"
It was now close upon half-past seven in the evening, at which time
I had promised to call upon the Secretary of the Trinity Ward Relief
Committee, whose admirable letter in the London Times, attracted so
much attention about a month ago. I met several members of the
committee at his lodgings, and we had an hour's interesting
conversation. I learnt that, in cases of sickness arising from mere
weakness, from poorness of diet, or from unsuitableness of the food
commonly provided by the committee, orders were now issued for such
kind of "kitchen physic" as was recommended by the doctors. The
committee had many cases of this kind. One instance was mentioned,
in which, by the doctor's advice, four ounces of mutton chop daily
had been ordered to be given to a certain sick man, until further
notice. The thing went on and was forgotten, until one day, when the
distributor of food said to the committeeman who had issued the
order, "I suppose I must continue that daily mutton chop to so-and-
so?" "Eh, no; he's been quite well two months?" The chop had been
going on for ninety-five days. We had some talk with that class of
operatives who are both clean, provident, and "heawse-preawd," as
Lancashire folk call it.
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