0399 | Mary Barton | Elizabeth Gaskell

Context:  Sorted out a load of scrap metal from my late father-in-law’s old office while listening to this.

There are some fields near Manchester, well known to the inhabitants as "Green Heys Fields," through which runs a public footpath to a little village about two miles distant.

"Father does not like girls to work in factories," said Mary.

"No, I know he does not; and reason good. They oughtn’t to go at after they’re married, that I’m very clear about. I could reckon up,"—counting with her finger—"ay, nine men, I know, as has been driven to th’ public-house by having wives as worked in factories; good folk, too, as thought there was no harm in putting their little ones out to nurse, and letting their house go all dirty, and their fires all out; and that was a place as was tempting for a husband to stay in, was it? He soon finds out gin-shops, where all is clean and bright, and where th’ fire blazes cheerily, and gives a man a welcome as it were."

Alice, who was standing near for the convenience of hearing, had caught much of this speech, and it was evident the subject had previously been discussed by the women, for she chimed in.

"I wish our Jem could speak a word to th’ Queen, about factory work for married women. Eh! but he comes it strong when once yo get him to speak about it. Wife o’ his’n will never work away fra’ home."

This might give the game away. If you want to see the last line, click [spoiler] "Dear Job Legh!" said Mary, softly and seriously.[/spoiler]