Change in the Village

been another influence at work upon my neighbours, leaving its indelible mark on them. Almost from infancy onwards, in a most personal and intimate way,

ickness are better known and more openly discussed in the cottage than in comfortable middle-class homes. For it is all such a crowded business-that of living in these cramped dwellings. Besides, the injured and the sick, absorbed in the interest of their ailments, are amiably willing to give others an opportunity of sharing it. The disorder or the disablement is thus almost a family possession. An elderly man, who had offered to show me a terrible ulcer on his leg, smiled at my squeamishness, as if he pitied me, when I de

all, during the last fortnight I have heard of-have almost stumbled across-three cases of the sort. The first was that of a woman who had been taking in washing during her husband's long illness. Meeting the man, who was beginning to creep about again, I happened to ask how his wife was; and he said that she was just able to keep going, but hardly knew how to stand because of varicose veins in both legs. The second case, too, was a woman's. She met me on the road, and on the off chance asked if I could give her a letter of admission to the County Hospital, and so save her the pain of going down to the Vicarage to beg for a letter there. What was the matter? "I give birth to twins five months ago," she said, "and since then dropsy have set in. I gets heavier every day. The doctor wants me to go to the hospital, and I was goin' to the Vicar to ask for a letter, but I dreads comin' back up that hill." As it w

ion, for some of them arose from the death of old people. Yet in a little cottage held on a weekly tenancy death often involves the survivors of the family in more disturbance, more privation too, than it does elsewhere. Putting these cases aside, however, I could still see where, within two hundred yards of me, there had been four other deaths-one being that of an infant, and one that of a woman in child-birth. In the other two cases the victims were strong men-one, a railway worker, who was killed on the line; the other a carter, who died of injuries r

alf-a-dozen families whose cottages, for a wonder in this village, stood in a row; and amongst scraps of her talk which were repeated to me I heard how her little brother-only five years old, but strong at throwing stones-threw at a girl playmate and knocked out one of her eyes. That happened in the springtime. In the autumn of the same year a m

his little one suddenly came running dangerously near. "Take care, duc

in instant death.... The man was covered with blood, and all the ground, too. I was at work when I heared of it, but I couldn't go on after that, it upset me so.... And all this mornin' I can't get it out o'

ome that evening, told me: "We was passin' by at the time-me and m

en, was th

hought p'raps we could run for the doctor. But she went her

s. She felt sick. All the floor was covered with blood." The little maidservant had a curious look

s to suppose that across their secluded gardens and into their luxurious rooms, or even to their back-doors, an average English cottager is too proud to go. Yet it is hard to understand how all signs of what is so constantly happening can be shut out. For myself, I have never gone out of my way to look for what I see. I have never invited confidences. The facts that come to my knowledge seem to be merely the commonplaces of the village life. If examples of the people's troubles were

r more, and for the last two days had been spitting a great deal of blood. The woman looked very poor; she might have been judged needlessly shabby. A needle

expression of helplessness and resentment. The eyes were weary and pale-I fancied that trouble had faded the colour out of them. But with all this I got an impression of something dogged and unbeaten

need mending? As I have since learnt, at that period the youngest of her family was unborn, and the oldest cannot have been more than eight or nine. Besides nursing her sister, therefore, she had several children to wait upon, as well as her husband-a man often a

shift for themselves as best they can, with what little aid neighbours can find time to give; and where there are young children in the cottage, it is much if th

t to her own resources. According to someone I know, who looked in from time to time, she lay in bed with her new-born baby, utterly alone in the cottage, her husband being away at work all day for twelve hours, while the elder children were at school. She made no complaint, however, of being lonely; she thought the solitude good for her. But she was worried by thinking of the fire in the next room-the living-room, which had the only fireplace in the house, there being none in her bedroom-lest it should set fire to the cottag

ttle children who miss the help which the mother cannot give, and so on. But this case illustrates the normal situation. Here there was no actual destitution, nor any fear of it, and the other children were being cared for. The husband was earni

irst, and her poultice had gone cold. For yet one more example. I mentioned just now a man who was killed on the railway. His widow, quite a young woman then, reared her three or four children, earning some eight or nine shillings a week at charing or washing for people in the town; and still she keeps herself, pluckily industrious. There is one son living with her-an errand-boy-and there are two daughters both in service at a large new house in the village. During last spring the woman had influenza, and had to take to her bed, her girls

to their ways and means; in this, I only wish it to be remembered that the question of ways and means is a life-and-death one for the labourer and his wife, and leaves them little peace and little hope of it. During the trade depression which culminated in 1908-09 I was frequently made aware of the disquiet of their minds by the scraps of talk which reached me as I passed along the road, and were not me

gh the armour of her fortitude, and she began to cry. Then she told me of the position she was in, and the hopelessness of it, and her determination to hold out. Some charitable lady had called upon her. "Mrs. Curtis," the lady had said, "if ever you are ill, I hope you'll be sure and send to me." And Mrs. Curtis had replied: "Well, ma'am, if ever I sends, you may be sure I am ill." "But," she added, "they don't understand. 'Tis when you're on yer feet that help's wanted-not wait till 'tis too late." With regard to her present circumstances-she "didn't mi

smile-a shining-eyed smile-saying: "Well, 'tis only for life. If 'twas f

rd so compact as that was not one old woman's invention. To acquire such brevity and smoothness, it must have been wandering about the parish for years;