Quite Likely the Worst Job Ever

Journalist and social reformer Henry Mayhew wrote about the many ways poor people in Victorian London found to make a living.
None of his subjects, though, aroused more fascination–or greater disgust–among his readers than the men who made it their living by forcing entry into London’s sewers at low tide and wandering through them, sometimes for miles, searching out and collecting the miscellaneous scraps washed down from the streets above: bones, fragments of rope, miscellaneous bits of metal, silver cutlery and–if they were lucky–coins dropped in the streets above and swept into the gutters.

Mayhew called them “sewer hunters” or “toshers,” and the latter term has come to define the breed, though it actually had a rather wider application in Victorian times–the toshers sometimes worked the shoreline of the Thames rather than the sewers, and also waited at rubbish dumps when the contents of damaged houses were being burned and then sifted through the ashes for any items of value. They were mostly celebrated, nonetheless, for the living that the sewers gave them, which was enough to support a tribe of around 200 men–each of them known only by his nickname: Lanky Bill, Long Tom, One-eyed George, Short-armed Jack.

The work was unpleasant and dangerous, but paid pretty well for the time. Read all you ever wanted to know about toshers at Past Imperfect. Link

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The worst job is what untouchables have to do for money in India like cleaning out the septic tanks of public toilets barefoot and with their bare hands.

Imagine standing knee deep mucking 100 pounds of human waste out of a tank with your bare hands.
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