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AMONG THE UNEMPLOYED IN SYDNEY.

Wk make the following extracts from the narrated experiences of tlie special commissioner of the Sydney Morning Herald, wlio, disguised us an mem-

ployed, recently spent a night at the 1 Exhibition Building, Prince Albert 1 Park, Sydney, where sleeping aeconi- •' modntion is now provided for i) 10 or i 600 persons. ! At night time there is a busy scene, j for those who have been out all day seeking for work or charity are returning for shelter. " Good fresh bread this," said a grey-haired old man, as ha helped himself to one of the huge fractions of a loaf which lay ready cut 011 the table; " dry. but better than nothing." So, clutching his lump of bread, he passed on to the room where the blankets are given out arid presently was happily engaged devouring his evening meal. He was indebted for it to the kindness of some Sydney working-men, who that night, with generous anonymity, had sent up 120 loaves of bread to provide a supper for their distressed brethren. He was only one of many,

for after him came a long string ot other men, all bent on taking advantage of the hospitable shelter of the Exhibition Building. Then it came to my turn ; I had been hanging back, but the evil moment could no longer be delayed. I showed my bureau ticket with an air of nonchalance, thinking foolishly that my torn coat and faded shirt would suffice to pass me through as an old hand; but tho man at the door, who is lynx-eyed, was too smart for me. Been here before?" he asked. "No ; it s my first night." " "Well, yon must have a bath, then." " But I'm quite clean," I pleaded, showing my hands, which were only tolerably dirty. " Can't help that," .he replied abruptly, " every new man has to tub, come along." and so, meekly enough, I had to follow to the bathroom. It was no use explaining that I had had a good bath with plenty of soap that morning; my disguise was evidently complete, and I would have to suffer for it. Threading our way through the lines of men on the floor, some already asleep, we came at last to the bath-room on the far-away side of the big building. The apparatus was only of a temporary character, but quite sufficient for the purpose. A dozen large round tubs, and an abundance of water and soap, were all the furniture, if I except a large hose which played on you after the bath with a disagreeable dullness ; for the water, it must be confessed, was bitterly cold, and that is why so many of the men hate their tub, and will go to any length to avoid The bathman. by-the-way, is an artist in 1 his profession, and the rapidity with 1 which ho cleans his unwilling clients is remarkable. He looked on me with ' contempt, probably because I gave him no scope for the exercise of his science, and he dismissed me abruptly with the remark that I was not worth ' tubbing any way. But the next man who entered evidently was, for he bore upon Vnm the accumulated gatherings of many months of out-of-door wanderings. "Haven't had a bath for a year, I suppose," quoth the " Oh no, not so long as that," replied the victim. "Well, six months then? [ "Yes.it might be six months," he admitted, as "layer after layer of dirt came off. There seemed no reason to doubt the truth of his admission, and I watched him curiously, half expeot--1 inn- that another shirt, long since forgotten, would be found underneath ' it all. But I hadn't time to see the end, for I was clearel out and told to go and get my blankets, which were I being served out on the opposite sido of the building. I may mention that on entering, having shown my bureau ticket, I was given a blanket ticket, which enabled me to draw two warm 3 blankets from the store—blankets of the orthodox regulation kind, thick and comfortable. Then was left alone to choose my own sleeping place. There was plenty of room, certainly. The great floor of the building, which covers X don't know how many hundred feet, was as yet but scantily 0 occupied. The narrow smootkpolished boards—just as they were in the old rinking days—looked hard and uninviting. There was no possibility of adopting the sailors' plan, t, and choosing the soft side of a plank. Everywhere the floor was equally level and equally hard. Therefore, in order to have something behind me, I took my place against one of the side 7 walls, sat down on my blanket, and looked round on my company. I j- very soon found myself hemmed in with sleepers on either side. My

neighbour—a young man, who spoke with an educated absence of accentremarks in a friendly way that it is not quite so cold to-night. I agree, for in reality it is not cold at all inside the building. Then he goes on to explain: "It's better than sleeping out any where. Last week I caught a terrible cold in the Domain; got it in the chest," he added hoarsely. He is a young and delicately-made man, and quite unfit for any rough work—a clerk by profession. He has been for months out of work, and declares it is impossible in this great city to get anything to do. "It's hard lines to come to this," he says, as he takes off a shirt which once was white and hangs it on a nail over his head, " but what is a fellow to do ? " It must not be supposed that all the habitues of the building are equally • destitute. The old hands, experienced ; bushmdii, who have carried their swag

from end to -end of the colony, are quite at home here, and even find their j quarters luxurious. It is better to have a good roof over one's head than the cold wintry sky, and a deal floor, if hard, is dry and better than the damp grass. Many of these men still retain their swags, which the officials kindly take care of during the day time. At night the ceremony of bedmakit gis worth watching. The first thing is to choose the particular spot on the floor where youpropose to jamp.

Quite naturally the man arrange themselves in orderly rows up and down the building, having only narrow gangways between one man's head and another's feet. In one place a long piece,pf hard wood, left by some previous occupant of the hall, runs along the floor, and this spot is much favoured as a sleeping place, since the ridge makes a good nucleus for a pillow. Those who have tents lay them down first, then the blankets are oarefully arranged, one end is rolled up, and the boots placed underneath to' form a kind of pillow. The old domain betrays himself at once when making his bed. He still retains his custom of spreading newspapers under bis place of rest. In the domain he has nothing else, poor fellow, and paper has to serve as a substitute for blankets. But hero, when the floor is dry, and the blankets are warm, there is not the least necessity for this trick. Still the force of habit is too strong for him, and he could not sleep comfortably unless he first spread newspapers between his couch and the

floor. The process of undressing is a most complete one. Witli hardly an exception the m 11 strip entirety naked, roll their clothes up in a bundle, and place the in under their head. This ij another habit learned

through many nights sleeping in sharp lodging-houses. At the Exhibition Building where fumigation is constant, and were even' rule of cleanlirte.ss is observed, there is not the slightest need for this precaution, yet it is mechanically observed by nearly everyone. One man, who nightly frequents the building, has earned an enviable notoiiety for the regularity with which he says his prayers. He spends about an hour over his supplications, and though his conduct surprises the old hands, their innate good taste leaves him undisturbed. This I good taste or honesty of feeling shows itself in other ways, even extending to a tacit admission of the rights of property. A man will leave his blankets, his boots, his clothing, all he possesses in the world in fact, and go away to the smoking-room, confident of finding them intact on his return. The last visitors are admitted at 10 o'clock, and by half past ten, when the lights are lowered the sleepers are all immured in their blankets, and there is profound silence.

Permanent link to this item
Hononga pūmau ki tēnei tūemi

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/WT18920806.2.35.7

Bibliographic details
Ngā taipitopito pukapuka

Waikato Times, Volume XXXIX, Issue 3130, 6 August 1892, Page 2 (Supplement)

Word count
Tapeke kupu
1,464

AMONG THE UNEMPLOYED IN SYDNEY. Waikato Times, Volume XXXIX, Issue 3130, 6 August 1892, Page 2 (Supplement)

AMONG THE UNEMPLOYED IN SYDNEY. Waikato Times, Volume XXXIX, Issue 3130, 6 August 1892, Page 2 (Supplement)

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