The Workhouse

Children of darkness do not play under the Bluebird sky nor do they feel the sunshine of a summer's morning on little backs and faces.. instead they toil from dawn to dusk in rooms of darkness with dirt floors and grey walls.. barefoot urchins from six to ten hollow eyes that stare at sewing machines where tiny fingers thread and weave garments for rich ladies and gentlemen who buy the cloth of silk.. spun by little folk who had the misfortune to be born paupers..