A letter from the planking shop, by Samuel Ogden

An original letter written in a nineteenth-century voice; a period simulation, not an archival document.

In this letter, written in 1868, a fifteen-year-old apprentice writes to his mother about his first month at a hat factory in a northern manufacturing town.

Vale Street, Sunday

Dear Mother,

I have now been a month at Openshaw’s and am still in the planking shop, where all the new lads begin. It is a long low room so full of steam that I cannot see the far wall, and the men work in their shirt sleeves with their arms reddened to the elbow. My wage is four shillings a week, of which I pay three to Mrs Tattersall for my bed and supper, so you need not send me any more stockings, for I can very nearly buy my own.

My work is to fetch the cones of rabbit fur from the blowing room and to keep the kettles of water on the boil. The men dip each cone and roll it upon a sloping board with their bare hands until it shrinks to half its size and becomes firm felt. Jem Royle, who has the board next to the door, let me try one on Friday. I scalded my fingers and the felt came out as lumpy as porridge, and the whole shop laughed.

Old Mr Crossley, who has been forty years at the trade, says I shall make a planker in two years if I stop dropping things. He can tell a good hat by shutting his eyes and passing his thumb once round the brim. I mean to be able to do the same.

Your loving son,

Samuel

(a) How much is Samuel’s wage? (b) What happened when Samuel tried to roll a cone himself? (c) What does the final sentence of the letter suggest about Samuel?