Crime -- England -- London; Police -- England -- London; Poor -- England -- London
I cannot possibly reveal the whole contents of the room. Had a local
auctioneer been called in to make a correct inventory, he would surely
have fled in despair. Every available square inch of the room was fully
occupied with strange objects. In one corner was a pile of nails--cut
nails and wrought nails, French nails and old "tenpenny" nails, barndoor
nails and dainty wire nails--collected from the streets during
Jonathan's long life. They told the industrial history of those years,
and spoke eloquently of the improvement that had taken place even in
nail-making. They told, too, of the poor home-workers of Cradley Heath,
and of the women and children who had made them. Beside the nails was a
heap of screws--poor old blunted rusty things, made years before Mr.
Chamberlain introduced his improved pointed screws, lying mingled with
the Screws of present use, bright, slender, and genteel. Here was a heap
of shoe-tips, some of which had done duty forty years ago in protecting
the heels and toes of cumbrous boots that had stumbled and resounded on
the cobble-stone streets of those days. They, too, had a tale to tell,
for Blakey's protectors lay there mingled with old, heavy, rusty tips
that had protected "wooden shoon" in the days of long ago.
Decidedly, Jonathan was a modern Autolycus, a "snapper-up of
unconsidered trifles." He had almost established a corner in hairpins.
There they were, six hundred thousand of them, neatly arranged in starch
boxes, nicely oiled to prevent rust, box after box of them, every box
weighed and counted, the whole lot weighing, so the descriptive paper
says, two and a half hundredweight: hairpins from St. James's and
Piccadilly--for Jonathan, when work was scarce, had on special occasions
searched with magnetic eye the El Dorado of the West--hairpins from the
narrow streets of the East; hairpins from suburban thoroughfares;
hairpins from the pavements of the City; old, massive hairpins that
would almost have tethered a goat; demure, slender hairpins that would
nestle snugly in the hair, and adapt themselves comfortably to the head;
hairpins plain and hairpins corrugated--there they lay.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account