Victorian jobs • Page 6
The colossal expansion of the empire has made the high seas a veritable conveyor belt of goods from all over the world. The bustling docks need porters to load and unload cargoes from the tall ships.
With no regard for health and safety issues, you will be required to heft heavy weights, ranging from sugar bales to lengths of timber, from the deep hulls of the vessels and take them to storage in the bonded warehouses and stock rooms of the port. This is a tough environment where no quarter is expected or given. You'll have to fight your corner and keep an eye out for those trying to muscle in on your pitch.
Having your own string will be a good idea, as tying up the trouser legs below the knees will stop the ships' rats from running up your legs. A few pennies await those who can shoulder their way on to the workforce. Only the fittest and strongest need apply.
Get down and dirty with a fascinating career in coprolite collection. Dog and cat shit takes various forms, from stumpy little nuggets to sludgy piles with grass in, and as for the white ones – what ever happened to those? But if you know your quality faeces from your average dump, apply immediately.
This role involves travelling the streets of London, most probably mainly on your hands and knees, sniffing out those stinky critters. Of course, there will be no protective gear, and the pooper scooper hasn't been invented yet, so you'll be bare-handing the pooch poo straight into your pockets and knapsack.
Once you've collected a good load, you can guarantee that a path will automatically clear before you, all the way to the tanners. There they will pay you a princely sum for the plops to add to the stinking urine they already have in their sweet tanning sumps.
You'll be doing your bit to keep the shoes of Londoners clean and preserve the leather of the nation. Now wash your hands.
Imagine this: London has well over 100,000 horses clacking up the streets every day and night, and each one has a good fibrous diet. That's a lot of horses' bums and a mountain of poo. Your job is to shovel up the muck off the streets and sweep the surface to keep crossing places nice and clean. Then if a posh lady wants to cross, she needn't worry about her frock.
At least you'll be higher up the chain than the poor pure collector (see above). Yes, where there's muck, there's brass, and whatever sorry type of faeces you decide to make a career of, London is going to be full of it. So get a peg on your nose, roll up those sleeves and get bare-handling those nuggets because every bit of muck off the street is worth copper in your pocket.
Calling all Italian job seekers. As hardly any British nationals are willing to take up positions on road gangs, the task has fallen to the latest immigrants of Italian extraction.
The growth in traffic has caused great concern among road users as the cobbles that surface the roads are slippery, bumpy and quite unsuitable for modern wheeled vehicles. The amazing compound of natural asphalt, found in most crude petroleums and first used on roads by our French cousins in 1824, provides a tough yet smooth road surface ideal for any perambulating vehicle.
Unfortunately asphalt needs to be heated to over 320°F (160°C) before it can be applied, and this makes the job a smelly and sticky affair. After the asphalt is poured on to the cobbles, it needs to be 'pounded' – the most unpleasant part of the job. For this, we are in dire need of bare Italian feet to trudge along pounding the hot stuff into the ground.
