Beyond this, the sights I first noticed upon the
streets, as peculiar to the place, were, here, two "Sisters of
Mercy," wending along, in their black cloaks and hoods, with their
foreheads and cheeks swathed in ghastly white bands, and with strong
rough shoes upon their feet; and, there, passed by a knot of the
women employed in the coal mines. The singular appearance of these
women has puzzled many a southern stranger. All grimed with
coaldust, they swing along the street with their dinner baskets and
cans in their hands, chattering merrily. To the waist they are
dressed like men, in strong trousers and wooden clogs. Their gowns,
tucked clean up, before, to the middle, hang down behind them in a
peaked tail. A limp bonnet, tied under the chin, makes up the head-
dress. Their curious garb, though soiled, is almost always sound;
and one can see that the wash-tub will reveal many a comely face
amongst them. The dusky damsels are "to the manner born," and as
they walk about the streets, thoughtless of singularity, the Wigan
people let them go unheeded by. Before I had been two hours in the
town, I was put into communication with one of the active members of
the Relief Committee, who offered to devote a few hours of the
following day to visitation with me, amongst the poor of a district
called "Scholes," on the eastern edge of the town.
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