The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists
names down having gone 'on the drunk.' Another cause of delay was that they met or called on several other men who had not yet been asked for a subscription, and there were several others, including some members of the Painters' Society, whom Owen had spoken to during the week, who had promised him to give a subscription. In the end they succeeded in increasing the total amount to nineteen and ninepence, and they then put three halfpence each to make it up to a pound.
The Newmans lived in a small house the rent of which was six shillings per week and taxes. It stood at the end of a dark and narrow passage between two shops, surrounded by the high walls of the back parts of larger buildings, chiefly business premises and offices. It was like living in a kind of well, for the air could not circulate and the rays of the sun never reached it. In the summer the atmosphere was close and foul with the various odours which came from the back yards of the adjoining buildings, and in the winter it was dark and damp and gloomy, a culture ground for bacteria and microbes.
The front door opened into the living room, or rather kitchen, which was dimly lighted by a small paraffin lamp on the table, where were also some tea cups and saucers, each of a different pattern, and the remains of a loaf of bread. The wall-paper was old and discoloured. A few almanacs and unframed prints were fixed to the walls, and on the mantelshelf were some cracked and worthless vases and ornaments. At one time they had possessed a clock and an overmantel and some framed pictures, but they had all been sold to obtain money to buy food. Furniture, pictures, bedclothes, carpet and oilcloth, piece by piece, nearly everything that had once constituted the home, had been either pawned or sold to buy food or to pay rent during the times when Newman was out of work. Now there was nothing left but these few old broken chairs and the deal table which no one would buy; and upstairs, the wretched bedsteads and mattresses whereon they slept at night, covering themselves with worn-out remnants of blankets and the clothes they wore during the day.
In answer to Philpot's knock the door was opened by a little girl about seven years old. She recognised Philpot at once, and called out his name to her mother, who came to the door closely followed by two other children, a little, fragile looking girl about three, and a boy about five years of age,
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