I was able to cap their story by a true incident that had come under my own observation. A quiet little man, devoted to his wife and children, and decidedly henpecked and without vices, was taking a country walk one Sunday and saw a knot of men in a quarry. Interested in their proceedings he got on a hill and watched them. He and they were raided in by the police; they were gambling and he was charged with "aiding and abetting." The police swore he was signalling! As a matter of fact when suddenly arrested he lifted his arms and said, "My God!" This was interpreted as a "warning." It was only through the good character given him by his parson that he got off. The room appreciated the story. "What about relieving officers?" I said, feeling the way was open. A look of unutterable disgust crept into their faces. A woman came forward and began to relate how they treated an old man, but she was not allowed to speak, for everyone had something at the tip of his tongue. "If the public knew their carryings on and how they blackguards you," one summed up, "there'd be a stop put to it, it's shameful." Evidently if a policeman's reputation was bad, that of a poor law officer was worse. "They've no right to do it," was the general verdict. Prison again came in for preference. "You've nothing to do but walk up to an officer and hit him in the ear-hole, and you'll get sent down for free lodgings. Breaking plate-glass windows is the way they do it in London."[149]
I asked some questions about preference with regard to plank, chain, or straw beds to change the subject, but all agreed that "they weren't worth calling _beds_." "You do get a _shelter_," said one, raising his hand and arching it to imply there was something over your head, "but _beds_! You get the floor and two blankets, perhaps three in a cell if they are full.[150] I think they ought to give you that free; it's not worth 2_d_. The Salvation Army give you what they call a bunk--like a coffin, and oilcloth to put over you--for 2_d_.! That's charity for you and religion!"
I propounded the German Relief Station system as below. It was received with great attention and warm appreciation. "It would be ever so much better," they all agreed. "The Salvation Army has a metropole at Leeds," one volunteered. Another referred appreciatively to Central Hall, Manchester. "You can go in at 3.0 and work and get out in the morning early." I mentioned earning tickets for food and shelter. "That would do for us men," he said, "but not for women--they'd give anything for drink." A chorus of protest and laughter greeted him. "You're very hard on the ladies," I said. "You're wife won't thank you for a character." "But it's true," he said. It was a warm subject, so I changed it by asking about accommodation for women. I learnt in reply some startling facts. It was stated that in some towns, notably Leeds, women could not get sleeping accommodation. Lodging-houses had been pulled down where women used to be taken, and they actually could not get shelter. "It's harder on them than us; we can protect ourselves, but a woman gets run in." Evidently here is a great social lack. Women's lodging-houses--and what can be more needful for the morals of the community? I asked about accommodation in this town. "They take women everywhere," was the reply. "Not everywhere," said another; "there are not so many that take women as there used to be." All agreed that accommodation was short for women in many towns, and might be for men, but of that they were not sure, only they knew numbers were taken up for sleeping out. "Four men were taken up for sleeping in a hole near a coal-pit the other day," they said. I suggested prices of beds might go up, but this did not seem to have happened. 4_d_. a bed was the standard, but 6_d_. for a married couple was not always accepted, and children were charged for. "I have two children in an Industrial Home," said one.