There were a few books on a shelf, and a concertina upon a little table in the corner.

When we entered, the old collier was busy with the slate and pencil, and an arithmetic before him; but he laid them aside, and, doffing his spectacles, began to talk with us.

He said that they were a family of six, and all out of work; but he said that, ever since he lost his leg, the proprietors of the pit in which the accident happened (Wright's) had allowed him a pension of six shillings a week, which he considered very handsome.

This allowance just kept the wolf from their little door in these hard times.

In the course of our conversation I found that the old man read the papers frequently, and that he was a man of more than common information in his class.
I should have been glad to stay longer with him, but my time was up; so I came away from the town, thus ending my last ramble amongst the unemployed operatives of Wigan.