| Title | The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists |
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| Page | 453 |
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| Chapter | -- |
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| Text |
her, and burying her face in her hands. It was a very large face, but her hands were capacious enough to receive it. In a seat at the back of the hall knelt a pale-faced, weary-looking little woman about thirty-six years of age, very shabbily dressed, who had come in during the singing. This was Mrs White, the caretaker, Bert White's mother. When her husband died, the committee of the Chapel, out of charity, gave her this work, for which they paid her six shillings a week. Of course, they could not offer her full employment; the idea was that she could get other work as well, charing and things of that kind, and do the Chapel work in between. There wasn't much to do: just the heating furnace to light when necessary; the Chapel, committee rooms, classrooms and Sunday School to sweep and scrub out occasionally; the hymn-books to collect, etc. Whenever they had a tea meeting - which was on an average about twice a week - there were the trestle tables to fix up, the chairs to |
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