Mrs. Halliburton's Troubles

CHAPTER XVIII.

HONEY FAIR

Helstonleigh abounded with glove manufactories. It was a trade that might be said to be a blessing to the localities where it was carried on, since it was one of the very few employments that furnished to the poor female population easy, clean, and profitable work at their own homes. The evils arising to women who go out to work in factories have been rehearsed over and over again; and the chief evil—we will put others out of sight—is, that it takes the married woman from her home and her family. Her young children drag themselves up in her absence, for worse or for better; alone they must do it, for she has to be away, toiling for daily bread. There is no home privacy, no home comfort, no home happiness; the factory is their life, and other interests give way to it. But with glove-making the case was different. Whilst the husbands were at the manufactories pursuing their day's work, the wives and elder daughters were earning money easily and pleasantly at home. The work was clean and profitable; all that was necessary for its accomplishment being common skill as a seamstress.

Not five minutes' walk from Mrs. Halliburton's house, and nearer to Helstonleigh, a turning out of the main road led you to quite a colony of workwomen—gloveresses, as they were termed in the local phraseology. It was a long, wide lane; the houses, some larger, some smaller, built on either side of it. A road quite wide enough for health if the inhabitants had only kept it as it ought to have been kept: but they did not do so. The highway was made a common receptacle for refuse. It was so much easier to open the kitchen door (most of the houses were entered at once by the kitchen), and to "chuck" things out, pêle-mêle, rather than be at the trouble of conveying them to the proper receptacle, the dust-bin at the back. Occasionally a solitary policeman would come, picking his way through the dirt and dust, and order it to be removed; upon which some slight improvement would be visible for a day or two. The name of this charming place was Honey Fair; though, in truth, it was redolent of nothing so pleasant as honey.

Of the occupants of these houses, the husbands and elder sons were all glove operatives; several of them in the manufactory of Mr. Ashley. The wives sewed the gloves at home. Many a similar colony to Honey Fair was there in Helstonleigh, but in hearing of one you hear of all. The trade was extensively pursued. A very few of the manufactories were of the extent that was Mr. Ashley's; and they gradually descended in size, until some comprised not half a score workmen, all told; but whose masters alike dignified themselves by the title of "manufacturer."

There flourished a shop in the general line in Honey Fair kept by a Mrs. Buffle, a great gossip. Her husband, a well-meaning, steady little man, mincing in his speech and gait, scrupulously neat and clean in his attire, and thence called "the dandy," was chief workman at one of the smallest of the establishments. He had three men and two boys under him; and so he styled himself the "foreman." No one knew half so much of the affairs of their neighbours as did Mrs. Buffle; no one could tell of the ill-doings and shortcomings of Honey Fair as she could. Many a gloveress girl, running in at dusk for a halfpenny candle, did not receive it until she had first submitted to a lecture from Mrs. Buffle. Not that her custom was all of this ignoble description: some of the gentlemen's houses in the neighbourhood would deal with her in a chance way, when out of articles at home. Her wares were good; her home-cured bacon was particularly good. Amidst other olfactory treats indigenous to Honey Fair was that of pigs and pig-sties, kept by Mrs. Buffle.

Occasionally Mrs. Halliburton would go to this shop; it was nearer to her house than any other; and, in her small way, had been extensively patronised by her. Of all her customers, Mrs. Halliburton was the one who most puzzled Mrs. Buffle. In the first place, she never gossiped; in the second, though evidently a lady, she would carry her purchases home herself. The very servants from the very large houses, coming flaunting in their smart caps, would loftily order their pound of bacon or shillingsworth of eggs sent home for them. Mrs. Halliburton took hers away in her own hand; and this puzzled Mrs. Buffle. "But her pays ready money," observed that lady, when relating this to another customer, "so 'tain't my place to grumble."

During the summer weather, whenever Jane had occasion to walk through Honey Fair, on her way to this shop, she would linger to admire the women at their open doors and windows, busy over their nice clean work. Rocking the cradle with one foot, or jogging the baby on their knees, to a tune of their own composing, their hands would be ever active at their employment. Some made the gloves; that is, seamed the fingers together and put in the thumbs, and these were called "makers." Some welted, or hemmed the gloves round at the edge of the wrist; these were called "welters." Some worked the three ornamental lines on the back; and these were called "pointers." Some of the work was done in what was called a patent machine, whereby the stitches were rendered perfectly equal. And some of the stouter gloves were stitched together, instead of being sewn: stitching so beautifully regular and neat, that a stranger would look at it in admiration. In short, there were different branches in the making and sewing of gloves, as there are in most trades.

It now struck Jane that she might find employment at this work until better times should come round. True, she had never worked at it; but she was expert with her needle, and it was easily acquired. She possessed a dry, cool hand, too; a great thing where sewing-silk, sometimes floss silk, has to be used. What cared she for lowering herself to the employment only dealt out to the poor? Was she not poor herself? And who knew her in Helstonleigh?

The day that Mr. Ashley removed the dreaded visitor from her house, Jane had occasion to speak to Elizabeth Carter, her young servant's mother. At dusk, putting aside the frock she was making for Anna, Jane proceeded to Honey Fair, in which perfumed locality Mrs. Carter lived. An agreement had been entered into that Betsy should still go to Mrs. Halliburton's to do the washing (after her own fashion, but Jane could not afford to be fastidious now), and also what was wanted in the way of scouring—Betsy being paid a trifle in return, and instructed in the mysteries of reading and writing.

"'Taint no profit," observed Mrs. Carter to a crony, "but 'taint no loss. Her won't do nothing at home, let me cry after her as I will. Out her goes, gampusing to this house, gampusing to that; but not a bit of work'll her stick to at home. If these new folks can keep her to work a bit, so much the better; it'll be getting her hand in; and better still, if they teaches her to read and write. Her wouldn't learn nothing from the school-missis."

Not a very favourable description of Miss Betsy. But, what the girl chiefly wanted was a firm hand over her. Her temper and disposition were good; but she was an only child, and her mother, though possessing a firm hand, and a firm tongue, too, in general—none more so in Honey Fair—had spoilt and indulged Miss Betsy until her authority was gone.

After her business was over this evening with Mrs. Carter, Jane, who wanted some darning cotton, turned into Mrs. Buffle's shop. That priestess was in her accustomed place behind the counter. She curtseyed twice, and spoke in a low, subdued tone, in deference to the widow's cap and bonnet—to the deep mourning altogether, which Mrs. Buffle's curiosity had not had the gratification of beholding before.

"Would you like it fine or coarse, mum? Here's both. 'Taint a great assortment, but it's the best quality. I don't have much call for darning cotton, mum; the folks round about is always at their gloving work."

"But they must mend their stockings," observed Jane.

"Not they," returned Mrs. Buffle. "They'd go in naked heels, mum, afore they'd take a needle and darn 'em up. They have took to wear them untidy boots to cover the holes, and away they go with 'em unlaced; tongue hanging, and tag trailing half a mile behind 'em. Great big slatterns, they be!"

"They seem always at work," remarked Jane.

"Always at work!" repeated Mrs. Buffle. "You don't know much of 'em, mum, or you'd not say it. They'll play one day, and work the next; that's their work. It's only a few of the steady ones that'll work regular, all the week through."

"What could a good, steady workwoman earn a week at the glove-making?"

"That depends, mum, upon how close she stuck to it," responded Mrs. Buffle.

"I mean, sitting closely."

"Oh, well," debated Mrs. Buffle carelessly, "she might earn ten shillings a week, and do it comfortable."

Ten shillings a week! Jane's heart beat hopefully. Upon ten shillings a week she might manage to exist, to keep her children from starvation, until better days arose. She, impelled by necessity, could sit longer and closer, too, than perhaps those women did. Mrs. Buffle continued, full of inward gratulation that her silent customer had come round to gossip at last.

"They be the improvidentest things in the world, mum, these gloveress girls. Sundays they be dressed up as grand as queens, flowers inside their bonnets, and ribbuns out, a-setting the churches and chapels alight with their finery; and then off for walks with their sweethearts, all the afternoon and evening. Mondays is mostly spent in waste, gathering of themselves at each other's houses, talking and laughing, or, may be, off to the fields again—anything for idleness. Tuesdays is often the same, and then the rest of the week they has to scout over their work, to get it in on the Saturday. Ah! you don't know 'em, mum."

Jane paid for her darning cotton and came away, much to Mrs. Buffle's regret. "Ten shillings a week," kept ringing in her ears.

CHAPTER XIX.

MRS. REECE AND DOBBS

Jane was busy that evening; but the following morning she went into Samuel Lynn's. Patience was in the kitchen, washing currants for a pudding; the maid upstairs at her work. Jane held the body of Anna's frock in her hand. She wished to try it on.

"Anna is not at home," was the reply of Patience. "She is gone to spend the day with Mary Ashley."

Jane felt sorry; she had been in hopes of finishing it that day. "Patience," said she, "I want to ask your advice. I have been thinking that I might get employment at sewing gloves. It seems easy work to learn."

"Would thee like the work?" asked Patience. "Ladies have a prejudice against it, because it is the work supplied to the poor. Not but that some ladies in this town, willing to eke out their means, do work at it in private. They get the work brought out to them and taken in."

"That would be the worst for me," observed Jane: "taking in the work. I do fear I should not like it."

"Of course not. Thee could not go to the manufactory and stand amid the crowd of women for thy turn to be served as one of them. Wait thee an instant."

Patience dried her hands upon the roller-towel, and took Jane into the best parlour, the one less frequently used. Opening a closet, she reached from it a small, peculiar-looking machine, and some unmade gloves: the latter were in a basket, covered over with a white cloth.

"This is different work from what the women do," said she. "It is what is called the French point, and is confined to a few of the chief manufacturers. It is not allowed to be done publicly, lest all should get hold of the stitch. Those who employ the point have it done in private."

"Who does it here?" exclaimed Jane.

"I do," said Patience, laughing. "Did thee think I should be like the fine ladies, ashamed to put my hand to it? I and James Meeking's wife do all that is at present being done for the Ashley manufactory. But now, look thee. Samuel Lynn was saying only last night, that they must search out for some other hand who would be trustworthy, for they want more of the work done. It is easy to learn, and I know they would give it thee. It is a little better paid than the other work, too. Sit thee down and try it."

Patience fixed the back of the glove in the pretty little square machine, took the needle—a peculiar one—and showed how it was to be done. Jane, in a glow of delight, accomplished some stitches readily.

"I see thee would be handy at it," said Patience. "Thee can take the machine indoors to-day and practise. I will give thee a piece of old leather to exercise upon. In two or three days thee may be quite perfect. I do not work very much at it myself, at which Samuel Lynn grumbles. It is all my own profit, what I earn, so that he has no selfish motive in urging me to work, except that they want more of it done. But I have my household matters to attend to, and Anna takes up my time. I get enough for my clothes, and that is all I care for."

"I know I could do it! I could do it well, Patience."

"Then I am sure thee may have it to do. They will supply thee with a machine, and Samuel Lynn will bring thy work home and take it back again, as he does mine. He–"

William was bursting in upon them with a beaming face. "Mamma, make haste home. Two ladies are asking to see the rooms."

Jane hurried in. In the parlour sat a pleasant-looking old lady in a large black silk bonnet. The other, smarter, younger (but she must have been forty at least), and very cross-looking, wore a Leghorn bonnet with green and scarlet bows. She was the old lady's companion, housekeeper, servant, all combined in one, as Jane found afterwards.

"You have lodgings to let, ma'am," said the old lady. "Can we see them?"

"This is the sitting-room," Jane was beginning; but she was interrupted by the smart one in a snappish tone.

"This the sitting-room! Do you call this furnished?"

"Don't be hasty, Dobbs," rebuked her mistress. "Hear what the lady has to say."

"The furniture is homely, certainly," acknowledged Jane. "But it is new and clean. That is a most comfortable sofa. The bedrooms are above."

The old lady said she would see them, and they proceeded upstairs. Dobbs put her head into one room, and withdrew it with a shriek. "This room has no bedside carpets."

"I am sorry to say that I have no bedside carpets at present," said Jane, feeling all the discouragement of the avowal. "I will get some as soon as I possibly can, if any one taking the rooms will kindly do without them for a little while."

"Perhaps we might, Dobbs," suggested the old lady, who appeared to be of an accommodating, easy nature; readily satisfied.

"Begging your pardon, ma'am, you'll do nothing of the sort," returned Dobbs. "We should have you doubled up with cramp, if you clapped your feet on to a cold floor. I am not going to do it."

"I never do have cramp, Dobbs."

"Which is no reason, ma'am, why you never should," authoritatively returned Dobbs.

"What a lovely view from these back windows!" exclaimed the old lady. "Dobbs, do you see the Malvern Hills?"

"We don't eat and drink views," testily responded Dobbs.

"They are pleasant to look at though," said her mistress. "I like these rooms. Is there a closet, ma'am, or small apartment that we could have for our trunks, if we came?"

"We are not coming," interrupted Dobbs, before Jane could answer. "Carpetless floors won't suit us, ma'am."

"There is a closet here, over the entrance," said Jane to the old lady, as she opened the door. "Our own boxes are in it now, but I can have them moved upstairs."

"So there's a cock-loft, is there?" put in Dobbs.

"A what?" cried Jane, who had never heard the word. "There is nothing upstairs but an attic. A garret, as it is called here."

"Yes," burst forth Dobbs, "it is called a garret by them that want to be fine. Cock-loft is good enough for us decent folk: we've never called it anything else. Who sleeps up there?" she summarily demanded.

"My little boys. This was their room, but I have put them upstairs that I may let this one."

"There ma'am!" said Dobbs, triumphantly, as she turned to her mistress. "You'll believe me another time, I hope! I told you I knew there was a pack of children. One of 'em opened the door to us."

"Perhaps they are quiet children," said the old lady, who had been so long used to the grumbling and domineering of Dobbs, that she took it as a matter of course.

"They are, indeed," said Jane, "quiet, good children. I will answer for it that they will not disturb you in any way."

"I should like to see the kitchen, ma'am," said the old lady.

"We only want the use of it," snapped Dobbs. "Our kitchen fire goes out after dinner, and I boil the kettle for tea in the parlour."

"Would attendance be required?" asked Jane of the old lady.

"No, it wouldn't," answered Dobbs, in the same tart tone. "I wait upon my missis, and I wait upon myself, and we have a woman in to do the cleaning, and the washing goes out."

The answer gave Jane great relief. Attending upon lodgers had been a dubious prospect in more respects than one.

"It's a very good kitchen," said the old lady, as they went in, and she turned round in it.

"I'll be bound it smokes," said Dobbs.

"No, it does not," replied Jane.

"Where's the coalhouse?" asked Dobbs. "Is there two?"

"Only one," said Jane. "It is at the back of the kitchen."

"Then—if we did come—where could our coal be put?" fiercely demanded Dobbs. "I must have my coalhouse to myself, with a lock and key. I don't want the house's fires supplied from my missis's coal."

Jane's cheeks flushed as she turned to the old lady. "Allow me to assure you that your property—of whatever nature it may be—will be perfectly sacred in this house. Whether locked up or not, it will be left untouched by me and mine."

"To be sure, ma'am," pleasantly returned the old lady. "I'm not afraid. You must not mind what Dobbs says: she means nothing."

"And our safe for meat and butter," proceeded that undaunted functionary. "Is there a key to it?"

"And now about the rent?" said the old lady, giving Jane no time to answer that there was a key.

Jane hesitated. And then, with a flush, asked twenty shillings a week.

"My conscience!" uttered Dobbs. "Twenty shillings a week. And us finding spoons and linen!"

"Dobbs," said the old lady. "I don't see that it is so very out of the way. A parlour, two bedrooms, a closet, and the kitchen, all furnished–"

"The closet's an empty, dark hole, and the kitchen's only the use of it, and the bedrooms are carpetless," reiterated Dobbs, drowning her mistress's voice. "But, if anybody asked you for your head, ma'am, you'd just cut it off and give it, if I wasn't at hand to stop you."

"Well, Dobbs, we have seen nothing else to suit us up here. And you know I want to settle myself at this end of the town, on account of it being high and dry. Parry says I must."

"We have not half looked yet," said Dobbs.

"A pound a-week is a good price, ma'am; and we have not paid quite so much where we are: but I don't know that it's unreasonable," continued the old lady to Jane. "What shall we do, Dobbs?"

"Do, ma'am! Why, of course you'll come out, and try higher up. To take these rooms without looking out for others, would be as bad as buying a pig in a poke. Come along, ma'am. Bedrooms without carpets won't do for us at any price," she added to Jane by way of a party salutation.

They left the house, the lady with a cordial good morning, Dobbs with none at all; and went quarrelling up the road. That is, the old lady reasoning, and Dobbs disputing. The former proposed, if they saw nothing to suit them better, to purchase bedside carpeting: upon which Dobbs accused her of wanting to bring herself to the workhouse.

Patience, who had watched them away, from her parlour window, came in to learn the success. She brought in with her the machine, a plain piece of leather, the size of the back of a glove, neatly fixed in it. Jane's tears were falling.

"I think they would have taken them had there been bedside carpets," sighed she. "Oh, Patience, what a help it would been! I asked a pound a week."

"Did thee? That was a good price, considering thee would not have to give attendance."

"How do you know I should not?" asked Jane.

"Because I know Hannah Dobbs waits upon her mistress," replied Patience. "She is the widow of Joseph Reece, and he left her well off. I heard they were coming to live up this way. Did they quite decline them? Because, I can tell thee what. We have some strips of bedside carpet not being used, and I would not mind lending them till thee can buy others. It is a pity thee should lose the letting for the sake of a bit of carpet."