buying bottle of good rum, to give my father and mother treat of punch. And very happy we shall be together, for my brother Tom has just come home from sea, and Martha has got 8 holiday for three days from the shop she works at in Piccadilly. What do you intend doing, Trottie 2- aint you going to give your people a treat2"

 Trottie, pretty brunette, replied that she was rather puzzled what to do. "The fact is" she said, "we're in a great deal of trouble at home. Father, who works in the docks, has been thrown out of employment through the continu- ance of the east wind, which keeps the shipping from coming up the channel, and poor John, my brother, who worked ill the silk factory, has so sprained his leg that it is probable he will not be able to go to work again for some weeks to come. If it had not been for what I have earned, and mother picking up something at umbrella making, we should be pretty well starved. As it is, the two little ones, Kate and Johnny, are getting so pale and thin for want of nourishment, it quite goes to my heart to see them. Still, should like to give poor father treat if I could, for he's very low-spirited, and it would cheer him up little, and do him good.

 "You'd better do so, said her com panion; "and depend upon it, it won't be money thrown away. It's only fair 8 daughter should think of her father and mothers comforts"

 By this time the two girls had arrived at the corner of Tooley street, ill the Borough, and after @ very affectionate parting, each wishing the other the com pliments of the season, the one hurried southward to her home in Lambeth, and Trottie continued her way onwards over London bridge towards the Commercial road, where, in by street, her parents resided, thinking as she went over the conversation she had with her friend. The poor girl was in state of great indecision. She much wished to pur- chase the rum, but she had heard her father say it was his intention to take the pledge. He knew, he said, several men who worked in the docks who had done so, and their report was that not only could they perform their work fully as we'll and with as little inconvenience to themselves as when taking three or four pints of beer during the day, but, in point of fact, found them in better health than before; they rose fresher in the morning, and went to bed feeling less fatigued in the evening also that their wives and families were made the more comfortable, on account of the money economized from the public house. Still, Trottie argued, her father and mother had not yet taken the pledge, and therefore she would not be tempting them to break it. They could have 8 happy evening tomorrow, and then be- come teetotallers, if they pleased, the next morning. And then it occurred to her that, suppose they did not, would she, in any manner, have made herself answerable in keeping them from their good resolution2 Other thoughts then came into her head. The family larder was at 8 very low ebb, and would it not be better to give her mother the money she had earned, to expend in good nourishing food for the family in stead of drink9

 Poor Trottie continued onwards in state of lamentable incertituie. At last she came to conclusion. On passing faring gin palace in Whitechapel, which, from the splendor of it's decorations, probably surpassed Aladdin's palace (with the exception that the quaint Ori- ental magnifcence of the latter might be worthy of some admiration, while the execrable taste displayed in the former was worthy of all reprobation), her eye was attracted by the glare of gas, plate glass, and gliding. She looked at the building for 8 moment, and found, among other labels, embossed in golden letters, in the window: '' Fine old Jamaica Rum, eighteen pence a bottle." The words seemed to cast singular spell over Trottie, and she could not keep her eyes from them.

 At last the truth of the proverb, What is done cannot be undone," came across her mind, and she resolved to enter the gin shop aud purchase bottle of rum. But attractive as the show and inery of the place might have appeared from the outside, and although the gliding and appointments on the in side were even more lavish than on the exterior, she soon found that she was in a most uncongenial atmosphere. There was crowd composed of women of the lowest character, workingmen (and, alas some also had their wives with them), soldiers from the Tower, sailors, and others, few being quite sober, the majority slightly intoxicated, and some positively drunk. There was a considerable uproar going forward at the time, caused by the attempt of the barman to push out of the shop 8 wretched, ragged, drunken middle-aged woman, who screamed and fought with great energy. Of those present. some took her part; others were for her ex- pulsion. Possibly neither party were much interested in her cause, but sim ply interfered from love of the fun it created.

 Disguised with the scene, Trottie left the shop, and went into the street, de- termining to continue her road home | L