Poverty in London, 1*^7 



After a long hunt I entered a long dark alley in search 

 of the colorer's house, to which I had been directed. It 

 was ten o'clock, and after mounting two stories in search 

 of the man, I knocked, and a little door was opened. 

 The family were surprised by the appearance of a stran- 

 ger, as much as I was by what I saw. A young man was 

 sitting by a small window drawing; a woman whom I 

 took to be his mother was washing a few potatoes in hot 

 water ; a younger woman nursed a child, leaning on the 

 only bed in the room; and six little children, mostly 

 girls, shabby in appearance and sallow in complexion, 

 showed that hunger was not a stranger there. The 

 young man arose, offered me his seat, and asked me po- 

 litely what I wanted. I told him I was looking for a 

 colorer. He replied that he once worked at it, but had 

 abandoned the business, because he was unable to sup- 

 port his large family by it, even to provide them bread 

 and potatoes. He showed me the work he was doing : it 

 was a caricature of Canning, hiding himself behind some 

 Roman Catholic priests, as if listening to their talk ; each 

 one of the priests held a rope in his hand, as if ready to 

 hang their opponents, and the whole proved that the man 

 had a good knowledge of drawing. Just then the moth- 

 er told him breakfast was ready. The poor man begged 

 me to excuse him, saying that he had not tasted anything 

 the day before ; that the potatoes were a present, he 

 would eat soon, and then tell me of some colorers now 

 in the business. I sat silently and saw the food equally 

 divided j the mother, wife, children, and father soon swal- 

 lowed their share, but it was scarcely enough to appease 

 the hunger of the moment. He gave me as he ate the 

 names of three men, and, pained by the scene before me, 

 I rose to go. Just then the father said to the children 

 and wife, 'It is. high time you should go to work,' and 

 asking me at the same time to remain a few moments 



