suppose so. The master sees to that; we don't. No,
i don't consider preventing a few deaths from
starvation in the winter, is a sufficient reason for
encouraging vagrancy, and I don't think we
ought to be called upon to do it. Why don't
they have large district wards, or send them to
prison? I don't care what they do, so long as
they keep away from us; for there's neither
credit nor pleasure to be got out of that sort
of work, and it isn't fair to thrust it on the
guardians.

However, there's a better spirit coming in,
and the Poor Law Board is now asking us what
we'd like to give the police a week for having
acted as assistant relieving officers. I call that
respectful and proper. Of course the police
don't like the work, it ain't natural they should;
but, for my part, I think it's no use doing the
thing by halves, and I mean to propose that the
Poor Law Board be told to give the casuals over
to the police altogether before we settle what
shall be paid. And the more I reflect on the
turn things have taken lately, the more reason
I see to be satisfied. That Mr. Ernest Hart,
he's got a nice snubbing from the Shoreditch
board about his cock-and-bull stories of ill-treatment.
He and his precious association dug up
a fine story, told by a pauper, of cruelties
committed in that house, and passed resolutions,
and wrote to the Poor Law Board as bumptious
as you please. Now, if the president had wanted
to be mischievous, he might have given the
Shoreditch people a deal of trouble. The Strand
Union, and Rotherhithe, and Paddington got
prettily called over the coals for things that had
been reported in the same way by this association.
Shoreditch was a much worse case than any of
'em, according to Mr. Hart. But the Poor Law
Board managed it beautifully, and in a way that
was a credit to 'em. They wrote one of their kind
friendly letters to the guardians, and just hinted
that they'd better get up some sort of inquiry
among themselves, and send in an answer at
their convenience. Well, of course the guardians
weren't a-going to cry stinking fish, so they had
one or two of the paupers in and talked it all
over with the master, who was accused wrongfully,
and the Poor Law Board got the answer
it wanted, and then told the troublesome association
that what was complained of took place a
long time ago, and that the Board "could not
be expected" to order any further inquiry, now
that the guardians said it was all right. The
examination by the guardians had been all fair
and aboveboard, mind you. Everything was
gone into, but it was arranged so cleverly that
no independent witnesses were called, so that
the pauper fellow had no chance of making his
insolent assertions good. His "unsupported
testimony," as the clerk wrote, wasn't worth
listening to; so the whole storm in a teacup
concluded with a pitch into Mr. Hart, in print,
about his "fertile imagination."

This is the way these interfering nuisances
should be always treated; and if the Poor Law
Board and the guardians are only true to each
other, they may snap their fingers at them all.
And, mind you, it's for both their interests to
keep quiet. I'm not a spiteful man myself; live
and let live is my motto. BUT IF THERE'S ANY
ATTEMPT MADE TO REDUCE OUR PRIVILEGES,
I'LL DO MY BEST TO EXPOSE THE POOR LAW
BOARD, AND INSIST ON KNOWING WHAT IT DOES
FOR ALL THE MONEY IT COSTS. And I dare
say, when parliament meets, some busybody
will be inquiring what reform's been made.

Mr. Hardy was so very fast at first about his
not taking any holidays, and about the law
being sufficient for its purpose, and the control
over guardians being all right, that the coddlers
thought. they'd got a prize card, and were all
up in the stirrups at once. The association
waited on him, and the newspapers praised
him for promising not to patch up the present
system—which was right enough, for it wants
neither patching nor alteration, as far as I can
see, only they thought he meant he would
rather destroy than patch; and some of the
weak-minded among the guardians were really
frightened. I thought we should have had some
bother, but I wasn't a bit afraid; for we'd
have fought it out, and the Court of Queen's
Bench decided in our favour when we put the
Poor Law Board there before, and would again.
For the beauty of it all is, that when it comes
to quoting acts of parliament two can play at
that game.

There's a rather well-known man, Mr. Chadwick,
has just told the public that when he
and a few friends settled the new Poor Law, they
provided against any such common creatures
as guardians exercising responsible authority in
its administration. But Mr. Chadwick only
holloas because he's out of the wood himself,
and knows as well as I do that there are
other acts of parliament which prevent his
oppressive and, I must say, unconstitutional and
un-English measure being kept. Did he him self ever
venture to thoroughly carry out what he now
says is the law, when he was at the Poor Law
Board; and if he did, how did he succeed? Why,
I can tell my brother-guardians, not at all. The
whole thing is a farce. They can no more put
us down, or interfere with us in reality, than we
can claim their salaries on quarter-day. If we
get to loggerheads, they've more to lose than
we have, and they know that, bless you, as well
as I do. We hold the purse-strings, that's
what gives us the pull; and when we met at St.
James's Hall we contrived to show our teeth a
bit, and not without effect.

Should I like to have a qualified officer of the
Poor Law Board sit at our board once a month
or so to guide us by advice? No, I should not,
and I'll tell you why. He'd be certain to
interfere when he wasn't wanted to, and he'd
encourage the fellows we can easily keep under
now, but who'd become more troublesome than
ever if they was backed up. It's rather
amusing than not, to have a fine circular letter,
and to tell it to lie on the table till we want it.
But if anybody from the Poor Law Board was
to be with us, and to hear our arguments, and
watch our committees, and see who got the