A member of the Trinity Ward Relief
Committee, who is master of the Catholic school in that ward, had
offered to go with me to visit some distressed people who were under
his care in that part of the town. We left Friargate at the
appointed time. As we came along there was a crowd in front of
Messrs Wards', the fishmongers. A fine sturgeon had just been
brought in. It had been caught in the Ribble that morning. We went
in to look at the royal fish. It was six feet long, and weighed
above a hundred pounds. I don't know that I ever saw a sturgeon
before. But we had other fish to fry; and so we went on. The first
place we called at was a cellar in Nile Street. "Here," said my
companion, "let us have a look at old John." A gray-headed little
man, of seventy, lived down in this one room, sunken from the
street. He had been married forty years, and if I remember aright,
he lost his wife about four years ago. Since that time, he had lived
in this cellar, all alone, washing and cooking for himself. But I
think the last would not trouble him much, for "they have no need
for fine cooks who have only one potato to their dinner.
Pages:
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83