She was dying of asthma. At her right hand
there was another rickety chair, by the help of which she raised
herself up from her hard bed. She said that she had never been up
stairs during the previous twelve months, but had lain there, at the
foot of the stairs, all that time. She had two daughters. They were
both out of the house; and they had been out of work a long time.
One of them had gone to Miss B_'s to learn to sew. "She gets her
breakfast before she starts," said the old woman, "an' she takes a
piece o' bread with her, to last for th' day." It was a trouble to
her to talk much, so we did not stop long; but I could not help
feeling sorry that the poor old soul had not a little more comfort
to smooth her painful passage to the grave. On our way from this
place, we went into a cottage near the "Coal Yard," where a tall,
thin Irishwoman was washing some tattered clothes, whilst her
children played about the gutter outside. This was a family of
seven, and they were all out of work, except the father, who was
away, trying to make a trifle by hawking writing-paper and
envelopes. This woman told us that she was in great trouble about
one of her children--the eldest daughter, now grown up to womanhood.
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