"Hiking" for Work.

Waikato Times, Volume 112, Issue 18797, 19 November 1932, Page 11 (Supplement)

"Hiking " for Work.

PATHETIC;- tense personal narB rative, which appears in the o.xB ford Times, simply signed “Hiker," needs no comment. He writes: —

“Until recently I was employed by a firm near Oxford, but trade in their line was, and still is, so bad that, along with several otticr men, I was ‘laid off’ indefinitely. Realising that there was not a minute to be lost in the search for another job, I set out for the South Coast, carrying a heavy overcoat (the nights might be very cold) and a small suitcase containing clean underwear, shirts, socks and shaving kit —for one Cannot Hope to Get Work looking dirty and unshaven. My shoes were in good repair then—-but I arrived back with them cracked on top and worn through at the soles. “My first stop was Newsbury, where f tried a number of linns, but drew a blank so I pushed on through Winchester, Hornsey, Lyndriurst and Christchurch, to Bournemouth. However, at neither place was there a job to be had. Having spent the night in the New Forest, I set off again to ‘do’ Southampton and Portsmouth, but although I offered to undertake anything, all 1 got was a job of washing two saloon cars at 2s fid each. Five shillings! That meant Bath, Food and Bod. “The next day I felt fine, and set off heading west, and was fortunate enough to get a lift to Weymouth, but there found nothing at all, so started on again to Exeter, Plymouth (where I tried to join the Navy), and down to Truro and Perranporth. Whilst in Cornwall I made 7s Od washing cars, mowing lawns and washing dogs I One, a nasty little mongrel terrier, tried to bite and had to be ‘skelped’—whereupon I was ’fired.’ "From Perran-porth I struck out north, shunning Birmingham, where 'unemployment is rife, but going on to Liverpool and so to Scotland. On the way I Became a Real Tramp, with my little ox-cocoa tin for lea, and doing anything in the way of work, however small. “Everyone said. 'l'm sorry, hut If you earn In leave your name and address, etc.’ Why do they not say outright that there is nothing doing and there, is no likelihood Of anything, instead of raising raise hopes? One m,-m kept mo hanging about for three days, v,lial lime I lived by mending tyres, mowing lawns, marking a I mills lawn, weeding, and washing a car. It's a great life, if you don’t weaken! ‘'Although I was out of work. often without food and always without shelter, I really enjoyed my mcanderings in Scotland —hut never have 1 seen such poverty as in the north. The north of Scotland Is in a

A Moving Human Document,

terrible state: whole families starving, men going about haunting the employment exchanges, looking desperate in their anxiety, little children painfully thin, playing listlessly—all too rarely does one hear laughter. It wrung my heart to see them With No Hope of a Future, while polilicians seem to attempt so littla to alleviate Lhen* sufferings, and all Urn way through Scotland, up the west coast to Thurso and back down the east, I met the same reply when 1 applied for work. “And so on south—but still the same answer. In Aberdeen I got three days’ work In a garage—and had a bed every night—but the man t relieved returned to duty, and I set off for Edinburgh via Perth and Stirling. “On and still on, literally begging for any kind of work, hut finding none at all of any description, getting nervier and hungrier at every, step 1 look, until 1 finally readied London. City of Dreams and Tragedies What had she in store for me, an insignificant tramp? 11‘ one had money, a bed and a rest, and if no money, at least shelter in the crypt of St. Martin-in-the-Fields. “London! How I bate that name! To me it now spells utter loneliness. For a week I haunted traders, garages, the docks —but never the unemployment exchanges, for I had visited one already and saw hundreds of starving and destitute men. That finished me. “Oxonians, if space permitted me, I could paint pictures for you that would bring laughter to your hearts, and others that would make you weep, would wring your very heai't-strings until you cried, ‘How much longer?' "Can you Imagine what it is to feel hungry, having no food for over 48 hours? Of .course you cannot—but If trie ’Varsity were taken away what would you do? What would you landladies who charge £4 4s per week during term (not Including breakages) think of it? The ’Varsity keeps you people of Oxford, and in consequence, whatever the laxes may be, you'll never really want. You are safe—> but think of Hie Thousands of Poor Devils who are ‘hiking’ for work. You are secure—but there arc millions in want and thousands who are literally starving. “What arc the unemployed to do, je vous demandc? We cannot get help; we are too proud to bog. Speaking for myself, I am .73 years of age, have travelled all over the world, have high professional qualifications and excellent testimonials, speak four languages, know my job backwards, but cannot get work. Can you see a way out?”-