Ragged homes and how to mend themBayly, Mrs. (Mary)
History
Ragged homes and how to mend them
Bayly, Mrs. (Mary)
Charities -- Great Britain; Poor -- England -- London
When we contemplate how great a change would be wrought in a nation, were
its rulers men fearing God, and hating covetousness, and, like Daniel,
going many times a-day to ask counsel of the Lord, we seem to see the pen
moving in the hand of the recording angel, as he writes, “No weapon
formed against it shall prosper.”
We must return for a moment to our own more immediate work. In
consequence of the disadvantage to which we have alluded, we have not
been able to effect all the improvement we could wish in the dwellings of
our poor mothers; but, by the introduction of cleanliness, order, and
ventilation, the aspect of many homes has been much changed. Soon after
we commenced these meetings, we spent the greater part of one evening in
explaining the nature and effects of pure air and ventilation, and
illustrating the subject in various ways. The listeners were startled at
the facts brought before them: and by their unfeigned expressions of
astonishment, it was evident that their ideas on the subject, and
nature’s intentions, were quite at variance. Several months afterwards,
on entering a house where two of our poor mothers lived, I was pleased to
observe how clean and well-ventilated it was. On remarking this, one of
the women said—“Ah! that was a wonderful evening when you told us all
about what air we could live upon, and what we couldn’t. I says to Mrs
L—, as we were going home, ‘There now, we have been a-shutting up our
windows, and thinking we were shutting the _pizen_ out, instead of which
we were shutting of it in.’ I soon got my window made to open at the
top, and it has never been quite shut since; for we always sleeps six in
this room. The neighbours did say, at first, that we should catch our
deaths; but they soon saw that we were so much better, that half the
people in the street open their windows at the top now.”
This same woman came to me a few weeks ago, and told me that she had
lately removed into another street, where the houses were apparently of a
better order than those she had left; but after the first week or two,
she found that, in consequence of a drain-pipe being out of order, they
were constantly subjected to an unpleasant smell. “I tell my landlord of
it,” she said, “every Monday morning when I pay my rent; and he always
says to me, ‘I’ll send a man here in a day or two, and have it put to
rights;’ and that have been going on now for six weeks, and nobody has
been a-near the place to do anything yet. I have two children ill with
fever; and we all wake of a morning now with that old miserable, sick,
tired feeling we used to have before you told us how to manage better.
My boys said this morning, ‘Mother, the work do seem so hard now, to what
it used to.’ You know, ma’am, the work isn’t no difference; but we are
all getting pizen’d with that nasty smell; and it do seem so hard to me,
for I have never had no illness to speak of among ’em all, for the last
four years.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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