James Greenwood

Biographical details

James Greenwood,  Low-Life Deeps — Chapter 13: The Ice Harvest (1881)

“ Still, all the dull day, all the bleak night, one crop is growing, out of which poor men make their bread, and pile fire in the grate, and comfort their little children. A crop as important in its way as many a one grown and sown under the genial influence of soft rain and summer sunshine; a harvest, the fruit of which in the season of its consumption is regarded as a blessing, as a healthful luxury, and as grateful to the palate as rich ripe wine or strawberries newly plucked. It is the ice harvest. ”
Source: Wikisource

James Greenwood,  Low-Life Deeps — Chapter 17: A Night with "Old Tom" (1881)

“ It is as useless endeavouring to arrive at the desired end by the old means, as it is to spur a dead horse. He has cut himself adrift from all those ties by which mankind in general secure that happiness, and trusted to a gin-cask to keep him afloat on his sea of selfish and sensual enjoyment until life's voyage comes to an end, and all suddenly, he discovers that the sea is dead and stagnant on which his raft, rotten and rudderless, must abide, until by natural decay it falls to pieces and is engulfed with himself in the black depths. ”
Source: Wikisource

James Greenwood,  Low-Life Deeps — Chapter 1: In the Potteries (1881)

“ Tykes of all ages, sizes, and complexions sprawl over the pavements, and lounge at the thresholds of doors, and sit at the windows, quite at their ease, with their heads reposing on the window-sill, hob-and-nob with their biped "pal," who cuddles his four-footed friend lovingly round the neck with one arm, while his as yet unwashed mining face, black and white in patches as the dog's is, beams with that satisfaction which content and pleasant companionship alone can give. ”
Source: Wikisource

Get perspective with Kwize: daily news enlightened by great literature