A PAUPER’S ONE COMPLAINT.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1507, 17 January 1901, Page 65

A PAUPER’S ONE COMPLAINT.

Those who undertake the duties of visiting the poor in our large workhouses often meet with quiet touches of unconscious humour, where humour would be least expected. At the Worcester Workhouse the other day (writes a correspondent of the “Birmingham Post”) one of the Guardians, who takes a more than usually strong interest in the condition of the inmates, was doing the round of the institution. He has a genial manner, which invites confidences on the part of the inmates, and he was, therefore, not at all surmised when one old fellow came up to him in most portentous and confiding fashion, and whispered that he had a complaint to make. “Well, what’s the matter?” asked the visitor. “You’re well clothed, aren’t you?” “Yes, sir,” was the reply, ply, “Well housed?” “Oh, yes, sii< “And well fed?” “Yes, sir, theer ain’t nowt to grumble about tlieer.” “Then wliat is the matter?” was the next question. “Well, sir, it’s just this,” came the reply. “They never gin us a drop of whisky, an’ yer know, sir, I’ve been used to a drop V whisky, an’ I do miss it terrible bad.” So unexpected was this explanation that the visitor could not restrain a. broad smile, but het

could not give the confiding old fellow much comfort. When I heard the story I was reminded of an incident which occurred in my volunteering experiences years ago. At that time discipline was not so strict, andf the relations between officers and rank and file were of a more intimate character. On one occasion the captain came round at dinner, with the usual query, “Any complaints, men?” “Yes, sir,’ 5 replied the wag of the tent, “we’ve only cne pint of beer between six of us.” Ihe amused officer hardly attempted to conceal his laughter as he marched to the next tent.