Day before yesterday I visited Trow-bridge, one of the West of England's greatest manufacturing towns. Here the make up wonderful fabrics in wool. went over one of the largest woollen mills there, carried on by the "'Salters," a name which is a trade mark, for no "Salter," now lives, but'the family is represented by its branches, the Walkers, etc, Over four hundred hands are employed, these being mostly women. I saw the wool, from the time it was shorn from the sheep, until cleansed and sorted it began to work itself into thread of soft fluffiness, for the manufacture of wonderful cloths. for garments for ladies as well as gentlemen. The operatives are well and kindly treated at '*Salters." Mr. Robert Sherard, who eloquently voiced the wrongs of the humbler of England's workers with his facile pon, had no occasion to exploit journalisticall; the wrongs of these particular mil workers. True, even the best of them earn a small sum per week. But their expenses are light. One woman, a valued worker, twenty-five years in the firm, earn at most ten ings a'week. She has a fine, rather aristocratic face, and her hands are dainty, and sensitive, in the manipulation of the strands of wool in the huge carding machine. As she plodded on I was impressed by her curious, self-conscious dignity. She seemed to say to mo "See, I am part of life's great machinery. I help to make the material to keep you warm, and I am proud of it, and hope the hum of the he ed carries all the sentiment of the wool to your heart from your brain."
A bit of geranium was twisted at her belt, and she smiled as we passed her by. However, I learned that she is bringing up her children to domestic service. Perhaps, the engines do not tell to their ears any sentiment, save that a few shillings a week, and"six o'clock in the morning to begin work, are hard monotonous lines. But to me; a visitor, the experience seemed 'a veritable Trowbridge treat, and I came™ away reluctantly, even though I was to begin presently to feast on British Queen strawberries and cream.
Ttie a quaint, old-world town, and I mean to make a second visit.
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.