{"id":24973,"date":"2023-07-28T15:59:23","date_gmt":"2023-07-28T19:59:23","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/?p=24973"},"modified":"2023-07-28T16:04:44","modified_gmt":"2023-07-28T20:04:44","slug":"episode-863-song-of-the-shirt-putting-out-system","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/?p=24973","title":{"rendered":"EPISODE 863 SONG OF THE SHIRT…PUTTING OUT SYSTEM"},"content":{"rendered":"
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Note\u2026.just read the poem\u2026.post script is to long for an email.  Sorry<\/div>\n

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EPISODE 863   “THE SONG OF THE SHIRT\u201d  by THOMS HOOD, 1843 and  THE PUTTING OUR STYTEM<\/p>\n


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alan skeoch<\/div>\n
July 28, 2023<\/div>\n

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‘song of the shirt’ painting by Anna Blunden, FineArte Museum<\/div>\n

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My mother was a seamstress.She supposed our family by her skillful work with needle and thread<\/div>\n
using a treadle sewing machine at first and then electric sewing machines..  She was good at her trade<\/div>\n
\u2026.creative,,fast,.  When Eric and I were small mom, Elsie Freeman Skeoch, made our clothes from <\/div>\n
scraps such as  old overcoats and other heavy and light textiles. .    Life was not easy but she never complained<\/div>\n
even when her husband Arnold \u2018Red\u2019 Skeoch wasted his income on betting slips at racetracks.<\/div>\n

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We never gave mom much credit for her skill when she was alive  We took her for granted<\/div>\n
and she seemed to like it that way.   Our home was not a pit of despair. Quitethe  reverse, our<\/div>\n
lives were full of joy and achievement..  After she died Eric and I wondered how she did it. <\/div>\n
We still do.<\/div>\n

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In 1843, the poet Tjhomas Hood wrote \u2018The Song of the Shirt\u2019 which lamented the fate of<\/div>\n
women who had to support their families in what is called the \u2018putting out system\u2019 of the<\/div>\n
industrial production.<\/div>\n

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More about the putting out system will follow this Episode   First read The Song of the Shirt<\/div>\n
and try to imagine how you could support  family with a needle and thread.  Then, next episode<\/div>\n
I will try to answer that question.<\/div>\n

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alan<\/div>\n

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1<\/span>With fingers weary and worn,<\/p>\n

2<\/span>With eyelids heavy and red,<\/p>\n

3<\/span>A woman sat, in unwomanly rags,<\/p>\n

4<\/span>Plying her needle and thread\u2014<\/p>\n

5<\/span>Stitch! stitch! stitch!<\/p>\n

6<\/span>In poverty, hunger, and dirt,<\/p>\n

7<\/span>And still with a voice of dolorous pitch<\/p>\n

8<\/span>She sang the “Song of the Shirt.”<\/p>\n<\/p>\n

9<\/span>“Work! work! work!<\/p>\n

10<\/span>While the cock is crowing aloof!<\/p>\n

11<\/span>And work\u2014work\u2014work,<\/p>\n

12<\/span>Till the stars shine through the roof!<\/p>\n

13<\/span>It’s O! to be a slave<\/p>\n

14<\/span>Along with the barbarous Turk,<\/p>\n

15<\/span>Where woman has never a soul to save,<\/p>\n

16<\/span>If this is Christian work!<\/p>\n<\/p>\n

17<\/span>“Work\u2014work\u2014work<\/p>\n

18<\/span>Till the brain begins to swim;<\/p>\n

19<\/span>Work\u2014work\u2014work<\/p>\n

20<\/span>Till the eyes are heavy and dim!<\/p>\n

21<\/span>Seam, and gusset, and band,<\/p>\n

22<\/span>Band, and gusset, and seam,<\/p>\n

23<\/span>Till over the buttons I fall asleep,<\/p>\n

24<\/span>And sew them on in a dream!<\/p>\n<\/p>\n

25<\/span>“O, Men, with Sisters dear!<\/p>\n

26<\/span>O, Men! with Mothers and Wives!<\/p>\n

27<\/span>It is not linen you’re wearing out,<\/p>\n

28<\/span>But human creatures’ lives!<\/p>\n

29<\/span>Stitch\u2014stitch\u2014stitch,<\/p>\n

30<\/span>In poverty, hunger, and dirt,<\/p>\n

31<\/span>Sewing at once with a double thread,<\/p>\n

32<\/span>A Shroud as well as a Shirt.<\/p>\n<\/p>\n

33<\/span>“But why do I talk of Death?<\/p>\n

34<\/span>That Phantom of grisly bone,<\/p>\n

35<\/span>I hardly fear its terrible shape,<\/p>\n

36<\/span>It seems so like my own\u2014<\/p>\n

37<\/span>It seems so like my own,<\/p>\n

38<\/span>Because of the fasts I keep;<\/p>\n

39<\/span>Oh! God! that bread should be so dear,<\/p>\n

40<\/span>And flesh and blood so cheap!<\/p>\n<\/p>\n

41<\/span>“Work\u2014work\u2014work!<\/p>\n

42<\/span>My Labour never flags;<\/p>\n

43<\/span>And what are its wages? A bed of straw,<\/p>\n

44<\/span>A crust of bread\u2014and rags.<\/p>\n

45<\/span>That shatter’d roof\u2014and this naked floor\u2014<\/p>\n

46<\/span>A table\u2014a broken chair\u2014<\/p>\n

47<\/span>And a wall so blank, my shadow I thank<\/p>\n

48<\/span>For sometimes falling there!<\/p>\n<\/p>\n

49<\/span>“Work\u2014work\u2014work!<\/p>\n

50<\/span>From weary chime to chime,<\/p>\n

51<\/span>Work\u2014work\u2014work!<\/p>\n

52<\/span>As prisoners work for crime!<\/p>\n

53<\/span>Band, and gusset, and seam,<\/p>\n

54<\/span>Seam, and gusset, and band,<\/p>\n

55<\/span>Till the heart is sick, and the brain benumb’d,<\/p>\n

56<\/span>As well as the weary hand.<\/p>\n<\/p>\n

57<\/span>“Work\u2014work\u2014work,<\/p>\n

58<\/span>In the dull December light,<\/p>\n

59<\/span>And work\u2014work\u2014work,<\/p>\n

60<\/span>When the weather is warm and bright\u2014<\/p>\n

61<\/span>While underneath the eaves<\/p>\n

62<\/span>The brooding swallows cling<\/p>\n

63<\/span>As if to show me their sunny backs<\/p>\n

64<\/span>And twit me with the spring.<\/p>\n<\/p>\n

65<\/span>“O! but to breathe the breath<\/p>\n

66<\/span>Of the cowslip and primrose sweet\u2014<\/p>\n

67<\/span>With the sky above my head,<\/p>\n

68<\/span>And the grass beneath my feet<\/p>\n

69<\/span>For only one short hour<\/p>\n

70<\/span>To feel as I used to feel,<\/p>\n

71<\/span>Before I knew the woes of want<\/p>\n

72<\/span>And the walk that costs a meal!<\/p>\n<\/p>\n

73<\/span>“O! but for one short hour!<\/p>\n

74<\/span>A respite however brief!<\/p>\n

75<\/span>No blessed leisure for Love or Hope,<\/p>\n

76<\/span>But only time for Grief!<\/p>\n

77<\/span>A little weeping would ease my heart,<\/p>\n

78<\/span>But in their briny bed<\/p>\n

79<\/span>My tears must stop, for every drop<\/p>\n

80<\/span>Hinders needle and thread!”<\/p>\n<\/p>\n

81<\/span>With fingers weary and worn,<\/p>\n

82<\/span>With eyelids heavy and red,<\/p>\n

83<\/span>A woman sat in unwomanly rags,<\/p>\n

84<\/span>Plying her needle and thread\u2014<\/p>\n

85<\/span>Stitch! stitch! stitch!<\/p>\n

86<\/span>In poverty, hunger, and dirt,<\/p>\n

87<\/span>And still with a voice of dolorous pitch,\u2014<\/p>\n

88<\/span>Would that its tone could reach the Rich!\u2014<\/p>\n

89<\/span>She sang this “Song of the Shirt!”<\/p>\n

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SONG OF SHIRT painting by Frank Holi<\/div>\n

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The Song of the Shirt<\/a><\/h1>\n
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With fingers weary and worn,
      With eyelids heavy and red,
    A Woman sat, in unwomanly rags,
      Plying her needle and thread\u2014
        Stitch! stitch! stitch!
    In poverty, hunger, and dirt,
    And still with the voice of dolorous pitch
    She sang the “Song of the Shirt!”

    “Work! Work! Work!
  While the cock is crowing aloof!
    And work\u2014work\u2014work,
  Till the stars shine through the roof!
  It’s O! to be a slave
    Along with the barbarous Turk,
  Where woman has never a soul to save
  If this is Christian work!

    “Work\u2014work\u2014work
  Till the brain begins to swim,
    Work\u2014work\u2014work
  Till the eyes are heavy and dim!
  Seam, and gusset, and band,
    Band, and gusset, and seam,
  Till over the buttons I fall asleep,
    And sew them on in a dream!

    “O, Men with Sisters dear!
    O, Men! with Mothers and Wives!
  It is not linen you’re wearing out,
    But human creatures’ lives!
      Stitch\u2014stitch\u2014stitch,
  In poverty, hunger, and dirt,
  Sewing at once, with a double thread,
  A Shroud as well as a Shirt.

    “But why do I talk of Death!
    That Phantom of grisly bone,
  I hardly fear his terrible shape,
    It seems so like my own\u2014
    It seems so like my own,
    Because of the fasts I keep;
  O God! that bread should be so dear,
    And flesh and blood so cheap!

    “Work\u2014work\u2014work!
    My labour never flags;
  And what are its wages? A bed of straw,
    A crust of bread\u2014and rags.
  That shatter’d roof,\u2014and this naked floor\u2014
    A table\u2014a broken chair\u2014
  And a wall so blank, my shadow I thank
    For sometimes falling there!

    “Work\u2014work\u2014work!
  From weary chime to chime,
    Work\u2014work\u2014work\u2014
  As prisoners work for crime!
    Band, and gusset, and seam,
    Seam, and gusset, and band,
  Till the heart is sick, and the brain benumb’d,
    As well as the weary hand.

    “Work\u2014work\u2014work,
  In the dull December light,
    And work\u2014work\u2014work,
  When the weather is warm and bright\u2014
  While underneath the eaves
    The brooding swallows cling,
  As if to show me their sunny backs
    And twit me with the spring.

    “O, but to breathe the breath
  Of the cowslip and primrose sweet!\u2014
    With the sky above my head,
  And the grass beneath my feet;
  For only one short hour
    To feel as I used to feel,
  Before I knew the woes of want
    And the walk that costs a meal!

    “O, but for one short hour!
      A respite however brief!
  No blessed leisure for Love or Hope,
    But only time for Grief!
  A little weeping would ease my heart,
    But in their briny bed
  My tears must stop, for every drop
    Hinders needle and thread!

    “Seam, and gusset, and band,
  Band, and gusset, and seam,
      Work, work, work,
  Like the Engine that works by Steam!
  A mere machine of iron and wood
    That toils for Mammon’s sake\u2014
  Without a brain to ponder and craze
    Or a heart to feel\u2014and break!”

      \u2014With fingers weary and worn,
    With eyelids heavy and red,
  A Woman sat, in unwomanly rags,
    Plying her needle and thread\u2014
      Stitch! stitch! stitch!
    In poverty, hunger, and dirt,
  And still with a voice of dolorous pitch,\u2014
  Would that its tone could reach the Rich!\u2014
  She sang this “Song of the Shirt!”<\/div>\n

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    post script<\/h2>\n

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    Note:  I hesitate ot include this summary of The Song of the Shirt . Why?   Because point has even made.<\/h2>\n
    Read below if you have time.<\/div>\n

    \u201cThe Song of the Shirt\u201d Summary<\/h2>\n
      \n
    • 1<\/span>With fingers weary and worn,<\/span><\/p>\n

      2<\/span>With eyelids heavy and red,<\/span><\/p>\n

      3<\/span>A woman sat, in unwomanly rags,<\/span><\/p>\n

      4<\/span>Plying her needle and thread\u2014<\/span><\/p>\n

      5<\/span>Stitch! stitch! stitch!<\/span><\/p>\n

      6<\/span>In poverty, hunger, and dirt,<\/span><\/p>\n

      7<\/span>And still with a voice of dolorous pitch<\/span><\/p>\n

      8<\/span>She sang the “Song of the Shirt.”<\/span><\/p>\n<\/p>\n

      9<\/span>“Work! work! work!<\/span><\/p>\n

      10<\/span>While the cock is crowing aloof!<\/span><\/p>\n

      11<\/span>And work\u2014work\u2014work,<\/span><\/p>\n

      12<\/span>Till the stars shine through the roof!<\/span><\/p>\n

      13<\/span>It’s O! to be a slave<\/span><\/p>\n

      14<\/span>Along with the barbarous Turk,<\/span><\/p>\n

      15<\/span>Where woman has never a soul to save,<\/span><\/p>\n

      16<\/span>If this is Christian work!<\/span><\/p>\n<\/p>\n

      17<\/span>“Work\u2014work\u2014work<\/span><\/p>\n

      18<\/span>Till the brain begins to swim;<\/span><\/p>\n

      19<\/span>Work\u2014work\u2014work<\/span><\/p>\n

      20<\/span>Till the eyes are heavy and dim!<\/span><\/p>\n

      21<\/span>Seam, and gusset, and band,<\/span><\/p>\n

      22<\/span>Band, and gusset, and seam,<\/span><\/p>\n

      23<\/span>Till over the buttons I fall asleep,<\/span><\/p>\n

      24<\/span>And sew them on in a dream!<\/span><\/p>\n<\/p>\n

      25<\/span>“O, Men, with Sisters dear!<\/span><\/p>\n

      26<\/span>O, Men! with Mothers and Wives!<\/span><\/p>\n

      27<\/span>It is not linen you’re wearing out,<\/span><\/p>\n

      28<\/span>But human creatures’ lives!<\/span><\/p>\n

      29<\/span>Stitch\u2014stitch\u2014stitch,<\/span><\/p>\n

      30<\/span>In poverty, hunger, and dirt,<\/span><\/p>\n

      31<\/span>Sewing at once with a double thread,<\/span><\/p>\n

      32<\/span>A Shroud as well as a Shirt.<\/span><\/p>\n<\/p>\n

      33<\/span>“But why do I talk of Death?<\/span><\/p>\n

      34<\/span>That Phantom of grisly bone,<\/span><\/p>\n

      35<\/span>I hardly fear its terrible shape,<\/span><\/p>\n

      36<\/span>It seems so like my own\u2014<\/span><\/p>\n

      37<\/span>It seems so like my own,<\/span><\/p>\n

      38<\/span>Because of the fasts I keep;<\/span><\/p>\n

      39<\/span>Oh! God! that bread should be so dear,<\/span><\/p>\n

      40<\/span>And flesh and blood so cheap!<\/span><\/p>\n<\/p>\n

      41<\/span>“Work\u2014work\u2014work!<\/span><\/p>\n

      42<\/span>My Labour never flags;<\/span><\/p>\n

      43<\/span>And what are its wages?<\/span> A bed of straw,<\/span><\/p>\n

      44<\/span>A crust of bread\u2014and rags.<\/span><\/p>\n

      45<\/span>That shatter’d roof\u2014and this naked floor\u2014<\/span><\/p>\n

      46<\/span>A table\u2014a broken chair\u2014<\/span><\/p>\n

      47<\/span>And a wall so blank, my shadow I thank<\/span><\/p>\n

      48<\/span>For sometimes falling there!<\/span><\/p>\n<\/p>\n

      49<\/span>“Work\u2014work\u2014work!<\/span><\/p>\n

      50<\/span>From weary chime to chime,<\/span><\/p>\n

      51<\/span>Work\u2014work\u2014work!<\/span><\/p>\n

      52<\/span>As prisoners work for crime!<\/span><\/p>\n

      53<\/span>Band, and gusset, and seam,<\/span><\/p>\n

      54<\/span>Seam, and gusset, and band,<\/span><\/p>\n

      55<\/span>Till the heart is sick, and the brain benumb’d,<\/span><\/p>\n

      56<\/span>As well as the weary hand.<\/span><\/p>\n<\/p>\n

      57<\/span>“Work\u2014work\u2014work,<\/span><\/p>\n

      58<\/span>In the dull December light,<\/span><\/p>\n

      59<\/span>And work\u2014work\u2014work,<\/span><\/p>\n

      60<\/span>When the weather is warm and bright\u2014<\/span><\/p>\n

      61<\/span>While underneath the eaves<\/span><\/p>\n

      62<\/span>The brooding swallows cling<\/span><\/p>\n

      63<\/span>As if to show me their sunny backs<\/span><\/p>\n

      64<\/span>And twit me with the spring.<\/span><\/p>\n<\/p>\n

      65<\/span>“O! but to breathe the breath<\/span><\/p>\n

      66<\/span>Of the cowslip and primrose sweet\u2014<\/span><\/p>\n

      67<\/span>With the sky above my head,<\/span><\/p>\n

      68<\/span>And the grass beneath my feet<\/span><\/p>\n

      69<\/span>For only one short hour<\/span><\/p>\n

      70<\/span>To feel as I used to feel,<\/span><\/p>\n

      71<\/span>Before I knew the woes of want<\/span><\/p>\n

      72<\/span>And the walk that costs a meal!<\/span><\/p>\n<\/p>\n

      73<\/span>“O! but for one short hour!<\/span><\/p>\n

      74<\/span>A respite however brief!<\/span><\/p>\n

      75<\/span>No blessed leisure for Love or Hope,<\/span><\/p>\n

      76<\/span>But only time for Grief!<\/span><\/p>\n

      77<\/span>A little weeping would ease my heart,<\/span><\/p>\n

      78<\/span>But in their briny bed<\/span><\/p>\n

      79<\/span>My tears must stop, for every drop<\/span><\/p>\n

      80<\/span>Hinders needle and thread!”<\/span><\/p>\n<\/p>\n

      81<\/span>With fingers weary and worn,<\/span><\/p>\n

      82<\/span>With eyelids heavy and red,<\/span><\/p>\n

      83<\/span>A woman sat in unwomanly rags,<\/span><\/p>\n

      84<\/span>Plying her needle and thread\u2014<\/span><\/p>\n

      85<\/span>Stitch! stitch! stitch!<\/span><\/p>\n

      86<\/span>In poverty, hunger, and dirt,<\/span><\/p>\n

      87<\/span>And still with a voice of dolorous pitch,\u2014<\/span><\/p>\n

      88<\/span>Would that its tone could reach the Rich!\u2014<\/span><\/p>\n

      89<\/span>She sang this “Song of the Shirt!”<\/span><\/p>\n

        <\/ul>\n

        ” data-highlight-when-focused=”true” data-toggle-drawer=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box; border-top-left-radius: 3px; border-top-right-radius: 3px; border-bottom-right-radius: 3px; border-bottom-left-radius: 0px; padding-bottom: 2em;”><\/p>\n

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        With fingers weary and worn,
        With eyelids heavy and red,
        A woman sat, in unwomanly rags,<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”>A woman with tired, worn-out fingers and drooping, bloodshot eyes, wearing unflattering and tattered clothes,<\/span>Plying her needle and thread\u2014<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”> sat sewing.<\/span>Stitch! stitch! stitch!<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”> She stitched, and stitched!<\/span>In poverty, hunger, and dirt,<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”> She was poor and hungry and dirty,<\/span>And still with a voice of dolorous pitch<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”> and she sang sadly to herself,<\/span>She sang the “Song of the Shirt.”<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”> singing the “Song of the Shirt.”<\/span><\/p>\n

        “Work! work! work!<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”>”I’m always working!<\/span>While the cock is crowing aloof!<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”> When the roosters crow,<\/span>And work\u2014work\u2014work,<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”> I’m working,<\/span>Till the stars shine through the roof!<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”> and I’m still working when night falls.<\/span>It’s O! to be a slave<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”> Oh! I’m a slave,<\/span>Along with the barbarous Turk,<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”> just like the uncivilized Turks.<\/span>Where woman has never a soul to save,
        If this is Christian work!<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”> They might call this ‘Christian’ work, but I don’t even have a soul worth saving.<\/span><\/p>\n

        “Work\u2014work\u2014work<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”>”I’m always working,<\/span>Till the brain begins to swim;<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”> until I can’t think straight,<\/span>Work\u2014work\u2014work
        Till the eyes are heavy and dim!<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”> and I can hardly see anything.<\/span>Seam, and gusset, and band,
        Band, and gusset, and seam,<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”> All I can see are the materials I’m sewing together,<\/span>Till over the buttons I fall asleep,<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”> and when I fall asleep,<\/span>And sew them on in a dream!<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”> I keep on sewing while I dream.<\/span><\/p>\n

        “O, Men, with Sisters dear!
        O, Men! with Mothers and Wives!<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”>”Men, you have sisters, mothers, and wives!<\/span>It is not linen you’re wearing out,
        But human creatures’ lives!
        Stitch\u2014stitch\u2014stitch,<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”> You are wearing us out when you make us stitch together these clothes.<\/span>In poverty, hunger, and dirt,<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”> We are poor, and hungry, and dirty,<\/span>Sewing at once with a double thread,
        A Shroud as well as a Shirt.<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”> sewing our way straight to death.<\/span><\/p>\n

        “But why do I talk of Death?
        That Phantom of grisly bone,
        I hardly fear its terrible shape,
        It seems so like my own\u2014
        It seems so like my own,<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”>”Death doesn’t scare me, though, because I look just like its ghostly, boney form.<\/span>Because of the fasts I keep;<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”> I hardly eat<\/span>Oh! God! that bread should be so dear,<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”>\u2014bread is so hard to come by,<\/span>And flesh and blood so cheap!<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”> and my labor brings in hardly any money.<\/span><\/p>\n

        “Work\u2014work\u2014work!<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”>”I’m always working!<\/span>My Labour never flags;<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”> I can’t stop laboring,<\/span>And what are its wages?<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”> but what do I gain?<\/span> A bed of straw,
        A crust of bread\u2014and rags.<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”> All I have are a straw bed, some crusty bread, and tattered clothes.<\/span>That shatter’d roof\u2014and this naked floor\u2014<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”> My roof is broken, and my floor is bare.<\/span>A table\u2014a broken chair\u2014<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”> I’ve got a table, a broken chair,<\/span>And a wall so blank, my shadow I thank
        For sometimes falling there!<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”>and a wall so bare that I’m grateful when my shadow falls on it.<\/span><\/p>\n

        “Work\u2014work\u2014work!<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”>”I’m always working!<\/span>From weary chime to chime,<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”> The clock chimes wearily,<\/span>Work\u2014work\u2014work!
        As prisoners work for crime!<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”> and I work like prisoners paying for their crimes.<\/span>Band, and gusset, and seam,
        Seam, and gusset, and band,<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”> All I can see are the materials I’m sewing together,<\/span>Till the heart is sick, and the brain benumb’d,
        As well as the weary hand.<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”> and my heart and mind feel as sick and numb as my hand.<\/span><\/p>\n

        “Work\u2014work\u2014work,<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”>”I’m always working,<\/span>In the dull December light,
        And work\u2014work\u2014work,
        When the weather is warm and bright\u2014<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”> throughout the dark winter and into the warm, sunny spring.<\/span>While underneath the eaves
        The brooding swallows cling<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”> Birds hang on the roof<\/span>As if to show me their sunny backs
        And twit me with the spring.<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”> and taunt me with their happy song.<\/span><\/p>\n

        “O! but to breathe the breath
        Of the cowslip and primrose sweet\u2014<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”>”Oh! All I want is to smell sweet flowers<\/span>With the sky above my head,<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”> and feel the sky above me,<\/span>And the grass beneath my feet<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”> the grass under my feet.<\/span>For only one short hour<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”> I just want one hour of that happiness,<\/span>To feel as I used to feel,
        Before I knew the woes of want
        And the walk that costs a meal!<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”> which I used to know before I became poor and had to work so hard for food.<\/span><\/p>\n

        “O! but for one short hour!
        A respite however brief!<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”>”Oh! I only want one hour of rest.<\/span>No blessed leisure for Love or Hope,<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”> I don’t even need to experience pleasure<\/span>But only time for Grief!<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”>\u2014I just want time to cry.<\/span>A little weeping would ease my heart,<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”> To cry would be a relief,<\/span>But in their briny bed
        My tears must stop, for every drop
        Hinders needle and thread!”<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”> but I can’t cry while working because tears will interfere with my work.”<\/span><\/p>\n

        With fingers weary and worn,
        With eyelids heavy and red,
        A woman sat in unwomanly rags,<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”>A woman with tired, worn-out fingers and drooping, bloodshot eyes, wearing unflattering and tattered clothes,<\/span>Plying her needle and thread\u2014<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”> sat sewing.<\/span>Stitch! stitch! stitch!<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”> She stitched, and stitched!<\/span>In poverty, hunger, and dirt,<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”> She was poor and hungry and dirty,<\/span>And still with a voice of dolorous pitch,\u2014<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”> and she sang sadly to herself\u2014<\/span>Would that its tone could reach the Rich!\u2014<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”>if only the rich could hear!\u2014<\/span>She sang this “Song of the Shirt!”<\/p>\n

        ” data-lm-lines=”” style=”box-sizing: border-box;”>this “Song of the Shirt.”<\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/li>\n<\/ul>\n<\/li>\n

      • \n

        \u201cThe Song of the Shirt\u201d Themes<\/h2>\n
          \n
        • 1<\/span>With fingers weary and worn,<\/span><\/p>\n

          2<\/span>With eyelids heavy and red,<\/span><\/p>\n

          3<\/span>A woman sat, in unwomanly rags,<\/span><\/p>\n

          4<\/span>Plying her needle and thread\u2014<\/span><\/p>\n

          5<\/span>Stitch! stitch! stitch!<\/span><\/p>\n

          6<\/span>In poverty, hunger, and dirt,<\/span><\/p>\n

          7<\/span>And still with a voice of dolorous pitch<\/span><\/p>\n

          8<\/span>She sang the “Song of the Shirt.”<\/span><\/p>\n<\/p>\n

          9<\/span>“Work! work! work!<\/span><\/p>\n

          10<\/span>While the cock is crowing aloof!<\/span><\/p>\n

          11<\/span>And work\u2014work\u2014work,<\/span><\/p>\n

          12<\/span>Till the stars shine through the roof!<\/span><\/p>\n

          13<\/span>It’s O! to be a slave<\/span><\/p>\n

          14<\/span>Along with the barbarous Turk,<\/span><\/p>\n

          15<\/span>Where woman has never a soul to save,<\/span><\/p>\n

          16<\/span>If this is Christian work!<\/span><\/p>\n<\/p>\n

          17<\/span>“Work\u2014work\u2014work<\/span><\/p>\n

          18<\/span>Till the brain begins to swim;<\/span><\/p>\n

          19<\/span>Work\u2014work\u2014work<\/span><\/p>\n

          20<\/span>Till the eyes are heavy and dim!<\/span><\/p>\n

          21<\/span>Seam, and gusset, and band,<\/span><\/p>\n

          22<\/span>Band, and gusset, and seam,<\/span><\/p>\n

          23<\/span>Till over the buttons I fall asleep,<\/span><\/p>\n

          24<\/span>And sew them on in a dream!<\/span><\/p>\n<\/p>\n

          25<\/span>“O, Men, with Sisters dear!<\/span><\/p>\n

          26<\/span>O, Men! with Mothers and Wives!<\/span><\/p>\n

          27<\/span>It is not linen you’re wearing out,<\/span><\/p>\n

          28<\/span>But human creatures’ lives!<\/span><\/p>\n

          29<\/span>Stitch\u2014stitch\u2014stitch,<\/span><\/p>\n

          30<\/span>In poverty, hunger, and dirt,<\/span><\/p>\n

          31<\/span>Sewing at once with a double thread,<\/span><\/p>\n

          32<\/span>A Shroud as well as a Shirt.<\/span><\/p>\n<\/p>\n

          33<\/span>“But why do I talk of Death?<\/span><\/p>\n

          34<\/span>That Phantom of grisly bone,<\/span><\/p>\n

          35<\/span>I hardly fear its terrible shape,<\/span><\/p>\n

          36<\/span>It seems so like my own\u2014<\/span><\/p>\n

          37<\/span>It seems so like my own,<\/span><\/p>\n

          38<\/span>Because of the fasts I keep;<\/span><\/p>\n

          39<\/span>Oh! God! that bread should be so dear,<\/span><\/p>\n

          40<\/span>And flesh and blood so cheap!<\/span><\/p>\n<\/p>\n

          41<\/span>“Work\u2014work\u2014work!<\/span><\/p>\n

          42<\/span>My Labour never flags;<\/span><\/p>\n

          43<\/span>And what are its wages? A bed of straw,<\/span><\/p>\n

          44<\/span>A crust of bread\u2014and rags.<\/span><\/p>\n

          45<\/span>That shatter’d roof\u2014and this naked floor\u2014<\/span><\/p>\n

          46<\/span>A table\u2014a broken chair\u2014<\/span><\/p>\n

          47<\/span>And a wall so blank, my shadow I thank<\/span><\/p>\n

          48<\/span>For sometimes falling there!<\/span><\/p>\n<\/p>\n

          49<\/span>“Work\u2014work\u2014work!<\/span><\/p>\n

          50<\/span>From weary chime to chime,<\/span><\/p>\n

          51<\/span>Work\u2014work\u2014work!<\/span><\/p>\n

          52<\/span>As prisoners work for crime!<\/span><\/p>\n

          53<\/span>Band, and gusset, and seam,<\/span><\/p>\n

          54<\/span>Seam, and gusset, and band,<\/span><\/p>\n

          55<\/span>Till the heart is sick, and the brain benumb’d,<\/span><\/p>\n

          56<\/span>As well as the weary hand.<\/span><\/p>\n<\/p>\n

          57<\/span>“Work\u2014work\u2014work,<\/span><\/p>\n

          58<\/span>In the dull December light,<\/span><\/p>\n

          59<\/span>And work\u2014work\u2014work,<\/span><\/p>\n

          60<\/span>When the weather is warm and bright\u2014<\/span><\/p>\n

          61<\/span>While underneath the eaves<\/span><\/p>\n

          62<\/span>The brooding swallows cling<\/span><\/p>\n

          63<\/span>As if to show me their sunny backs<\/span><\/p>\n

          64<\/span>And twit me with the spring.<\/span><\/p>\n<\/p>\n

          65<\/span>“O! but to breathe the breath<\/span><\/p>\n

          66<\/span>Of the cowslip and primrose sweet\u2014<\/span><\/p>\n

          67<\/span>With the sky above my head,<\/span><\/p>\n

          68<\/span>And the grass beneath my feet<\/span><\/p>\n

          69<\/span>For only one short hour<\/span><\/p>\n

          70<\/span>To feel as I used to feel,<\/span><\/p>\n

          71<\/span>Before I knew the woes of want<\/span><\/p>\n

          72<\/span>And the walk that costs a meal!<\/span><\/p>\n<\/p>\n

          73<\/span>“O! but for one short hour!<\/span><\/p>\n

          74<\/span>A respite however brief!<\/span><\/p>\n

          75<\/span>No blessed leisure for Love or Hope,<\/span><\/p>\n

          76<\/span>But only time for Grief!<\/span><\/p>\n

          77<\/span>A little weeping would ease my heart,<\/span><\/p>\n

          78<\/span>But in their briny bed<\/span><\/p>\n

          79<\/span>My tears must stop, for every drop<\/span><\/p>\n

          80<\/span>Hinders needle and thread!”<\/span><\/p>\n<\/p>\n

          81<\/span>With fingers weary and worn,<\/span><\/p>\n

          82<\/span>With eyelids heavy and red,<\/span><\/p>\n

          83<\/span>A woman sat in unwomanly rags,<\/span><\/p>\n

          84<\/span>Plying her needle and thread\u2014<\/span><\/p>\n

          85<\/span>Stitch! stitch! stitch!<\/span><\/p>\n

          86<\/span>In poverty, hunger, and dirt,<\/span><\/p>\n

          87<\/span>And still with a voice of dolorous pitch,\u2014<\/span><\/p>\n

          88<\/span>Would that its tone could reach the Rich!\u2014<\/span><\/p>\n

          89<\/span>She sang this “Song of the Shirt!”<\/span><\/p>\n

            <\/ul>\n

            ” data-highlight-when-focused=”true” data-modal-title=”Theme” data-position=”1″ data-title=”Poverty and Labor in Victorian England” style=”box-sizing: border-box; border-radius: 3px 3px 3px 0px; padding-bottom: 1em;”>
            <\/p>\n

            Poverty and Labor in Victorian England<\/h3>\n
            \n
            \n

            \u201cThe Song of the Shirt\u201d spotlights the experiences of Victorian England\u2019s working poor. The subject of the poem is a seamstress who works ceaselessly in inhumane, even torturous conditions simply to get by. This unending labor fills her with deep despair and hopelessness, even as \u201cthe Rich\u201d remain oblivious to these struggles of the working class. Through the woman\u2019s song, the poem seeks to expose the burdens of poverty and the dehumanizing labor conditions faced by poor workers in 19th-century England.<\/p>\n

            The seamstress\u2019s song emphasizes the repetitive, monotonous, and utterly exhausting nature of her labor. She complains that she works from morning, when the rooster crows, to night, when the stars shine, and that all day she can’t take even “one short hour” of rest. She doesn’t even have time to cry, she sings, because crying will slow her work. Ultimately, the seamstress works so long that she falls asleep over the buttons she sews, only to then keep on working \u201cin a dream.\u201d<\/p>\n

            All this work takes an immense physical and mental toll on the seamstress. Her fingers are \u201cweary and worn\u201d while her \u201ceyelids [are] heavy and red.\u201d She feels like the \u201cbrooding swallows\u201d outside taunt her, singing that they \u201ctwit me with the spring\u201d\u2014mocking her while she\u2019s trapped inside her \u201cblank\u201d and unpleasant room. Her heart and mind, meanwhile, have grown \u201csick\u201d and numb. Working to survive is, ironically, draining the seamstress of her very life: she says that she\u2019s \u201cSewing at once, with a double thread, \/ A Shroud as well as a Shirt\u201d\u2014in other words, preparing for her own funeral\u2014and beginning to look like the \u201cterrible shape\u201d of death itself.<\/p>\n

            The seamstress’s misery, the poem implies, is the product of a society that values human life less than material goods\u2014that treats \u201cflesh and blood\u201d as \u201ccheap.\u201d Those who buy her clothes pay no heed to the fact that it\u2019s \u201cnot linen\u201d they\u2019re \u201cwearing out\u201d but rather \u201chuman creatures\u2019 lives\u201d\u2014in other words, they don\u2019t know or care that they\u2019re benefitting from the torturous, endless labor of people in poverty. The seamstress even compares herself to a \u201cslave,\u201d indicating that she feels like society treats her as sub-human. Instead, she is a \u201ccreature\u201d or a \u201cprisoner\u201d without \u201ca soul to save.\u201d<\/p>\n

            By recording the seamstress\u2019s song, the speaker of \u201cThe Song of the Shirt\u201d thus exposes how miserable, dirty, and inhumane life can be for the working poor. Writing at the end, \u201cWould that its tone could reach the Rich,\u201d the speaker suggests that if others only listened to and cared about the seamstress, they might realize that people like her need\u2014and indeed deserve\u2014relief from the torments of poverty.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/li>\n

          • 1<\/span>With fingers weary and worn,<\/p>\n

            2<\/span>With eyelids heavy and red,<\/p>\n

            3<\/span>A woman sat, in unwomanly rags,<\/span><\/p>\n

            4<\/span>Plying her needle and thread\u2014<\/span><\/p>\n

            5<\/span>Stitch! stitch! stitch!<\/span><\/p>\n

            6<\/span>In poverty, hunger, and dirt,<\/p>\n

            7<\/span>And still with a voice of dolorous pitch<\/p>\n

            8<\/span>She sang the “Song of the Shirt.”<\/p>\n<\/p>\n

            9<\/span>“Work! work! work!<\/p>\n

            10<\/span>While the cock is crowing aloof!<\/p>\n

            11<\/span>And work\u2014work\u2014work,<\/p>\n

            12<\/span>Till the stars shine through the roof!<\/p>\n

            13<\/span>It’s O! to be a slave<\/p>\n

            14<\/span>Along with the barbarous Turk,<\/p>\n

            15<\/span>Where woman has never a soul to save,<\/p>\n

            16<\/span>If this is Christian work!<\/p>\n<\/p>\n

            17<\/span>“Work\u2014work\u2014work<\/p>\n

            18<\/span>Till the brain begins to swim;<\/p>\n

            19<\/span>Work\u2014work\u2014work<\/p>\n

            20<\/span>Till the eyes are heavy and dim!<\/p>\n

            21<\/span>Seam, and gusset, and band,<\/span><\/p>\n

            22<\/span>Band, and gusset, and seam,<\/span><\/p>\n

            23<\/span>Till over the buttons I fall asleep,<\/p>\n

            24<\/span>And sew them on in a dream!<\/p>\n<\/p>\n

            25<\/span>“O, Men, with Sisters dear!<\/span><\/p>\n

            26<\/span>O, Men! with Mothers and Wives!<\/span><\/p>\n

            27<\/span>It is not linen you’re wearing out,<\/span><\/p>\n

            28<\/span>But human creatures’ lives!<\/span><\/p>\n

            29<\/span>Stitch\u2014stitch\u2014stitch,<\/p>\n

            30<\/span>In poverty, hunger, and dirt,<\/p>\n

            31<\/span>Sewing at once with a double thread,<\/p>\n

            32<\/span>A Shroud as well as a Shirt.<\/p>\n<\/p>\n

            33<\/span>“But why do I talk of Death?<\/p>\n

            34<\/span>That Phantom of grisly bone,<\/span><\/p>\n

            35<\/span>I hardly fear its terrible shape,<\/span><\/p>\n

            36<\/span>It seems so like my own\u2014<\/span><\/p>\n

            37<\/span>It seems so like my own,<\/span><\/p>\n

            38<\/span>Because of the fasts I keep;<\/span><\/p>\n

            39<\/span>Oh! God! that bread should be so dear,<\/p>\n

            40<\/span>And flesh and blood so cheap!<\/p>\n<\/p>\n

            41<\/span>“Work\u2014work\u2014work!<\/p>\n

            42<\/span>My Labour never flags;<\/p>\n

            43<\/span>And what are its wages? A bed of straw,<\/p>\n

            44<\/span>A crust of bread\u2014and rags.<\/p>\n

            45<\/span>That shatter’d roof\u2014and this naked floor\u2014<\/p>\n

            46<\/span>A table\u2014a broken chair\u2014<\/p>\n

            47<\/span>And a wall so blank, my shadow I thank<\/p>\n

            48<\/span>For sometimes falling there!<\/p>\n<\/p>\n

            49<\/span>“Work\u2014work\u2014work!<\/p>\n

            50<\/span>From weary chime to chime,<\/p>\n

            51<\/span>Work\u2014work\u2014work!<\/p>\n

            52<\/span>As prisoners work for crime!<\/p>\n

            53<\/span>Band, and gusset, and seam,<\/p>\n

            54<\/span>Seam, and gusset, and band,<\/p>\n

            55<\/span>Till the heart is sick, and the brain benumb’d,<\/p>\n

            56<\/span>As well as the weary hand.<\/p>\n<\/p>\n

            57<\/span>“Work\u2014work\u2014work,<\/p>\n

            58<\/span>In the dull December light,<\/p>\n

            59<\/span>And work\u2014work\u2014work,<\/p>\n

            60<\/span>When the weather is warm and bright\u2014<\/p>\n

            61<\/span>While underneath the eaves<\/p>\n

            62<\/span>The brooding swallows cling<\/p>\n

            63<\/span>As if to show me their sunny backs<\/p>\n

            64<\/span>And twit me with the spring.<\/p>\n<\/p>\n

            65<\/span>“O! but to breathe the breath<\/p>\n

            66<\/span>Of the cowslip and primrose sweet\u2014<\/p>\n

            67<\/span>With the sky above my head,<\/p>\n

            68<\/span>And the grass beneath my feet<\/p>\n

            69<\/span>For only one short hour<\/p>\n

            70<\/span>To feel as I used to feel,<\/p>\n

            71<\/span>Before I knew the woes of want<\/p>\n

            72<\/span>And the walk that costs a meal!<\/p>\n<\/p>\n

            73<\/span>“O! but for one short hour!<\/p>\n

            74<\/span>A respite however brief!<\/p>\n

            75<\/span>No blessed leisure for Love or Hope,<\/p>\n

            76<\/span>But only time for Grief!<\/p>\n

            77<\/span>A little weeping would ease my heart,<\/p>\n

            78<\/span>But in their briny bed<\/p>\n

            79<\/span>My tears must stop, for every drop<\/p>\n

            80<\/span>Hinders needle and thread!”<\/p>\n<\/p>\n

            81<\/span>With fingers weary and worn,<\/p>\n

            82<\/span>With eyelids heavy and red,<\/p>\n

            83<\/span>A woman sat in unwomanly rags,<\/span><\/p>\n

            84<\/span>Plying her needle and thread\u2014<\/span><\/p>\n

            85<\/span>Stitch! stitch! stitch!<\/span><\/p>\n

            86<\/span>In poverty, hunger, and dirt,<\/p>\n

            87<\/span>And still with a voice of dolorous pitch,\u2014<\/p>\n

            88<\/span>Would that its tone could reach the Rich!\u2014<\/p>\n

            89<\/span>She sang this “Song of the Shirt!”<\/p>\n

              <\/ul>\n

              ” data-highlight-when-focused=”true” data-modal-title=”Theme” data-position=”2″ data-title=”Gender Inequality in Victorian England” style=”box-sizing: border-box; border-radius: 3px 3px 3px 0px; padding-bottom: 2em;”>
              <\/p>\n

              Gender Inequality in Victorian England<\/h3>\n
              \n
              \n

              The poor seamstress at the heart of \u201cThe Song of the Shirt\u201d believes that her life is all the more difficult because she is a woman struggling to provide for herself in a society that devalues women’s labor. While the poem predominantly focuses on the burdens of poverty in general, Hood also suggests that those burdens are distributed unequally; Victorian society placed a premium on traditional femininity (especially physical beauty, grace, and obedience) and granted women fewer opportunities to become independent or self-sufficient\u2014making it all the more difficult for those women who had to work to support themselves and their families.<\/p>\n

              The subject of the poem toils over the kind of work (sewing clothing by hand) that many poverty-stricken women had to perform to survive in the 19th century. Hood in fact wrote the poem in honor of a widow named Mrs. Biddell, who sewed clothes and pawned the clothing she made in order to feed her starving children. The seamstress in the poem likewise constantly works her \u201cneedle and thread,\u201d obsessing over \u201cseam, and gusset, and band,\u201d because this is the only way she can support herself. The seamstress doesn\u2019t mention if she has children, but she does blame men for burdening her and other women with this tedious work, crying, \u201cO, men, with sisters dear! \/ O, men, with mothers and wives!\u201d She suggests that while women must work to feed their families, men often don\u2019t realize\u2014or care\u2014how much their wives and sisters suffer as a result of these burdens.<\/p>\n

              Because she works so hard, slaving over needle and thread, the seamstress seems to lose what makes her a woman. In the first and last stanzas, the speaker describes the seamstress as a \u201cwoman\u201d in \u201cunwomanly rags.\u201d The seamstress obviously can\u2019t take care of her physical appearance: she can hardly feed herself, let alone try to look \u201cwomanly.\u201d The seamstress also complains that her work makes her feel like less than a woman\u2014indeed, less than a human being. She claims that \u201chuman creatures\u2019 lives\u201d get worn out by these horrible, impoverished conditions. Lack of food and rest make the seamstress look like death itself, a \u201cphantom of grisly bone.\u201d Evidently, the physical toll of the seamstress\u2019s work is almost more than she can endure.<\/p>\n

              Ultimately, \u201cThe Song of the Shirt\u201d demonstrates that very poor women must bear such extreme burdens that they cease to really be women at all (in a Victorian sense of the word, that is), becoming instead \u201cbenumbed\u201d and \u201cweary\u201d slaves.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/li>\n<\/ul>\n<\/li>\n<\/ul>\n


              <\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

              Note\u2026.just read the poem\u2026.post script is to long for an email.  Sorry EPISODE 863   “THE SONG OF THE SHIRT\u201d  by THOMS HOOD, 1843 and  THE PUTTING OUR STYTEM alan skeoch July 28, 2023 ‘song of the shirt’ painting by Anna Blunden, FineArte Museum My mother was a seamstress.She supposed our family by her skillful […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-24973","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24973","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=24973"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24973\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=24973"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=24973"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/alanskeoch.ca\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=24973"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}