It was a wet morning; there had been a heavy rain since dawn, which impelled by a gusty south-wester came driving on a crowd of women and girls who were assembled before the door of a still unclosed shop. Some protected themselves with umbrellas; some sought shelter beneath a row of old elms that grew alongside the canal that fronted the house. Notwithstanding the weather, the clack of tongues was incessant.
"I thought I saw the wicket of the yard gates open," said a
woman.
"So did I," said her neighbour; "but it was shut again
immediately."
"It was only Master Joseph," said a third. "He likes to see
us getting wet through."
"If they would only let us into the yard and get under one of
the workshop sheds, as they do at Simmon's," said another.
"You may well say Simmon's, Mrs Page; I only wish my master
served in his field."
"I have been here since half-past four, Mrs Grigsby, with this
chilt at my breast all the time. It's three miles for me
here, and the same back, and unless I get the first turn, how
are my poor boys to find their dinner ready when they come out
of the pit?"
"A very true word, Mrs Page; and by this token, that last
Thursday I was here by half-past eleven, certainly afore noon, having only called at my mother-in-law's in the way, and it was eight o'clock before I got home. Ah! it's cruel work, is the tommy shop."
"How d'ye do neighbour Prance?" said a comely dame with a
large white basket, "And how's your good man? They was saying
at Belfy's he had changed his service. I hear there's a new
butty in Mr Parker's field; but the old doggy kept on; so I
always thought, he was always a favourite, and they do say
measured the stints very fair. And what do you hear bacon is
in town? They do tell me only sixpence and real home-cured. I wonder Diggs has the face to be selling still at nine-pence, and so very green! I think I see Dame Toddles; how wonderful she do wear! What are you doing here, little dear; very young to fetch tommy; keeping place for mother, eh! that's a good girl; she'd do well to be here soon, for I think the strike's on eight. Diggs is sticking it on yellow soap very terrible. What do you think—Ah! the doors are going to open. No—a false alarm."
"How fare you neighbour?" said a pale young woman carrying an
infant to the comely dame. "Here's an awful crowd, surely. The women will be fighting and tearing to get in, I guess. I be much afeard."
"Well, 'first come, first served,' all the world over," said
the comely dame. "And you must put a good heart on the
business and tie your bonnet. I dare guess there are not much
less than two hundred here. It's grand tommy day you know. And for my part I don't care so much for a good squeedge; one sees so many faces one knows."
"The cheese here at sixpence is pretty tidy," said a crone to
her companion; "but you may get as good in town for
fourpence."
"What I complain is the weights," replied her companion. "I
weighed my pound of butter bought last tommy day, and it was
two penny pieces too light. Indeed! I have been, in my time, to all the shops about here, for the lads or their father, but never knew tommy so bad as this. I have two children at home ill from their flour; I have been very poorly myself; one is used to a little white clay, but when they lay it on thick, it's very grave."
"Are your girls in the pit?"
"No; we strive to keep them out, and my man has gone scores of
days on bread and water for that purpose; and if we were not
forced to take so much tommy, one might manage—but tommy will
beat anything; Health first, and honesty afterwards, that's my
say."
"Well, for my part," said the crone, "meat's my grievance: all
the best bits go to the butties, and the pieces with bone in
are chopped off for the colliers' wives."
"Dame, when will the door open?" asked a very little palefaced
boy. I have been here all this morn, and never broke my
fast."
"And what do you want, chilt?"
I want a loaf for mother; but I don't feel I shall ever get
home again, I'm all in a way so dizzy."
"Liza Gray," said a woman with black beady eyes and a red
nose, speaking in a sharp voice and rushing up to a pretty
slatternly woman in a straw bonnet with a dirty fine ribbon, and a babe at her breast; "you know the person I'm looking for."
"Well, Mrs Mullins, and how do you do?" she replied, in a
sweet sawney tone."