Stories of East London

or,
(Peeps into Busy Places).
by C.J.L.
London Gospel Tract Depot, 20, Paternoster Square, E.C.

Contents.
Chapter 1. Jute Hands
Chapter 2. Blind Maria
Chapter 3. Among The Match Girls
Chapter 4. Match Box Makers
Chapter 5. Fancy Boxes
Chapter 6. Toy Makers
Chapter 7. Working In The Dark
Chapter 8. Working Girls
Chapter 9. Brush Makers And Braille Makers
Chapter 10. Among The Hop Pickers
Chapter 11. Surgical Bandage Makers
Chapter 12. A Rock-Bound Coast

Chapter 1.

Jute Hands.

Who is willing to join me in a ramble to-day? We have taken some pleasant ones together. Many a bright autumn morning has found us on the sands or by the shore, hunting among sea-weeds and pebbles for crabs or starfish, learning a little more than we might have known before of the wisdom and power of God in His care for such weak tiny things as sea snails or hermit crabs.

But our walks on this occasion will not take us within sight or sound of the sea; we are not going to the fields to gather flowers or to the woods to return with baskets well filled with nuts.

Ah! I see you are beginning to wonder where I am going to take you. To pay some visits, and get a few peeps at the working girls of East London.

Edith looks up with a smile and says, "It will be delightful," for she has read of little children who work at match box making, and would very much like to see some of them.

Match box making is only one of many occupations in which we shall find the girls we are going to see employed, and though I am glad to be able to tell you that the amount of child-labour in East London is not nearly so large as it was before the law of England required that every child in Great Britain should receive some education, still we shall find much that will, I hope, prove interesting.

Where shall we begin?

Suppose we visit a jute factory, and take a peep at "the hands," as the working girls are called, who spend so much of their week-day lives within its walls.

But perhaps before we ring the bell I had better tell you where all the jute comes from.

It does not grow in England, so has to be sent over from some other country. Much of it comes from Russia and the cold countries north of the Baltic.

Frank says, "It is an import."

He is quite right, and I should have used the word myself, only I was afraid some of my very little friends might not know its meaning.

Many shiploads of jute come into the Port of London every year. If we were to visit the Docks we should see it lying about in large bales.

It is a vegetable fibre, not unlike flax or hemp. It is largely used in making ropes, coarse sacks, and for other purposes. Some of the very same jute, too, spun and dyed, re-enters the market under another name. It is the ice wool some of our girls are so fond of working into shawls, caps and other pretty and useful birthday or New Year presents.

But the jute as we see it in the Docks is what is called in its raw state and must pass through many hands, as it needs to be cleaned, combed, sorted, etc., before it will be ready for use.

Let us go into the factory. What a busy scene it is! Great numbers of girls are at work picking or combing the jute. They seem very poor, but most of them are clean, and we are glad to notice the rooms are airy and well lighted in which their work has to be done.

Many of the young work-people attend Sunday school or Bible class, so they have heard the sweet story of a Saviour's love, and there is reason to hope that a few at least have not only heard but believed the gospel message, and are seeking in their daily walk and ways to please and honour the Lord Jesus.

One who knows the jute girls better than I do, has often told me how for quite a long time any attempt to bring them under the sound of the gospel seemed such very discouraging, almost hopeless work, that several who had tried, gave it up, saying, "It is of no use." For, though perhaps it would be going too far to say that even at the time of which I write there were not one or two christian girls in the jute factory, taking them as a class they were perhaps the wildest and roughest of all the working girls of East London: hardly one went to Sunday school, and when any were invited to attend they would refuse, saying, We don't like to sit with girls who wear better clothes than ourselves."

But "God, who is rich in mercy," had thoughts of peace and blessing even for these poor neglected girls: He wanted them to hear of His love to sinners, and the story of how a Bible class for them grew from a very small beginning will, I feel sure, be read with interest by all our young friends.

Chapter 2.

Blind Maria.

Oh, how I wish I could get just a few of those poor jute girls to come to my house sometimes! I would, with the blessing of the Lord, teach them to read their Bibles, and tell them of the love of God in the gift of His Son. But I have asked them ever so many times and they will not come.

Thoughts something like these you have just been reading were passing through the mind of an earnest worker for Christ as one Sunday afternoon he passed the jute factory on his way to school, where, as he knew, the girls of his Bible class would be waiting for him.

He might not like me to tell you his real name, so we will call him Mr. Marks. That he had very often tried to make friends with the jute girls was quite true; but perhaps it was because they were so little used to kind words they seemed afraid to trust him.

Sometimes they would run away laughing loudly, in a way that seemed to say, "Oh, you don't want us, we are only jute hands;" or, what was even more trying, now and then one would say, "Yes; I should like to learn to read," and would promise to go to his house for the first lesson on the very next evening, a promise that had never been kept.

But Mr. Marks had done more, he had taken his desire to help and teach the jute girls to God in prayer, asking Him to shew him a way by which they could be reached. And though I think he hardly knew himself how it came about, on that very afternoon he closed his Bible five minutes before the time for lessons was up and began telling his girls of his great wish to form an evening class among the workers in the jute mill. He asked any who had begun to pray for themselves to pray for the talked-of class, and said he should be glad of any help they could give.

Among the girls who had listened to him was one who was quite blind, Maria as she was called by all who knew her.

She went home that day with one great desire filling her heart, a longing to please and help her much-loved teacher. It did not seem as if a blind girl could do much, but Maria was going to try.

She knew one of the jute girls, whose mother had often worked for her mother, and in some way she contrived to get to her house at a time when she knew Rose would be likely to be at home.

"Please, Rose, I have come to ask you if you would do something very kind for me. Will you take me to school next Sunday?" Maria said, and gaining courage as she went on, continued, "I do love going, and sometimes my brother has to go out on Sunday for the gentleman he works for, and then I have to stay at home, for you know I can't go alone, only when somebody takes me."

The last appeal was too much for Rose. While she did not care about going herself, she felt as if she could not refuse to take a little trouble to give so much pleasure to her sightless friend, and though I think she began to make some excuse about not having any clothes fit to go in, you may be sure Maria did not leave till Rose had promised to call for her the next Sunday.

She kept her promise most faithfully, and I shall leave you to judge for yourselves of Maria's delight as she said to her teacher, "Please, sir, Rose works at the jute mill."

After school Rose found herself staying behind with Maria and Mr. Marks, talking to the latter as if he were an old friend.

"Yes," she said; if he did not mind beginning a class with only two girls, she would be willing to attend, and she could, she thought, promise that the girl who worked next to her in the mill would join it too, for they were great friends and always loved to do the same things and go to the same places.

And so the class was begun, and though for some weeks Rose and her friend were the only ones who came, it soon grew into quite a large one, and before the winter came on, a christian lady, on hearing that many of these poor girls had never been taught to sew, offered to teach any who would meet her after work hours in a bright, pleasant room, how to cut out as well as how to make and mend their clothes.

After a few months it was encouraging to see how much more tidy many of the girls began to look; their manners, too, were less rude and noisy.

But, better still, a few were beginning to ask, each one for herself, "What must I do to be saved?" And we know one only answer to that question could meet the need of any soul who, led by the Holy Spirit, really longs to know Christ as a Saviour