It is impossible for human beings to be or keep clean under such circumstances, and clean they were not. Yet I think most of them were as clean as they could be under these conditions, and, as will be seen later, there were degrees of uncleanliness to which they were very sensitive.
There were several working men who got into conversation about the doings of the Manchester corporation:
"Taking on two or three hundred at stone-breaking out of thousands!"
"Breaking granite! It's not much as them as aren't accustomed to it will make of that!"
"A man can't claim the Union unless he's resided two years."
"But I will say this, there's nowhere worse than Manchester for men knocking about as doesn't belong to it."
Two of the men settled down into earnest conversation about the state of employment, but, owing to the incessant knocking of the cobbler, I could not catch what they said, even when I moved nearer. A pleasing interlude from serious talk was afforded by the following humorous conversation (I omit the various unsavory adjectives with which it was interlarded, as I cannot do justice to them, and they were probably meaningless):
"Bill Bailey? eh! There was a man as had a bicycle accident, fell off and lay in the road. A chap came along. 'What's the matter?' 'Broken a rib,' says he; 'can't move.' 'What's your name?' says the man. 'Bill Bailey,' says he. 'Bill Bailey!' says the man, and goes off and leaves him. He lies there half an hour, then another chap comes along. 'What's up?' says he. 'Run and get me a doctor, for God's sake,' says the man. 'My name is Bill Bailey,' says he. So the chap runs off and tells the nearest doctor that there's a man down the road wants him. 'What's his name?' says the doctor. 'He says he's called Bill Bailey.' 'Bill Bailey!' says the doctor. 'Get along with you!' says he. So he wouldn't go. At last the man got a doctor to go who didn't ask the chap's name; but the poor fellow lay there two hours with a broken rib, all because his name was Bill Bailey."
"There were a chap that went into a beer-house," struck in another man; "there was some glasses of beer called for, and a chap ordered one and went in the yard; when he came back his glass were drunk. 'Who's done this?' he says. 'Bill Bailey,' says someone. 'Where is he?' says he. 'Just gone out,' says the man. 'I'll be even with him,' says he; with that he goes back in the yard, and, as luck would have it, there were a chap there called Bill Bailey. 'Where's Bill Bailey?' he sings out, ''cause he's wanted.' 'What for?' says Bill Bailey. 'I'll give you what for,' says the man; and with that he pitches into him, and gives him a right-down good thrashing. And all the while the chap doesn't know what it's all about!"