# data[].attributes.body
The Train was tearing down the track, faster than any horse; and much more menacing. The blood-curdling tune it plays throughout the rumbling, and chugging of its core; and honking of its horn. This Monster of metal is far from the horses our protagonist's father just installed to plow the fields. But on the matter of our “Main Character,” well… At this moment our protagonist's face had gone a funny shade of green. A plump old-fellow, seeing the troubling state Mary was in, looked up at her; in his breeches, blue waistcoat, and brown long coat, “Hello, It is a pleasure to meet you; My name is Charles Carmichael, and you are Mary-Ann.” Bewildered by the fact he knew her name, she found herself no longer sick in the stomach; in fact, no that she thought about, with his warm expression, brown long coat, and styled shaggy brown beard, he rather reminded her of a very fat honey bear. While she did not dare say it to his face, and thought that it would be wisest to stay away from mysterious chump; and now she had gotten over her sickness, she was rather excited to watch the countryside fly by.

# data[].attributes.body
Dear parents,

I hope all is well with you and the farm. I hope everything functions well without me. While I miss being with you on the farm, I must admit I quite enjoy it here. Coming to work out here has felt like an adventure, as I’ve been able to see so many new things and meet so many new wonderful people.

# data[].attributes.body
Life at the mills is very different than at home. Everything here is much more modern, including the boarding houses. The woman who takes care of me is very kind to everyone. Her job must be very difficult taking care of so many kids, there are almost 40 of us in one tiny house!

# data[].attributes.body
It’s been a long day here in the mill, it’s so much different from the farm, which was as isolated as a ship in the middle of the Atlantic. I definitely will need time to get used to all of these changes. For instance why in heaven’s name are the working conditions so bad, the other loom workers and I have to risk losing a limb in those dastardly looms every single day.

# data[].attributes.body
It has officially been one month since my arrival. It has taken a while but I think I am getting used to living in a city. Everything here is so tall and there are so many smells. Some of the other girls in my dorm lived in cities before they came to work here. They say that once spring comes and the trees grow leaves it will be much prettier.

# data[].attributes.body
Dear Phebes (my little sister), I’ve only been here for two days and I already love it. I got here in that little carriage I got picked up in, but it wasn’t very exciting, but the weather has been lovely since the moment I got here. Everything is so different here. For starters, the factory is huge, with maybe 200 mills per floor. It’s very exciting to get to work in the mills, but also tiring and sometimes scary. It’s so loud in there that the girls who have been there awhile can’t hear well anymore, and my friend Marie got some of her hair ripped out from one of the machines. It’s no worse than working on the farm, but some of the girls say it’s way more dangerous.

# data[].attributes.body
I was assigned a boarding house and given a room to share with three other girls. We must sleep two to a bed. My quarters are small and cramped and the furniture provides little comfort. The plates we eat off of are very intricate china, though some are mismatched. My meals are hearty and provide an abundance of nutrition for the long, exhausting hours ahead spent hunched over the looms.

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As I entered the small doors of the building, I was greeted by a warm hallway light and a silent house. I have never seen a house so lavishly furnished! The walls were slathered in rolls of paper with a flower print, and the honey colored wood of the floors was really very clean. There were even more rooms than your house and mine put together could hold. It was not extraordinary- it was a little lonely and foreign to me, and all the curtains were drawn, but it certainly was nice.

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They usually serve us coffee and milk with our meals which taste incredible. When breakfast time was up there was a loud bell that would ring signaling us to go to our designated job. Us girls would work for about four hours then the loud bell would ring telling us to go to dinner. We ate for about 20 to 30 minutes. And we would go to work after all that eating.

# data[].attributes.body
Today marks me being here for a month. I miss you dreadfully and wish very much that you would come visit. I hope all is well at home and with Grandmum who I heard wasn’t feeling her best. Please give her all my kisses and tell her that I miss spending our Sunday evenings together. I loved hearing in your latest letter that you and Father had been making some new friends. I was delighted, as I know that has been hard for the both of you, ever since John died.

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The looms were big wooden mechanisms with lots of moving parts that if you did one wrong move you would get caught up in. They were set up in these neat rows and each of us would work one of them. We would replace strings if they needed replacing, oil the machines and basically keep them running.

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Lowell is huge, there are towering brick buildings that could fit three of our barns inside. Our boarding house is one of them. It is quite nice, I room with three other girls but I only have to share a bed with one. We have a very strict sleep schedule, curfew is at 22:00  and we wake at 4:00. The meals are taken in the common room with all 40 of us girls together. They are very filling and we get to dine on the mill’s beautiful fine china. For breakfast today I had fried cod and toast.

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I’ve just finished my first week as a mill girl, it is amazing here. I wake up at 4:30 am and work 12 hours a day 6 days a week. However, I admit that you have to absquatulate to get to the mill on time. They give one bed per two girls and there are two beds per room. The rooms have one desk and a few bins for our stuff but are still pretty small. I work making cotton in the mill room, and it's deafening there but I think that my ears are adjusting. By a few weeks, it won’t sound like anything at all.

# data[].attributes.body
How is Mom? Are her yellow lentils and handmade pita still as delicious? Speaking of food, it is not the same as back home. I’m convinced people here do not know how to season their food. Seriously, a little olive oil or salt couldn’t hurt. Really though, I miss you guys so much and cannot wait to see what you think about the new world.

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I couldn’t sleep, and it was monday of my second week. After the bell finally rung I got out of bed into my work clothes. I could smell the aroma of breakfast being made in the downstairs kitchen. It felt like a thunderstorm in my stomach I was so hungry. We were having fried hash, fried potato balls, fried cod, toast, and pumpkin mush with cream. Surprisingly a little apple pie with our morning milk and coffee too. After quickly stuffing my mouth we had to get to work at the looms.

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Yesterday someone’s finger got caught in one of the machines and got pulled off. It was hard to watch. Blood everywhere, girls screaming, it was a nightmare. I hope that doesn't happen to anyone else. One was bad enough.

# data[].attributes.body
The journey to the mill via carriage was to put it lightly, harsh. The roads were scarce and ever so rocky. The mornings were sweltering and the night provided little protection from the heat. I admit it felt heaven-sent when I finally arrived in Lowell.

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At Lowell mills we start our mornings early and we are always busy. We are up at  5:00 AM and eat as fast as we can. I share a nice room with three other girls. There are two beds which we share, a little fireplace, a small desk, and a luggage bag. There's a clock in every room because it is untimely to be late. It is a very modern room, but we are always in a big rush every morning to get ready. Breakfast is typically bread with butter, pie, coffee or biscuits. They feed us well, but we do not  have much time to eat. Still, compared to life on the farm this is very unique.

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After breakfast, we stumble into the loom room, sick to our stomachs from eating such a hearty meal in so little time. When we step into the dank, musky room, we are hit with the overwhelming smell of dust and sweat. The room is covered with numerous machines, clanking and rattling. The noise is deafening and overwhelming. My mouth tastes dry and salty. For hours, I work the machine in the claustrophobic room, with no breaks. Stuck in the never ending rhythm of the machines. Everywhere, thick leather bands are spinning and whirling.

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"It is the end of a grueling week, waking up at 4:30 cramming in food, working and working, then eating, sleeping, and repeating- No free time. Every day six and a half hours of sleep and right when that's over: back to work. Four dollars a week is lucrative, and the boarding houses are so decorated I feel like a Queen! But I don't know how much more I can put up with this… "

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When I stepped up to my designated machine, I instantly choked from the dust in the air. My throat hurt so much, it felt like the machine was weaving through my throat instead of the cotton. The ear shattering, constant banging of the machine made me feel sick. I took a step away from the machine but was petrified to see that I stepped in a puddle. A puddle of my own sweat, dripping down from my back. I felt like I was going to throw up, and time ticked so slowly until my morning work was over.

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Soon I will get my citizenship, good thing too, because clearly the Americans need to do a better job picking their president. Although the big brick buildings and strange people walking everywhere are certainly a big change from the farm, I’m afraid to say this place is starting to feel like home. Maria Natalia and I go to a Portuguese church every Sunday. We've met so many kind people there and they’ve helped us greatly on our journey to becoming Americans.

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Every day I pull myself out of bed, thinking of your laugh. I walk down the stairs, thinking about how we used to lie together under the red striped blanket you sewed for us. I shovel the exuberant food into my mouth, but I cannot make myself enjoy it. I far perfed the simple food we made at home. Then I walk to the looms. Oh! The dreaded looms. I cannot describe to you the misery I find in that room; as soon as the first looms start I know I will not find peace, quiet until their infernal clacking slows to a stop.

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I can’t help but feel just like the first day I came to America, all those months ago. Seasick from the horrid rocking of the ship, and utterly alone. I know it’s silly to feel that way when I’m surrounded by so many people for the first time. The big city of Lowell is far more busy and exciting than the rickety old shack in Ireland I used to share with my parents and five brothers, and I still have Thomas… though I don’t see him much anymore, with his work on the trenches and all.

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Today was my first day working in the mills. The work in the Mills is challenging. I have to wake up at four thirty in the morning, I have to work twelve hours a day, and I have to work six days a week. Also, the looms are humongous and are quite deafening! I had to work for such a long time, I'm starting to think my arm could fall off (foreshadowing 😉)!

# data[].attributes.body
July 20, 1832

This morning I had just arrived at my new home, and I was extremely excited to learn about this new place and to live here. I came here fleeing the potato famine, as my family had no food or money because of it, and I heard that there was work in the mills here where it would be much better than back at home. On top of that, I knew that I had to make money to pay for my younger brother’s school. Apparently if I could get a job working in the mills, I would get food, housing, and I would make money, which was my top priority. I got some more information about the conditions of the work, and although it doesn’t sound ideal, it's the best I got, and it will be better than how it is in Ireland. On the way here, I was extremely nervous on the boat. I was worried about my family, and how maybe America wouldn’t be so great. I lost many hours of sleep to it, on top of the sea sickness that everybody on the boat had. I am so relieved at how great this place is. Earlier today I walked around and saw many shops, and I even got a peek at the mills. Overall, I am extremely excited to spend some more time here. It seems like it’s going to be so much fun, and I am extremely grateful for this opportunity.

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Dear Family,

How are you faring and how is the farm?

I hope the little money I send home helps Finn’s education.

Here at Lowell Mills, every day (except Sundays) is a struggle. I have to work 12 long, tiring hours a day 6 days a week, and get up at a beastly hour of 4:30 am. I get paid a meager wage of $4 a week and must spend a fourth on church seats and another fourth on residence at the boarding house.

In the mills, I toil for hours until dinner break. Until then I break my back standing and weaving and coughing from the seemingly unending towers of dirt. It is unbearably hot and sweaty. Skirts, arms, and other limbs and accessories get caught in the looms and have to be  chopped off. This is the brutality of the mills. I miss home but I shall endure these hard times for you.

You would not believe the vast abundance of food here, we are given fried foods at every meal and carrots, turnips, pickles, coffee, pudding and every other edible  you could imagine every day. We may have only half an hour to eat but I enjoy every bite. Moreover we dine with fine china, and the food is cooked by a private cook!

I hope my letter finds you well.

With much love, Niamh

# data[].attributes.body
We must get up at four thirty, however, the breakfast is good. I do not like the pea soup, as it is very gloopy. I miss the food from home very much.

# data[].attributes.body
That night I arrived was the most scary. I remember feeling dizzy from exhaustion as one of the bunk inspectors showed me to my room. My new bunk mates greeted me kindly, but I was too scared to think much of that. I had been sat down in front of the fire, and the girls introduced themselves as my fingers thawed. Beatrice was the oldest, and kindest of them. Ann was quite small, and reminded me of the mice that scurried around the streets at home. Last was Mary. She didn't talk much, but I could tell by her bright eyes that she too was from Ireland.

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Oh! I almost forgot to mention that I met a wonderful man the other day! His name is Peter and he digs the trenches alongside my brother. John is very good friends with him. Yesterday, he brought me a flower from the rose bush by his boarding house. Honestly, I think I might be in love!

# data[].attributes.subject
Oh! I almost forgot to mention that I met a wonderful man the other day! His name is Peter and he digs the trenches alongside my brother. John is very good friends with him. Yesterday, he brought me a flower from the rose bush by his boarding house. Honestly, I think I might be in love!

# data[].attributes.body
My parents are insistent on me sending more money to them as if I’m not making only four dollars a week as it is, which a top of the pew tax and boarding fees and them ‘needing’ more money totals up to barely a dollar! I haven’t been able to get a new bonnet in the entire eight months I have been here.

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Dear Mother, May 18, 1837

I arrived safely at the mill yesterday, and today was my first day at the mill. I woke up even earlier than we do on the farm, and even though the food was good, the cook rushed us through breakfast, and we all had stomachaches afterward. My roommates are very kind, and they taught me how to use the looms, but I’m now worried for my safety since one of the women lost one of her arms today after it got caught in the loom!

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a young Irish girl in a cotton mill in the 1830s, coughing with a lot of other people working and coughing too. and they're really tired

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The date is 1843, working in Lowell Mills has been a struggle. I’ve been working in a very crowded and chaotic room, containing looms. I work 12 hours a day and it’s very frightening. I constantly hear the sound of looms clanging, people shouting, and I can barely hear myself think. Honestly I don’t know why my father sent me here, I’ve only gone through tears and hard labor.

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The mill work is tough, but I am working hard nonetheless. We must work ten hours a day, six days a week. I wake up at four am every day to the sound of the deafening bell that reminds me of pots hitting each other. I work for two hours until our 25 minute breakfast. We then work for a few more hours before we sit down for a 25 minute lunch. The mill room I work in is tremendously loud because of the 200 machines operating all at the same time. The looms are large wooden structures, with wheels that turn and little strips wrapped around them that spin. There are so many clanking sounds and footsteps from the girls that I can barely hear myself think. Water drips from the ceiling because we must keep the cloth damp in order to weave them. We must be careful around the looms because many girls have injured themselves or caught their hair in the looms. Last week, a poor girl got her finger caught  and it fell off. There was blood everywhere and I will never forget the sight of it falling to the ground and the girl’s piercing scream. I fear that I too will injure myself working and since then, I have made sure to be extremely careful while I’m working.

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I am glad to be making money to provide for my family and myself, but to tell the truth, the work can be quite painful at times. Literally, in some cases! Why just yesterday saw a girl’s finger get ripped right off her hand by one of the machines! It was a dreadful sight, and one that has now filled me with fear of the looms we work with. Speaking of the looms, they are like nothing I had ever seen before. They are like metal giants that weave cloth at the speed of lightning! But as interesting as they are, they're dreadfully noisy. They make a deafeningly loud clanking, whirring, banging chatter. I have now learned to stuff my ears with cotton to protect against them, but that barely seems to do any good. It is hot, sweaty work sitting in a stuffy room all day, but I am trying to stay positive by telling myself that it won’t be as bad in the winter. But it is quite hard to be positive while exhausted and drenched in sweat.

# data[].attributes.body
Feb 10, 1835

Today was the worst day of my life. I don’t even know how to start putting this into words. Today Sarah got hurt. Bad. She got caught in one of the looms and I don’t know if she will be ok. I don’t think I will ever unsee what happened to her. The guttural scream. The blood. It is too much to process. She got rushed to a hospital so I have no way to see if she is ok. I’m scared.

Feb 11, 1835

It’s lonely here without Sarah. I miss her laugh. I miss whispering well into the night. I keep thinking back to the day at the circus. We were so happy. Things can change so quickly. Each day feels like a dream as I mindlessly go through the motions of eating, working, eating, working. Even as I stand in busy rooms, bursting with people, it still feels like I’m alone.

Feb 14, 1835

Today we got the report from the hospital. Sarah died. When I heard the news I fell to my knees and sobbed. I couldn't stop the tears. These past few days have been so filled with grief and loneliness. Sometimes it feels like I am being wrapped in a thick fog of sorrow and there is no escape from its infinity. It’s like I’m being blinded. When I heard the news, the fog swallowed me whole. I feel so trapped, and small, and alone.  I want to go home. I can’t be here without being haunted by her memory.

Feb 17, 1835

Today a new girl came. They announced that she would be my new bed mate. The first thing she said to me was “I’m sorry about your friend. I’m sure we will have fun too, though!” I couldn’t believe it. It’s like she is trying to replace Sarah. As if she could step in and make it like Sarah was never even here. I haven't even had the proper time to grieve. Recently I have been grateful for our busy days. It leaves less time to think about Sarah.

Feb 30, 1835

I know there is no way to bring her back. I know there is no way to completely get rid of this feeling. But I don’t think I can manage much longer. I want to have a day not full of sadness. I want to have a dream not filled with screams. I will never forget Sarah. But I have to try to move on. I have to try to fix myself or else my life will slip past without ever really living it. I will never forget our friendship. But there has to be a way to live without constant sadness. I have to try.

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Getting up in the morning is the worst part for me because we have to get up at 4 am and then work for 2 hours for only a 25-minute break for breakfast where the lines are awful and I have to shovel down my food making me feel sick for the rest of the day. Although we do get a good amount of food it is spectacular and we even get a drink to go along with it. When I first started working with the looms I was terrified yet amazed at how modern it was. but the scary part was how fast the machines were moving and were so definingly loud, to make it worse every few hours you would hear a scream and someone would either get a chunk of hair ripped off if they were lucky but sometimes they would lose a finger or even worse. In the middle of the day, the loom room gets boiling and I almost can’t breathe because of the heat it just makes me feel uncomfortable and the food I shoveled in at breakfast doesn’t help. We also have to work 12 hours a day 6 days a week and even though we have free time after everything is over im so brutally exhausted that I can’t do anything other than sleep. I am starting to get more used to the difficult schedule but it is hard when I feel sick because you are not allowed to have any sick days so it is hard to recover from even the slightest of colds.

# data[].attributes.headline
	Working as a mill girl has been interesting. When I first arrived, two months ago, I was shocked by the fancy dining room and the boarding houses with comfortable beds. It amazed me that we were given all of this space to sleep, eat, hang out, and basically live in for as long as we are here. We don’t even have to do any chores that we would normally have to do back home. 

# data[].attributes.subject
	Working as a mill girl has been interesting. When I first arrived, two months ago, I was shocked by the fancy dining room and the boarding houses with comfortable beds. It amazed me that we were given all of this space to sleep, eat, hang out, and basically live in for as long as we are here. We don’t even have to do any chores that we would normally have to do back home. 

# data[].attributes.body
	Working as a mill girl has been interesting. When I first arrived, two months ago, I was shocked by the fancy dining room and the boarding houses with comfortable beds. It amazed me that we were given all of this space to sleep, eat, hang out, and basically live in for as long as we are here. We don’t even have to do any chores that we would normally have to do back home. 

# data[].attributes.body
Although work is why I came here, it is terrible. Working in this mill room is incredibly loud and tiring. The August heat keeps me sweating all day long, and it feels like one day of work lasts an eternity. Nevertheless, I get by, and at least I have work.

# data[].attributes.body
June 29, 1841

Dear Mother,

I am writing to you from the mills, after a long day of work. I would like to ask how John has been settling in with his wife? I sincerely hope that he is happy and well. Please say hello to him for me, and let him know that I miss him.

The mill has been very exciting so far, but the journey I made to come here even more so! I had been told about locomotive trains in school, but I did not truly believe they existed until I was met with one of the grandest sights I have ever seen. The scenery was beautiful too, and it was far less bumpy than any horse I have ever ridden.

Here at the mill, I was expecting the work to be far easier than it is, but I am sure I’ll eventually adjust to my new life. I am unsure whether I will ever adjust to the constant noise from the looms. I work in a room filled with other girls like me, working from 5:00 in the morning until the sun has set at night. I dread the longer days that await in July, and long for the end of summer already. There are two-hundred looms running all day, and the sound is so deafening that I struggle to hear the bell signaling mealtimes. I have to yell simply to communicate with someone working directly next to me.

Though the work is extremely tedious and boring, the food that we are allowed to eat three times a day is far nicer than anything at home. We are given meals of everything I could ever dream of. At supper today, I had the greatest pie I had ever eaten in my entire life. It was as if it was enchanted, I could not get enough of it. Despite the food being delicious, we are only permitted 20 minutes to eat and be back at our looms at meals, so I often find myself scarfing down food as fast as I can.
Another thing that I was not expecting was the stifling heat. In the loom room, the windows are constantly kept closed, so even if it was a windy day, I would be unable to feel anything but the horrible blanket of boiling air around me. It does not help that there is water being sprayed into the room at all times to make sure the yarn is moisturized, smothering me in constant suffocating humidity.

I have to go to bed now. I need to rest for tomorrow.

Signed, Isabella.

# data[].attributes.body
September 12, 1840

Dear grandma, I arrived at the Lowell Mills two weeks ago but I've been too busy to write anything! My journey started when I took a train from Vermont to Lowell. I had  never been on a train before so at first I was a little nervous and confused, the train was big and noisy and there were lots of other people on the train.  When I arrived at Lowell Mills someone showed me around. There are ten buildings in total and I was in the fifth building. In each building there are forty rooms. Each room has a fireplace, two beds for two girls in each bed, and somewhere to put your clothes. Beside all ten buildings there is a large open park, next to the park is a canal. If you cross the canal going over a bridge you get to the mill complexes, which is where all the mill girls work. Once they showed me around and brought me to my room it was already time to go to sleep! For the first few nights it was hard to fall asleep, it was noisy and I missed my parents. But after a week or so I got used to it. I start my day by waking up at five am. Then, I have to walk to the mill complex. Right now the weather is not too bad but in the winter walking all the way over is brutal. I work at the mills for twelve to forteen hours and I get paid between three or four dollars a week. We eat biscuits, bread, mush, stews, meats, pie, and hot drinks. The food isn’t amazing but it's not terrible either.  At the end of the day I eat dinner in the dining room and then head back to my room to sleep.  The next day, I do it all over again.

# data[].attributes.body
Life at the Mill is… much different than on the farm. We work 10 hours a day for 6 days every week, and we are paid $4 per week. The work is nothing like on the farm. It is very dangerous and I have heard rumors of multiple girls losing their fingers to the looms. The environment is very dry, and it is excruciatingly loud. I think I might be losing my hearing like other people have, and most likely will.

# data[].attributes.headline
Letter from a mill girl home to her brother

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Letter from a mill girl home to her brother

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(cut out some chunks in between)

Dear brother,

I am writing to you from my boarding house near Lowell Mills, in Lowell, Massachusetts. I am doing well. I am healthy, and, of course, making a great deal of money to put towards your education. January in Lowell is very cold. The wind is harsh, and there has been snow and ice on the ground for weeks. I am very thankful for the fireplace in my boarding house. The boarding house is nice, I live with four other girls, and there are two of us per bed.

We work 12 hours each day. That is time we spend in the loom room, working at the loom. They are very dangerous. Two weeks ago a girl got her finger chopped off while working! Of course we have meal breaks. Breakfast and lunch each last for 25 minutes. And that includes the time that it takes to get back to the boarding house and, after we eat, back to the mills. The mills get very dark at night, especially in the winter, because there are no lights, but there are gas lamps on the street which are stunning.

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Dear Mom and Dad. Today was another long work day as usual. I miss both of you so much and wish I could see you but my friend Fiona is here so at least I have one person from home here. My day today started with waking up at 4:30am. I was rushing this morning so I didn’t have much time to get ready. Today when I stepped outside it was warmer than usual. There was a slight breeze and it was early in the morning so I knew it was going to be hotter later. When I got to the mill room it smelled like it always does. Very dusty. It’s also very moist and It started to smell very sweaty later on.

# data[].attributes.headline
Part of a letter from a mill girl to her parents

# data[].attributes.subject
Part of a letter from a mill girl to her parents

# data[].attributes.body
25 minutes after we awake we start work in the loom rooms. You couldn’t imagine how deafening it is inside. Hundreds of machines all crank and clang and whir at the same time. I’m not sure my ears can endure the ten hours I spend in the loom rooms each day. The air inside the room smells of cotton and sweat, but also a new city smell. Everything feels new in the city. The buildings are monstrous. It is as if they could swallow ten of our farms in one gulp.

# data[].attributes.body
Once my stomach feels crammed, I head to the rooms, even when outside of the brick building I can hear the deafening sound of the leather ropes and the clanking of metal. Ever since I began to work I feel my hearing is muffled and my head is in a constant state of throbbing. The smell is putrid, It is impossible to escape the sweat and dust that enter my nostrils. For hours I stand and use my hands to maneuver the machine, I worry I might jam my finger or even lose an appendage. The other girls say it's not uncommon to succumb to the dangers.

# data[].attributes.body
Dearest Diary, the date is the tenth of January 1843. I awoke on this fine morning at 3:15 in the morning while it was still dark and had myself a delectable breakfast of two fried cod caught just off the coast, a cup of freshly ground coffee from Brazil, and a slice of baguette which was suggested to me by the local baker, Charles Pot, and for good reason! It may be the best loaf of bread I have ever eaten. I cleaned, put on my suit and heavy coat, and set out into the frigid winter morning. The wind bit at my face like furious dogs passing various fellows seeming exquisitely arfarfan'arf.

# data[].attributes.body
The boarding houses are fancy with nice furniture and china plates  but it is cramped. There are four people sleeping in one room at a time, two per bed. but the food is delicious and the furniture is comfortable