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OF THE EXPERIENCE AND CUSTOMERS OF A TURF-CUTTER.
  
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OF THE EXPERIENCE AND CUSTOMERS OF
A TURF-CUTTER.

A short but strongly-built man, of about thirty,
with a very English face, and dressed in a
smock-frock, wearing also very strong unblacked
boots, gave me the following account: —

"My father," he said, "was in the Earl of
— 's service, and I was brought up to stable-
work. I was employed in a large coaching inn,
in Lancashire, when I was last employed in
that way, but about ten years ago a railway line
was opened, and the coaching was no go any
longer; it hadn't a chance to pay, so the horses
and all was sold, and I was discharged with a
lot of others. I walked from Manchester to
London — for I think most men when they don't
know what in the world to do, come to London —
and I lived a few months on what little money
I had, and what I could pick up in an odd job
about horses. I had some expectations when
I came up that I might get something to do
through my lord, or some of his people — they
all knew me: but my lord was abroad, and his
establishment wasn't in town, and I had to
depend entirely on myself. I was beat out three
or four times, and didn't know what to do, but
somehow or other I got over it. At last — it's
between eight and nine years ago — I was fairly
beat out. I was taking a walk — I can't say just
now in what way I went, for it was all one
which way — but I remember I saw a man cut-
ting turf, and I remembered then that a man
that lived near me lived pretty middling by
turf-cutting. So I watched how it was done,
and then I inquired how I could get into it, and
as I'd paid my way I could give reference to
show I might be trusted; so I got a barrow on
hire, and a basket, and bought a knife for 3d. at
a marine-shop, and set to work. At first I only
supplied shops, but in a little time I fell into a
private round, and that pays better. I've been
at it almost every day, I may say, ever since.
My best customers are working people that's
fond of birds; they're far the best. It's the
ready penny with them, and no grumbling.
I've lost money by trusting noblemen; of course
I blame their servants. You'd be surprised, sir,
to hear how often at rich folks' houses, when
they've taken their turf or what they want,
they'll take credit and say, `O, I've got no
change,' or `I can't be bothered with ha'pence,'
or `you must call again.' There's one great
house in Cavendish — square always takes a
month's credit, and pays one month within an-
other (pays the first month as the second is
falling due), and not always that very regular.
They can't know how poor men has to fight for
a bit of bread. Some people are very particular
about their turfs, and look very sharp for the
small clover leaves. We never have turfs left
on hand: in summer we water them to keep
them fresh; in wet weather they don't require
it; they'll keep without. I think I make on
turf 9s. a week all the year round; the sum-
mer's half as good again as the winter. Sup-
posing I make 3s. a week on groundsel, and
chickweed, and snails, and other things, that's
12s. — but look you here, sir. I pay 3s. 6d. a
week for my rent — it's a furnished room — and
1s. 6d. a week for my barrow; that's 5s. off the
12s.; and I've a wife and one little boy. My
wife may get a day at least every week at
charring; she has 1s. for it and her board. She
helps me when she's not out, and if she is out,
I sometimes have to hire a lad, so it's no great
advantage the shilling a day. I've paid 1s. 6d. a week for my barrow — it's a very good and big
one — for four years. Before that I paid 2s. a
week. O yes, sir, I know very well, that at
1s. 6d. a week I've paid nearly 14l. for a barrow
worth only 2l. 2s.; but I can't help it; I really
can't. I've tried my hardest to get money to
have one of my own, and to get a few sticks
(furniture) of my own too. It's no use trying
any more. If I have ever got a few shillings
a-head, there's a pair of shoes wanted, or there's


158

illustration [Description: 915EAF. Page 158.]
something else, or my wife has a fit of sickness,
or my little boy has, or something's sure to
happen that way, and it all goes. Last winter
was a very hard time for people in my way,
from hoar frost and fogs. I ran near 3l. into
debt; greater part of it for house-rent and my
barrow; the rest was small sums borrowed of
shopkeepers that I served. I paid all up in the
summer, but I'm now 14s. in debt for my bar-
row; it always keeps me back; the man that
owns it calls every Sunday morning, but he
don't press me, if I haven't money. I would
get out of the life if I could, but will anybody
take a groom out of the streets? and I'm not
master of anything but grooming. I can read
and write. I was brought up a Roman Catholic,
and was christened one. I never go to mass
now. One gets out of the way of such things,
having to fight for a living as I have. It seems
like mocking going to chapel, when you're
grumbling in your soul."