My Story....

My name is Billiam Hopkins, and I was recently laid off from my job as a farm hand. I aspire to find my fortune in Manchester as I've heard so much about the wealth in the growing cities. I used think that my life was great, being a farm and all. I would wake up to the smell of wet earth and fresh crops. Now I look forward to a life in the comforts of a state-of-the-art factories. I boarded with the family that hired me, and slept in their attic. The nights grew cold, so now I look forward to a hot factory where I will pass my days and nights. I've received word that some factories work their laborers hard, but I plan to take a job in a textile factory, for manufacturing garments seems far better than railroad work. Being 24 years of age I am looking for a woman with whom I may live the remainder of my life. I've heard that the husbandless women of Manchester are abundant throughout the city. The only thing I fear is that I won't be able to fit in with those city folk. They have paved streets and skyscrapers up to ten stories tall. The whole sight of those buildings will surely astound me. And since I can't compete with that newfangled reaper, I'm a little concerned that I won't be able to keep up with those swift factory workers. Those other farmhands back in the country told stories of those city chaps - how their hands can move faster than the eye can see! I'm also concerned for my sickly parents back home. They rely on me to send them lump sums of money every year. My sister ran off with some rich French man, and my brother can't walk a straight line even if it would earn him some whiskey. Times were simpler not to long ago. When a man could earn an honest wage, without worrying about some scientists building a machine to replace him. My parents had we work every farm job imaginable, and if it weren't for the lack of work in the country, I would've gladly worked there until my dying day. I've heard that there are even steam machines that get people from one place to another. Why on earth would a man rely on a machine to get them where their legs might just as well take them. But after all of this, if I have a roof over my head and some bread on my plate, then I'll survive.