'Why, yes,' said Mr. Pickwick, who had been musing deeply
for some time. 'Are there any people here who run on errands,
and so forth?'
'Outside, do you mean?' inquired Mr. Roker.
'Yes. I mean who are able to go outside. Not prisoners.'
'Yes, there is,' said Roker. 'There's an unfortunate devil, who
has got a friend on the poor side, that's glad to do anything of
that sort. He's been running odd jobs, and that, for the last two
months. Shall I send him?'
'If you please,' rejoined Mr. Pickwick. 'Stay; no. The poor
side, you say? I should like to see it. I'll go to him myself.'
The poor side of a debtor's prison is, as its name imports, that
in which the most miserable and abject class of debtors are
confined. A prisoner having declared upon the poor side, pays
neither rent nor chummage. His fees, upon entering and leaving
the jail, are reduced in amount, and he becomes entitled to a share
of some small quantities of food: to provide which, a few
charitable persons have, from time to time, left trifling legacies in
their wills. Most of our readers will remember, that, until within a
very few years past, there was a kind of iron cage in the wall of
the Fleet Prison, within which was posted some man of hungry
looks, who, from time to time, rattled a money-box, and
exclaimed in a mournful voice, 'Pray, remember the poor debtors;
pray remember the poor debtors.
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