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paid my toll 'ere in my cartin' days。〃
〃I've 'ad three 'a'penny rolls in two days；〃 the Carpenter announced；
after a long pause in the conversation。 〃Two of them I ate yesterday； an'
the third to…day；〃 he concluded； after another long pause。
〃I ain't 'ad anything to…day；〃 said the Carter。 〃An' I'm fagged out。
My legs is hurtin' me something fearful。〃
〃The roll you get in the 'spike' is that 'ard you can't eat it nicely with
less'n a pint of water；〃 said the Carpenter； for my benefit。 And； on asking
him what the 〃spike〃 was； he answered； 〃The casual ward。 It's a cant
word； you know。〃
But what surprised me was that he should have the word 〃cant〃 in his
vocabulary； a vocabulary that I found was no mean one before we parted。
I asked them what I might expect in the way of treatment； if we
succeeded in getting into the Poplar Workhouse； and between them I was
supplied with much information。 Having taken a cold bath on entering； I
would be given for supper six ounces of bread and 〃three parts of skilly。〃
〃Three parts〃 means three…quarters of a pint； and 〃skilly〃 is a fluid
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concoction of three quarts of oatmeal stirred into three buckets and a half
of hot water。
〃Milk and sugar； I suppose； and a silver spoon？〃 I queried。
〃No fear。 Salt's what you'll get； an' I've seen some places where
you'd not get any spoon。 'Old 'er up an' let 'er run down； that's 'ow they
do it。〃
〃You do get good skilly at 'Ackney；〃 said the Carter。
〃Oh； wonderful skilly； that；〃 praised the Carpenter； and each looked
eloquently at the other。
〃Flour an' water at St。 George's in the East；〃 said the Carter。
The Carpenter nodded。 He had tried them all。
〃Then what？〃 I demanded
And I was informed that I was sent directly to bed。 〃Call you at half
after five in the mornin'； an' you get up an' take a 'sluice' if there's any
soap。 Then breakfast； same as supper； three parts o' skilly an' a six…ounce
loaf。〃
〃'Tisn't always six ounces；〃 corrected the Carter。
〃'Tisn't； no； an' often that sour you can 'ardly eat it。 When first I
started I couldn't eat the skilly nor the bread； but now I can eat my own an'
another man's portion。〃
〃I could eat three other men's portions；〃 said the Carter。 〃I 'aven't 'ad
a bit this blessed day。〃
〃Then what？〃
〃Then you've got to do your task； pick four pounds of oakum； or clean
an' scrub； or break ten to eleven hundredweight o' stones。 I don't 'ave to
break stones； I'm past sixty； you see。 They'll make you do it； though。
You're young an' strong。〃
〃What I don't like；〃 grumbled the Carter； 〃is to be locked up in a cell to
pick oakum。 It's too much like prison。〃
〃But suppose； after you've had your night's sleep； you refuse to pick
oakum； or break stones； or do any work at all？〃 I asked。
〃No fear you'll refuse the second time； they'll run you in；〃 answered
the Carpenter。 〃Wouldn't advise you to try it on； my lad。〃
〃Then comes dinner；〃 he went on。 〃Eight ounces of bread； one and a
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arf ounces of cheese； an' cold water。 Then you finish your task an' 'ave
supper； same as before； three parts o' skilly any six ounces o' bread。 Then
to bed； six o'clock； an' next mornin' you're turned loose； provided you've
finished your task。〃
We had long since left Mile End Road； and after traversing a gloomy
maze of narrow； winding streets； we came to Poplar Workhouse。 On a
low stone wall we spread our handkerchiefs； and each in his handkerchief
put all his worldly possessions； with the exception of the 〃bit o' baccy〃
down his sock。 And then； as the last light was fading from the drab…
coloured sky； the wind blowing cheerless and cold； we stood； with our
pitiful little bundles in our hands； a forlorn group at the workhouse door。
Three working girls came along； and one looked pityingly at me； as
she passed I followed her with my eyes； and she still looked pityingly back
at me。 The old men she did not notice。 Dear Christ； she pitied me；
young and vigorous and strong； but she had no pity for the two old men
who stood by my side！ She was a young woman； and I was a young man；
and what vague sex promptings impelled her to pity me put her sentiment
on the lowest plane。 Pity for old men is an altruistic feeling； and besides；
the workhouse door is the accustomed place for old men。 So she showed
no pity for them； only for me； who deserved it least or not at all。 Not in
honour do grey hairs go down to the grave in London Town。
On one side the door was a bell handle； on the other side a press
button。
〃Ring the bell；〃 said the Carter to me。
And just as I ordinarily would at anybody's door； I pulled out the
handle and rang a peal。
〃Oh！ Oh！〃 they cried in one terrified voice。 〃Not so 'ard！〃
I let go； and they looked reproachfully at me； as though I had
imperilled their chance for a bed and three parts of skilly。 Nobody came。
Luckily it was the wrong bell； and I felt better。
〃Press the button；〃 I said to the Carpenter。
〃No； no； wait a bit；〃 the Carter hurriedly interposed。
From all of which I drew the conclusion that a poorhouse porter； who
commonly draws a yearly salary of from seven to nine pounds； is a very
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finicky and important personage； and cannot be treated too fastidiously
bypaupers。
So we waited； ten times a decent interval； when the Carter stealthily
advanced a timid forefinger to the button； and gave it the faintest； shortest
possible push。 I have looked at waiting men where life or death was in
the issue； but anxious suspense showed less plainly on their faces than it
showed on the faces of these two men as they waited on the coming of the
porter。
He came。 He barely looked at us。 〃Full up；〃 he said and shut the
door。
〃Another night