KIDD'S OWN JOURNAL. 



115 



sphere. The student of human character 

 could not have desired a finer field for the 

 prosecution of his studies, than such a one as 

 this ; and the more so, as character was here 

 so forcibly developed for good or evil, un- 

 weakened by any of the influences which 

 affect civilised life. Mrs. Mowbray as she 

 joined her husband in kind conversation 

 with the various families they visited, soon 

 began to feel a deep interest in them, sooth- 

 ingly advised with them, and relieved some 

 of their more pressing wants. 



They had completed their intended round 

 of visits, and were just leaving the court to 

 return homeward, when a young woman, 

 carrying in her hand a milliner's basket, 

 crossed before them. She was very meanly 

 clad, and her appearance bespoke deep 

 poverty ; yet there was an aspect of respect- 

 ability about her that could not be mistaken. 

 She evidently shrunk from observation : but 

 as she looked up with a surprised air at the 

 unusual sight of two respectably-dressed 

 persons in such a place, her sad countenance, 

 beaming with intelligence, so forcibly im- 

 pressed Mr. Mowbray, that he stopped her ; 

 and asking her where she lived, expressed a 

 wish to pay her a visit. 



The young woman curtseyed, and led the 

 way to a house superior to most of those 

 they had just left, but scarcely less wretched 

 and ruinous. It was a large building, and 

 had perhaps once been tenanted by the 

 wealthy ; but it had long since fallen into 

 decay, and its lofty capacious rooms had 

 been divided into a number of small ones, 

 each of which now contained a family, large 

 or small as the case might be. Mr. and Mrs. 

 Mowbray followed the young woman up the 

 wide staircase to the top of the house ; and 

 then turning into a long gallery, their guide 

 stopped at length at a door, and lifting the 

 latch, with a curtsey and an apology for the 

 untidiness of the humble room, ushered them 

 into her apartment ; and dusting the chair 

 (there was but one), invited Mrs. Mowbray 

 to take a seat. 



The room was spacious, and appeared the 

 larger in consequence of being so scantily 

 furnished. Some half-dozen old books lay 

 in the window ; a few articles of crockery- 

 ware were arranged on a box in the corner 

 of the room ; and these, with a little table, 

 a chair, and a box, which seemed to serve 

 occasionally as a seat, comprised nearly all 

 the articles visible in the room. Every- 

 thing, however, was clean and tidy, and 

 there was an air of decency and respect- 

 ability about the room which pleasingly 

 contrasted with those they had just left. 



' Do you live here alone, pray ? ' inquired 

 Mr. Mowbray. 



'No, Sir,' replied the young woman 

 feebly, ' my aged mother lives with me ; 



but (pointing to a bed at the further end 

 of the room, and which the gathering sha- 

 dows of evening had prevented them from 

 before observing) she is ill, and has been 

 confined to her bed for the last month.' 



' Have you no father ?' inquired Mr. Mow- 

 bray. 



The young woman was silent for a moment, 

 as her tongue struggled to articulate an an- 

 swer, while a tear trickled down her cheek. 



' My father is dead, sir,' she replied : ' he 

 died about six months ago after a short ill- 

 ness, and we were in consequence compelled 

 to leave our former nice home, and take this 

 room.' 



1 And pray how do you support yourself 

 and your mother ?' asked Mr. Mowbray, 

 glancing at the table, which was strewed with 

 pieces of lace, ribbon, &c. 



'I make caps and collars, sir,' said the 

 young female, ' when I can get work to do ; 

 but it is very precarious, and so badly paid 

 for, that I have been obliged to pawn nearly 

 all our furniture to keep out of debt. I am 

 unwilling that my poor mother should be 

 chargeable to the parish; but my hardest 

 exertions are insufficient to supply us even 

 with bread.' 



' Pray, whom do you work for ?' inquired 

 Mrs. Mowbray, looking curiously at an un- 

 finished cap which lay on the table. 



' I work principally, madam,' replied the 

 young woman, ' for the large lace shop in the 

 street close by. That cap, madam, will only 

 bring me 5s. when it is finished ; and I have 

 already spent nearly a day in making it, and 

 the materials cost me 4s. 6d. Even this poor 

 profit is to be reduced, for my employer told 

 me last night he could not afford to give me 

 so much for them, as ladies refuse to give him 

 his price.'' 



' Ladies, indeed !' exclaimed Mr. Mowbray 

 indignantly ; " wretches, I should call them. 

 What else can they be ?' 



Mrs. Mowbray turned her head aside and 

 blushed deeply; for she recognised in the 

 cap before her the counterpart of the one 

 she had bought the preceding day ; and in the 

 employer of this poor young woman, the lace- 

 man of ivhom she had bought it. 



Mr. Mowbray made some further inquiries, 

 and leaving the poor cap-maker a trifle, pro- 

 mised to send a doctor to visit her mother, 

 and to call on her again ; and Mrs. Mowbray, 

 before leaving, gave her a liberal " order," 

 together with a comforting assurance that 

 she would endeavor to interest her friends 

 on her behalf. 



We hope all the fair readers of Kidd's 

 Journal will assist in carrying out the same 

 noble, honest, delightful principle. Trades- 

 people now-a-days, are " existing," — not liv- 

 ing. They are from home all day, and worn 

 out by fatigue long before they reach their 



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