
Some of them were patently ineducable, others would never get further than adding the simplest of
numbers and writing their own names, but there were exceptions, like Jude and June, half-caste brother
and sister who held the glimmerings of something better. These two now presented me with "The Cat sat
on the Mat" and "The Cat in the Hat" respectively. Next term I would recommend them to Miss
Hardcastle's Middle Class, who were now monotonously reciting their seven times table.
Having all three classes in the same room was difficult at the best of times, but usually two were either
writing or listening so we teachers didn't have the added strain of shouting above each other.
Of course there were always more girls than boys. As soon as they were old enough the latter were out
on the streets for their parents, thieving, running errands or, if they were lucky, 'prenticed out to coal
merchants, chimney sweeps, dockers, lightermen or costers. The girls, if they were presentable, usually
ended up on the streets at puberty or helping out in laundries or cookshops. We did have some
successes: some of the children had been properly placed, boys to printing presses and the retail trade,
even one to the Christian Church; the girls out as milliners, seamstresses, nursery governesses or placed
in respectable households. But these alas, were few and far between.
I had been here in London for three years now. My parents had died within a week of each other of a
low fever while I was still at boarding school. We had never been well-off—it was said my mother had
married beneath her to a humble watch-maker and repairer—but they hadn't stinted on my education,
more than they could have afforded; but once all debts had been paid and most of the furniture sold from
our rented cottage, I found all I had was enough to keep myself for six months, a few sticks of furniture
and fond memories of a pretty, merry mother who was a hopeless housewife, and a gentle, retiring father
who waited for work rather than seeking it out.
So, Miss Sophronisbe Lee would have to find a situation, fast, but for an unattached girl of nineteen with
no special skills and only the recommendation of her headmistress to back her applications it wasn't easy.
At first I was picky, answering only those advertisements that appealed to me, but as time passed I grew
more desperate as most of my applications were either unanswered or were curt rejections, the general
consensus being that I was both too young and too inexperienced.
So I no longer applied to those advertisements for a "genteel children's governess," or "Lady F. requires
experienced ladies-maid," rather was I driven to replying to seekers of companions for the elderly, or
housekeeper in a "large and boisterous household." These came to nothing as well, if you discount an
interview I actually undertook with hope concerning a "disabled gentleman" requiring a young lady for
reading aloud, writing letters and other "light duties." Unfortunately he was not too disabled to chase me
all over his study and he made it very clear what the "light duties" would entail. . . .
This went on for nearly three months until I had almost decided to apply for a straightforward domestic
post, when I had an unexpected bonus. One of our neighbours had paid a visit to an aunt in London, and
brought back a morning paper which contained ten suitable posts. Although the paper was a few days
old I answered all the advertisements eagerly, then sat back and waited. And waited.
Of the ten, four never answered, and I had five replies turning me down, but the last letter was different.
This was from the headmistress of a Charity School offering a teaching post. "Young person, male or
female, to teach class of five- to eight-year-olds in poor district. Wages: twenty-six pounds per year.
Some food supplied. Only serious and dedicated applicants need apply." Her advertisement had been
last on my list because of the low wage, but somehow the tone of the letter I received fired me with an
uncharacteristic enthusiasm.
"I note that your qualifications are more than adequate for our Junior Class, but you must realise