But, from the time
when Roman sentinels kept watch and ward in their old camp at
Walton, down by the Ribble side, it has never seen so much wealth
and so much bitter poverty together as now. The streets do not show
this poverty; but it is there. Looking from Avenham Walks, that
glorious landscape smiles in all the splendour of a rich spring-
tide. In those walks the nursemaids and children, and dainty folk,
are wandering as usual airing their curls in the fresh breeze; and
only now and then a workless operative trails by with chastened
look. The wail of sorrow is not heard in Preston market-place; but
destitution may be found almost anywhere there just now, cowering in
squalid corners, within a few yards of plenty--as I have seen it
many a time this week. The courts and alleys behind even some of the
main streets swarm with people who have hardly a whole nail left to
scratch themselves with.
Before attempting to tell something of what I saw whilst wandering
amongst the poor operatives of Preston, I will say at once, that I
do not intend to meddle with statistics. They have been carefully
gathered, and often given elsewhere, and there is no need for me to
repeat them.
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