LONDON PRIDE!

Waikato Times, Volume XXXIII, Issue 2704, 9 November 1889, Page 5 (Supplement)

LONDON PRIDE!

[Bγ Jamkk Grocnwooo, .in BkistoiTjmkn. I INFANT OUTCASTS. At one of the largest of our London workhouses there is attached to the infant pauper department a nursery especially for the reception of human waifs and strays, abandoned by their unnatural parents. For the most part, they have been left in the night-time on door steps or by the wayside, where they would bo pretty sure of being discovered by the policeman going the round of his bent. Several of their number, however, had been deposited without so much as a label or a direction card, packed in bags and boxes, and left in the waiting, rooms at railway stations, of which there are two in the immediate vicinity. This last would seem to point to theprobablity thai, the exceptional kindness with which abandoned babes are treated by the guardians of the parish in question is a matter talked of beyond its limits, with the result that desperate, husbaudless young mothers, residing a few miles in the country, incited thereto possibly by rascally male individuals, who have at least as deep an interest as the former in shirking parental responsibility, not uncommonly confer their unprofitable patronage on this hospitable parochial asylum. For this reason it would obviously be unwise, and unjust to the heavily-burdened taxpayers, to be more explicit as to the particular district in which it is situated. Bat it is interesting to pass an hour in the waifs' ward, and make the acquaintance of the forlorn little brood, and learn something of the circumstances under which they were literally "thrown" on the parish. Cunning are the devices resorted to by sonic of those castersout of their helpless offspring, in hope of securing , for them earo and attention beyond the ordinary. I was introduced to one young gentleman, now in his tenth month, but "who, at the timo when ho was discovered, early one frosty mornintr, daringly suspended in a poultry basket from the front railings of the rclievingoflicnr's own abode, was not more than three or four days old. Accordiu<r to a scrap of writing, pinned to tbo old flannel petticoat, which was its only wrapping, this infant was a personage of greater importance than the condition under which he was discovered would justify anyone in assuming. Ben Basket—the name conferred on him-certainly had not tho appearance of a babo that, by right, should have been robed in the finest linen, marked with a coronet. He was a stubbnosed, bullet-headed little chap, with a wide mouth, and a decidedly Irish twiuklo in his grey eyes, as though he was a party to the attempted imposture, and rather enjoyed tho joke of being palmed off as a young nobleman temporarily under a cloud. Such, however, was the fact, if the word of those who were glad to get rid of him might be taken for it. It was so stated in the note already mentioned. Tho ill-spelt scrawl is carefully preserved with many others,—the accumulation of several years, the faint possibility being that, one day, they may be useful in establishing a waif's identity. It reads as follows :— "Honoured sir,—The blessed babe which crool fate kimpels me to hang on to your ralins, is the fruits of my bein so weak as to yield to a sekrit marrigo with a Livin Hurl, whose child lir is and hare to a large istate. Time will reveal all, which no doubt his likeness to his father will soon speak for itself in such a_ wny it will be no longer possible for him to deny it. Your care of my poor babe will then be repade a hundred fold." Up to the present time, however, tho scion of a noble liou«e, who so meanly screens his unnatural behaviour behind a "sekrit" marriasr", has made no move towards acknowledging his son and heir, nor has tbo hint been acted on that the latter should bo taken to the House of Lords, with a view to discovering u facial resemblance between him and one of the patrician company there assembled. Another of tho " little unknowns," a girl, is boldly claimed by a statement written by the motbor, and attached to its little bedgown, to bo the daughter of a distinguished statesman. In this instance, however, the impudent would-be traducer of the fair fame of a groat politician was discovered. She proved to bo the daughter of a costcrmorifcur, who kept a street stali for tho sale of whelks and winkles, and at which she herself assisted. Her plea, when before the magistrate, was that the " idea" was not her own. but that of the young man with whom she had made guilty acquaintance, he being a comic singer at a minor music-hall. But tho circumstances qualifying an infant for tho waifs' ward were not all of them auyising. Soino were touchiugly pathetic. Tl'inro was one child, a pretty little creature, about six months old, si ml now apparently well! and hearty, but a few weeks previously it had been in imminent peril of death by drowning, with tho only consolation, could it have known it, that it was chsped to the last in its mother's arms. Tho particulars of tho case were indeed pitiful. It appeared that the young woman, whose parents were in a good way of business near Birmingham, had rashly fallen in lovo with one of her father's journeymen a fork-grinder by trade, and, unknown to her friends and relatives, married him in secret, tho agreement between them being that their marriage should remain a secret until an improvement in his position, and which "he looked forward Id with certainty, was realised. But be fell ill with an affection of the lungs, and, having no means of support, his wife she visited him by stealth sit his lodgingsand provided him with necessary comforts. Ho was ailing a long time, and at Inst her parents got to hear of her mysterious visits to .fohn P , and the truth eamo out, with tho result that her father was so exasperated that ho refused to have anything further to do with her unless she ajrreed never to see tho man sho had

married again. fSueh preposterous terms, of course, couUl not be ucoededlHo, a.ml the young couple lived together in great poverty, the husband still ill, and nothing move coming in to keep them and pay the doetor but what she could earn at beadembroidery. At, length a baby was born, and as a natural consequence the pi'vh of penury became more acute, the mother being unable to do as much work as formerly. Desperately driven, she .it length, wrote to her father, begging a little help, and promptly came back tin: iisml-heartei answer that, even now the offer marlo to her was still open. All thai she had to do was to give up the man she had married, and she might return to tin: parental home, and live there with lvchild if comfort, otherwise she _«';»" ' never receive a shilling or a chilli.:, worth of. assistance.

She had made the appeal unknown to her husband, and she kept to herself the cruel reply, so far as she knew, that is to say. But poor John P , whose health was worse, quite by accident discovered tin; letter, and heroically resolved that his wife aud child should have the benefit of it. As it was they were more than half the time hungry and wanting the hare necessaries of existence, and if he were out of tho way they would be provided for. Saying nothing as to what lie had read in the letter, he announced to his wife that he had heard of and accepted good work in London, and that as soon as he could got together a little home he would send for her.

To this she rolnetantly agreed, but days and weeks passed and she heard nothing of him. Assuming that her husband had deserted her, her father once more offered her the asylum of her old home, but she scornfully refused it, and, haunted by the dread that her husband liad been taken ill again and was unable even to write to her, she resolved to go np to London in search of him. vShe had no money, and she walked mauy miles cf the long journey carrying her babe. How weary and foot-sore she must have been was shown by the circumstances that when she was taken out of the river she had on but one ragged boot, her other foot being bound up in an old pocket handkerchief. But with no clue as to where John P—— was to be found in or near London, her quest, as may be supposed, was a hopeless one. For three days she wandered hither and thither in London, living and lodging the while on four shillings, for which, as a last resource, she had pawned her wedding-ring. She at last lost all heart, and her last penny spent, she one night leapt with her infant in her arms from the height of a bridge into the Thames. Still clasping her precious burden, she was rescued from the river by a boatman and brought ashore, and carried to the workhouse, where, in the infirmary, she lingered long enough to tell her pitiful story, when she died, leaving to parochial care her little child, who, strangely enough, seemed none the worse for what had happened. As for poor John P , inquiry being made for him at the various hospitals, it was discovered that he had been admitted as an in-patient at one where consumptives are treated, and had died a week before his wife set out on tramp from Birmingham to London.

Romantic, but from an entirely different aspect, was the case of the urchin whose cot stood next to that occupied by the little waif from the river. This was one of the foundlings from the waiting-room at the railway station, but it had not come thence direct. It was probably shame, rather than poverty, that had cau.sud its abandonincut. Not more than two or three dnys old, it had been drugged, and then carefully packed in an expensive leather bag, the sides of which were perforated to give the little prisoner a chance of breathing, and the clothes it was dressed in were anything but common. A person dressed like a lady had brought the bag in with her, and as a detective stated, in giving evidence, she pkeed it on a seal , , and then sauntered out to the platform. H;id the policeman io disguise had any suspicion of the real state of the case, he would have laid an arresting hand on the " lady " there and then ; but his observation was concentrated on the movements of a well-known luggage-thief who was prowling around, and presently spying the likely-looking and unprotected bag, he coolly appropriated it and made off. It was dark at the time, and the robber, mixing with the crowd from a train just arrived, for the moment eluded his pursuer, who, however, ran out into the street, and met with his mau just as ho was emerging with his booty. But the latter, recognising the officer, bolted, and threw the bag in at the window of a cab standing on the cab rank, but did not succeed in making his escape. The " stilen property" was, of course, recovered, and, as may be easily imagined, great was the amazement of the detective and of all the police station officials when, as the prisoner was being '"charged," an infant's wailing voice suddenly made itself heard in their midst. 'J , here could be no doubt that it came from the black bag. and the tiny captive was speedily released, and as the lav/ provides in such cases, it was, " for the present " taken to the workhouse. That is nearly a yoar ago, so that there has been ample tune for the "lady "to reclaim it, if she had no intention of deserting the child, but merely adopted a novel and convenient way of carrying it on a railway journey. But nothing has been seen or hoard of her. Probably, had it not been for the thiof's timely detection, nothing from that hour to this would have been seen ov heard of the mite of humanity, so shamefully abandoned. An unscrupulous scoundrel, who hurries home with a supposed prize, which, on investigation, turns out to be only a squallinc baby, is not unlikely to solace himself in a savage way for his disappointment.