Mrs. Halliburton's Troubles. Ellen Wood

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      CHAPTER XX.

      THE GLOVE OPERATIVES.

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      At the hours of going to and leaving work, the Helstonleigh streets were alive with glove operatives, some being in one branch of the trade, some in another. There were parers, grounders, leather-sorters, dyers, cutters, makers-up, and so on: all being necessary, besides the sewing, to turn out one pair of gloves; though, I dare say, you did not think it. The wages varied according to the particular work, or the men's ability and industry, from fifteen shillings a week to twenty-five: but all could earn a good living. If a man gained more than twenty-five, he had a stated salary; as was the case with the foremen. These wages, joined to what was earned by the women, were sufficient to maintain a comfortable home, and to bring up children decently. Unfortunately the same drawbacks prevailed in Helstonleigh that are but too common elsewhere; and they may be classed under one general head—improvidence. The men were given to idling away at the public-houses more time than was good for them: the women to scold and to quarrel. Some were slatterns; and a great many gave their husbands the welcome of a home of discomfort, ill-management, and dirt: which, of course, had the effect of sending them out all the more surely.

      Just about this period, the men had their especial grievance—or thought they had: and that was, a low rate of wages and not full employment. Had they paid a visit to other places and compared their wages with some earned by operatives of a different class, they had found less cause to complain. The men were rather given to comparing present wages with those they had earned before the dark crisis (dark as far as Helstonleigh's trade was concerned) when the British ports were opened to foreign gloves. But few, comparatively speaking, of the manufacturers had weathered that storm. Years have elapsed since then: but the employment remained scarce, and the wages (I have quoted them to you) low. Altogether, the men were, many of them, dissatisfied. They even went so far as to talk of a "strike"; strikes being less common in those days than they are in these.

      It was Saturday night, and the streets were crowded. The hands were pouring out of the different manufactories; clean-looking, respectable workmen, as a whole: for the branches of glove-making are for the most part of a cleanly nature. Some wore their white aprons; some had rolled them up round their waists. A few—very few, it must be owned—were going to their homes, but the greater portion were bound for the public-house.

      One of the most extensively patronised of the public-houses was The Cutters' Arms. On a Saturday night, when the men's pockets were lined, this would be crowded. The men flocked into it now and filled it, although its room for entertainment was very large. The order from most of them was a pint of mild ale and some tobacco.

      "Any news, Joe Fisher?" asked a man, when the pipes were set going.

      Joe Fisher tossed his head and growled. He was a tall, dark man; clothes and condition both dilapidated. The questioner took a few whiffs, and repeated his question. Joe growled again, but did not speak.

      "Well, you might give a chap a civil answer, Fisher."

      "What's the matter, you two?" cried a third.

      "Ben Wilks asks me is there any news!" called out Fisher, indignantly. "I thought he might ha' heered on't without asking. Our pay was docked again to-night; that's the news."

      "No!" uttered Wilks.

      "It were," said Fisher savagely. "A shilling a week less, good. Who's a-going to stand it?"

      "There ain't no help for standing it," interposed a quiet-looking man named Wheeler. "I suppose the masters is forced to lower. They say so."

      "Have СКАЧАТЬ