I crossed the
Waterloo Bridge to the Surrey side, cut across to Blackfriars Road,
coming out near the Surrey Theatre, and arrived at the Salvation Army
barracks before seven o'clock. This was "the peg." And by "the peg," in
the argot, is meant the place where a free meal may be obtained.
Here was a motley crowd of woebegone wretches who had spent the night in
the rain. Such prodigious misery! and so much of it! Old men, young
men, all manner of men, and boys to boot, and all manner of boys. Some
were drowsing standing up; half a score of them were stretched out on the
stone steps in most painful postures, all of them sound asleep, the skin
of their bodies showing red through the holes, and rents in their rags.
And up and down the street and across the street for a block either way,
each doorstep had from two to three occupants, all asleep, their heads
bent forward on their knees. And, it must be remembered, these are not
hard times in England. Things are going on very much as they ordinarily
do, and times are neither hard nor easy.
And then came the policeman. "Get outa that, you bloomin' swine! Eigh!
eigh! Get out now!" And like swine he drove them from the doorways and
scattered them to the four winds of Surrey.
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