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from a very old and very generous friend of the Society, with the kind words-'It is a great pleasure to me to do anything that I can to help your good work.' Another cheque for 10%. came and an order for 10s. from a baker who has had much pleasure in filling a collecting card. A large number of parcels of work, Christmas gifts, and clothing for the poor also received.

'Holly House, Luton. 'My dear Sir,-You always have so much to do I hardly like troubling you, but we thought you could help us. About four months ago a young man of nineteen was found lying under an engine, most dreadfully burned. He was at once taken to our Cottage Hospital, where he still is. My brother, who attends him, says it is really wonderful how he has lived. He has had one arm amputated, and on the hand of his other arm he has only a finger and thumb left. The poor man has no friends who can help him, and he must spend the rest of his life in a workhouse unless we can get him into some Home for Incurables. Can you tell us of any Home where the poor man might be received? Please forgive me for troubling you; and, with kind regards, believe me yours very sincerely,

'C. S.'

Can any of our readers help with suggestions as to this poor lad's future?

November 22.-There is quite a crowd already round the new stall on the Docks. After dinner was over to-day, a policeman came up and remarked upon the difference of the men's demeanour towards the Sisters and to the beerman round the corner; there, he said, their language is anything but choice, while round the soup-stand, excited though they may be by the dread of not getting their dinner in good time, an uncivil word is rarely heard, and, indeed, continued the friendly policeman, 'I don't believe you will often get a rough word from these chaps, though they are some of the lowest men in London, for they know you come down to help them, and if one was to say anything, another would shut him up at once.'

This is quite true, for if a man by chance growls out that his helping is small, or his soup has too much or too little salt in it, he is at once desired to shut up,' or 'to be thankful for what he has got.' On one occasion, when a man ventured to criticise the food, one of his mates immediately stepped forward, and said politely, 'Don't you mind what he says, ma'am ; all us fellows thinks it's excellent, and we 'preciates it.'

November 23-Two hundred and forty-two street arabs fed at Shoreditch. The pushing and struggling of these hungry children to get 'first served' can hardly be imagined. The device was tried of putting up the chain of the Mission-house door, and making each unruly applicant enter by bending under the yoke. Great was their astonishment at first. 'Why, there's the chain up!' 'Don't yer push so!' 'I've got a blow in my eye!' 'He's just knocked my 'ead!'

'Stoop under' was all the sympathy the sufferers received; and really, as only one could thus get in at a time, the plan seemed at first to be a bright success. But, alas! the door, like every other part of the Missionhouse, is thin, and weak, and old ; and, under the unwonted pressure, it gave way with a crash, at the hinges. Happily, however, the 'feeding time' was nearly at an end. A man all tattered and torn' offered his help in place of the injured policeman of last week, and as he had no boots worth mentioning, he was able to give his undivided attention to his task, until a Sister appeared at the door with the announcement, No more soup; no more pudding; all gone!'

November 26.-A letter just received from Guiana describes the delight with which an altar-cloth, sent out by the C. E. A., has been welcomed. The writer adds, 'I trust you will not forget the application I have made for Communion plate. Our two chapels, St. Barnabas' and St. Stephen's, are entirely unsupplied with any sacred vessels. When I read, last month, in Our Work, which I value most highly, that a clergyman had received from you a private Communion set, I must confess that I felt a

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'I enclose an order for 5. I wish we could afford more in recognition of the many good works that you are carrying on. Would that we had some Sisters to help us in our uphill work in this country! You can have no idea how desperately low and degraded our whole people are in the scale of civilisation, and they show but little disposition to improve.

'I am looking forward to taking a rest. next year, if it please GOD to give me strength to hold out so long. I have now spent twenty-three years in this trying climate, and before I take my leave I hope, with your kind help, to leave my successor-churches well supplied with everything that is decent.'

At Simla a number of young people-full of kindly thought for others have formed themselves into a little society called 'The Simla Children's Hospital Aid Association.' This morning we received 57. from their fund, and they promise some Christmas gifts in the shape of clothing. Fifteen pounds came from a clergyman in Queensland-10% of which is to be spent in Christmas dinners for the poor in any part of London, and 57. given. to the Orphanage.

During the past week, an average of four fresh members have joined the Society daily, and letters quite pour in with requests for the rules and conditions of membership, as well as for papers and circulars respecting the work of the Association.

Requests that we will take orphan boys. are continually reaching us: would that we could! May the day soon come when we shall be able to add a large Home for entirely friendless boys to our other charities !

Many of our present charges have one or more little brothers scattered up and down

the country in the English workhouses, and very piteous are the letters they send to their more fortunate sisters, entreating them to 'get us out,' or 'to find some nice Home like what you've got to.'

November 28.-We all take great interest,' writes a member of the C.E.A., 'in your numerous works, especially, I think, in your Restaurants for Workmen. I hope I may live to see one put up some day by you in Whitechapel! I was being shown over the Docks yesterday, and heard your Restaurant there most thankfully spoken of.'

It is certainly no small matter for thankfulness that we have been able to begin a work of practical utility for a class who seem to have been hitherto entirely left out of the calculations of the charitable and philanthropic. A body of men more in need of a hot mid-day meal, and more utterly unable to provide it for themselves, it would not be. easy to find.

Yet, sorry as we feel for the men inside the Dock as they gather round, pale and exhausted with their morning's work, our compassion is still more deeply stirred by the crowds of the unemployed who literally line the streets from twelve to one o'clock.

These are the unfortunates who have failed in 'getting taken on' at the commencement of the day, and who have hung about hour after hour in the hope that some fortunate wind might blow in a stray ship, and that the calling foreman might come out and tell them they are 'wanted' to help unload it.

Should this functionary appear, the crowd of unwilling idlers rush forward in a stream towards the gate, though they know that but six or eight can be hired out of the hundreds waiting.

This being so, our readers can imagine the mad fight that takes place-the scuffling and scrambling, the raising of hands, the entreaties screamed forth. All shout out something some the foreman's name; others their own, to remind him that they are there. The appeal is made in patois of a very varied description. A practised ear

can distinguish that the 'vulgar tongue' is being spoken by men from Yorkshire, Cornwall, Somersetshire, Lancashire, &c., not to speak of those who evidently hail from Ireland, Wales, or Scotland, or the broken accents of a number of seedy looking foreigners.

To look in the faces of that hungry crowd is a sight that must ever be remembered. For weeks some have gone there, and have day by day passed through the same struggle and uttered the same cries. But still they come and go without the work they wish for.

It is a common thing to hear unthinking, better-to-do people say, that every industrious man can obtain employment if he pleases. Let such persons visit this--one of the saddest sights in London-and see the eager applicants for this hard and heavy labour, and they will find reason to change their opinion. Often do we turn over in our mind some plan for relieving the privations of this suffering crowd. But there are many difficulties in the way.

'Make a

A friend of the Society, who had been. looking over the London Dock, was leaving by one of the side gates, when he saw that it was quite blocked up by unemployed labourers, who were craning their necks in the hope that the calling-foreman might appear upon the scene. gangway!' roared the policeman, and the poor fellows fell back on either side. They looked as if they could have eaten me,' said our friend. 'I felt positively ashamed of my good coat and well-fed frame as I pushed my way through those famished-looking men!'

November 30.-A cheque for 150/. came from a lady who has for several years past sent 50%. on S. Andrew's Day as an offering for Foreign Missions. This year she has generously added a gift of 100l. for the Convalescent Home.

Several parishes are setting on foot working parties for the Orphanage. Some agree to supply an entire suit of clothes for one child; others prefer providing a petticoat or a pinafore for each child in a whole group of orphans. We need hardly say that both these plans are extremely acceptable to us.

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Five pounds came all the pobello, sent by a teacher, who tells us that she has been able to enlist the sympathies of the children in her Sunday class, and they have all very gladly given to the work at Kilburn. Several boxes and hampers, full of useful and pretty articles, have been left at our door this week. One basket deserves a special notice, as, besides petticoats for the orphans, it contains some very pretty French dolls, frames, and prints, all just received from Paris.

December 1.-The wool sales, which began in all the Docks of London last week, and which are largely attended by English and foreign buyers, make a perceptible difference in the amount of food required to satisfy the hunger of the dock-labourers, and though an extra amount of cooking has been done, the supplies have sometimes fallen short. On Saturday, for instance, after about 300 slices of pudding had been sold, the pudding basket was reported empty. Fortunately, however, a few apple puffs had been brought, and these were welcomed with loud cries of 'Here's the dessert,' 'No, there ain't no more pudding left-there's only dessert now.'

The Restaurant the last two or three days has been much brightened by a present of beautiful fern, ivy leaves, and scarlet hips, sent by a country friend, and as fresh as if just gathered. This was just what was wanted to decora'e the little fountain that stands in one of the windows.

Another very acceptable gift appeared last week in the shape of a flag to float over our Restaurant, and announce its purport to strangers.

The design is a plain red cross on dark blue bunting, with S. Katharine's Sailors' Restaurant' in large white letters.

December 3.-To-day an accident, which has always been anticipated, befell the trucks of provisions on their way through the Ducks. An iron bridge which has to be crossed, and which closes a certain lock, had been swung back upon its hinges to admit an incoming vessel. So there was the food on one side of the lock, and the expectant crowd on the

other. However, patience was the only remedy, and very patient the men proved themselves to be during the intervening twenty minutes; then they quickly clustered round the soup-cans, &c., determined to make up for lost time.

We have (alas!) been again sadly reminded of the character borne by some of our customers, by the disappearance of three meatsandwiches without any equivalent being offered; they were on the very edge of the stand, and doubtless the temptation must have been too strong for some poor hungry fellow-not unused to getting an occasional meal in a questionable manner. One of our most constant customers is, curiously enough, the owner of the adjacent beer-stall. After he had dined to-day, he came to ask for some change, and then remarked in the most cordial manner, 'The men do like your soups; you should just hear what they say about them. I don't mind if we do sell less beer because of them, for we sell quite enough at home; we don't get off so much, by six gallons, as we used to do.'

On Sundays the Sailors' Restaurant is now utilised to give a free breakfast and some simple instruction afterwards, to a number of the ragged, starving boys of this wretched neighbourhood. To-day came a letter from the father of one of these young scholars, saying what a boon the breakfast had been to his boys, since for half the previous week they had had very little food and no fire at all.

Self-Supporting Soup
Kitchens.

HE name 'Soup Kitchen' is not suggestive of pleasant memories either to the English poor or the English public generally. Instinctively, as we hear it, we conjure up visions of hard winters and starving poor; of times of war, famine, and fever; of potato failure in Ireland, of cotton

dearth in Lancashire; and many other seasons of sadness and suffering.

And even in times of average prosperityduring winters when we have to cope with no unusual amount of cold, and want, and misery -the soup-kitchen institution is wont to inspire those who benefit by it with a certain sense of contempt; and those who support it with a vague feeling of distrust as to whether, after all, they are really doing much good.

For what is the ordinary type of soup kitchen? For premises--a small shop or a kitchen in some crowded neighbourhood is rented and furnished with a huge boiler. A woman who professes to understand the business is hired; and here it may be noticed that an incompetent servant, charwoman, laundress, Bible - woman, sempstress

any

one, in short, who has proved herself a failure in every other capacity-will offer herself confidently for the post of cook and superintendent of the soup kitchen. "It don't take much art to do that!' will be urged by a woman whose own husband is forced by her mismanagement to take all his meals at a public-house, but who is not the less certain that the situation at the soup kitchen will just suit her.

A receipt for charity soup is next hunted. up-a receipt, it must be owned, based upon the fallacy, that-given a number of ingredients all nourishing and palatable in themselves, these ingredients blended together must produce a whole which will be acceptable food for any hungry person.

Next the neighbourhood is canvassed for contributions, and an inducement is held out to the charitable to subscribe liberally, by the promise that the bestowal of a certain sum will entitle the giver to an equivalent number of free tickets for distribution. This is a great attraction to a numerous class of people, who, knowing as they do that it does more harm than good to give alms indiscriminately to all who beg for assistance, yet cannot bear to turn the beggar unrelieved from their door, and are therefore glad to compromise the matter by offering a soup ticket.

So pecuniary help is not wanting, and, all

besides being ready, the soup kitchen on a certain day is opened.

If this takes place in some poor and crowded vicinity, the rush at first is tremendous. Men and women, boys and girls, down to little children, form quite a crowd long before the door is open-each one carrying either a jug, basin, stone-bottle, pickle-jar, oil-can, kettle, or saucepan, &c., in which to receive the coveted food.

Some hold free tickets; others grasp pennies in their hands. There is a good deal of pushing and jostling, and some of the soup is spilt and lost, ere its bearer can reach the outside of the crowd. It looks 'solid and good' as it is ladled out of the steaming copper, and as the purchasers carry off their penny or halfpenny portions, as the case may be, they feel that they have at least obtained a good deal for their money.

Sundry sips of the food are taken on the way back; and the naughty little boys, who have been sent by their too-confiding mothers on this errand, take care to pick out every bit of meat before they reach home.

This goes on for two or three weeks, and then murmurs begin to arise and customers drop off. It is complained that the soup is greasy, tasteless, stodgy, burnt, sour, &c.; and it is true.

The soup has always been too thick ; and as the impromptu cook grows gradually more careless, this fault grows also, and laziness with respect to the constant stirring needed, results in giving the whole a bitter, burnt flavour. Inaccuracy in the seasoning added renders the soup tasteless, and the bakers' bread thrown in for thickening makes it sour. The butcher who contracted to supply the meat did so conscientiously at the first; but soon discovering the feeble capacity of the soup-maker, he palms off upon her all the fat and gristle which no one else will take. Thus does the soup become greasy.

The possessors of free tickets still present themselves with edifying punctuality; but it is rumoured that in many cases they sell 'the mess,' as they call it, to fatten pigs. In short, the population-suffering though they

may be from poverty and privation-show plainly that so long as they can get anything else to eat they will not partake of the soup.

So, towards the end of the season it sinks into a mere vehicle for 'giving charity,' and the managers take advantage of the first glint of fine weather to close it. From 50%. to 100l. is often spent in this manner in the course of the winter, and a very unsatisfactory way of spending money it seems to be.

There are other soup kitchens where the food offered must be consumed on the premises, and to which admission is by free ticket only. This institution is more objectionable than the other. The benevolent individuals who issue these tickets are well known to all the idle, drunken, loafing vagabonds of the vicinity. By judicious calculations these men are able to avoid calling too frequently upon the same ticket dispenser. When they do present themselves, they whine out some tale that would melt a heart of stone, and so wheedle the proprietor out of a great many more of these cards of admission than he intended in the first place to give.

Thus a set of scamps will live for half a winter on such a soup kitchen. They do not like the soup, it is true; but they like it much better than starvation on the one hand, or work on the other.

Such being the present position that soup kitchens too often hold in the economy of charity and I do not think I have painted my sketch in too gloomy colours—it may well be asked, 'What is the reason, and what is the remedy?'

The reason is that these depôts for dispensing this particular sort of food are worked on altogether a wrong principle; for they are made a burden upon the public when they ought to be, and might be, selfsupporting.

Soups, as we remarked in a former paper, find much more favour with the English public than is generally supposed. It is our unskilfulness, as a nation, in preparing this. sort of food which makes it so unpopular.

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