They look what, about ten or eleven year old, survivors of the famine, yet they'd probably lost everything, their families, their home, their hope, abandoned, living now in the workhouse, or just been let out of it, to do day work for a local farmer, back-breaking work, for them, them that were hungry all the time, and had no energy, no advocate, no one to be their protector, advisor, father, or mother. Imagine them, 1854, never having seen a camera, not having any clue what it did, or what a photograph was, never having spoken to a 'toff', a Colonel, looking at his rich clothes, afraid, completely terrified of his authority, of his status, hoping he'd hurry up at whatever it was he was telling them to sit still for so long for, and hoping, praying that he'd be true to his word, and give them a penny each, or tuppence, thinking they should have asked for a shiny tanner each, or even a 'bob', sure weren't they worth a bob? Or had they been told often enough already, they weren't worth a bob! They'd be worth a bob when they took the King's shilling and joined the army, yes, they'd be worth a bob then, little drummer boys, or worse, but anything would be better than their lot right now. Next year, when they are twelve, They'll tell them they are fourteen, next year they will get a uniform like that gentleman. Has he finished yet? What's he doing, he's still under that black cloth behind the camera, maybe they could just leave, what, leave without their tuppence, not a chance, they will wait as long as it takes, however long it takes him to fix whatever he's doing behind that box, they'll wait, like dogs at the back door, they have all day.
(Photo taken in 1854 in Templemore Tipperary, by Alfred Capel-Cure, 1826-1896, then a Brevet Lieutenant Colonel, stationed with his regiment in Tipperary, and a pioneer of early photography).
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