Ragged Trousered Philanthropists by Robert Tressell (read novel full TXT) 📖

had

brought with them, being of elms with the usual imitation brass

furniture. Hunter took hold of the head and Crass the foot and they

lifted it off the tressels on to the floor.

 

`‘E’s not very ‘eavy; that’s one good thing,’ observed Hunter.

 

`‘E always was a very thin chap,’ replied Crass.

 

The screws that held down the lid had been covered over with

large-headed brass nails which had to be wrenched off before they

could get at the screws, of which there were eight altogether. It was

evident from the appearance of the beads of these screws that they

were old ones that had been used for some purpose before: they were

rusty and of different sizes, some being rather larger or smaller,

than they should have been. They were screwed in so firmly that by

the time they had drawn half of them out the two men were streaming

with perspiration. After a while Hunter took the candle from Sawkins

and the latter had a try at the screws.

 

`Anyone would think the dam’ things had been there for a ‘undred

years,’ remarked Hunter, savagely, as he wiped the sweat from his face

and neck with his handkerchief.

 

Kneeling on the lid of the coffin and panting and grunting with the

exertion, the other two continued to struggle with their task.

Suddenly Crass uttered an obscene curse; he had broken off one side of

the head of the screw he was trying to turn and almost at the same

instant a similar misfortune happened to Sawkins.

 

After this, Hunter again took a screwdriver himself, and when they got

all the screws out with the exception of the two broken ones, Crass

took a hammer and chisel out of the bag and proceeded to cut off what

was left of the tops of the two that remained. But even after this

was done the two screws still held the lid on the coffin, and so they

had to hammer the end of the blade of the chisel underneath and lever

the lid up so that they could get hold of it with their fingers. It

split up one side as they tore it off, exposing the dead man to view.

 

Although the marks of the cuts and bruises were still visible on

Philpot’s face, they were softened down by the pallor of death, and a

placid, peaceful expression pervaded his features. His hands were

crossed upon his breast, and as he lay there in the snow-white grave

clothes, almost covered in by the white lace frill that bordered the

sides of the coffin, he looked like one in a profound and tranquil sleep.

 

They laid the broken lid on the bed, and placed the two coffins side

by side on the floor as close together as possible. Sawkins stood at

one side holding the candle in his left hand and ready to render with

his right any assistance that might unexpectedly prove to be

necessary. Crass, standing at the foot, took hold of the body by the

ankles, while Hunter at the other end seized it by the shoulders with

his huge, clawlike hands, which resembled the talons of some obscene

bird of prey, and they dragged it out and placed it in the other

coffin.

 

Whilst Hunter - hovering ghoulishly over the corpse - arranged the

grave clothes and the frilling, Crass laid the broken cover on the top

of the other coffin and pushed it under the bed out of the way. Then

he selected the necessary screws and nails from the bag. and Hunter

having by this time finished, they proceeded to screw down the lid.

Then they lifted the coffin on to the tressels, covering it over with

the sheet, and the appearance it then presented was so exactly similar

to what they had seen when they first entered the room, that it caused

the same thought to occur to all of them: Suppose Snatchum took it

into his head to come there and take the body out again? If he were

to do so and take it up to the cemetery they might be compelled to

give up the certificate to him and then all their trouble would be

lost.

 

After a brief consultation, they resolved that it would be safer to

take the corpse on the handcart to the yard and keep it in the

carpenter’s shop until the funeral, which could take place from there.

Crass and Sawkins accordingly lifted the coffin off the tressels, and -

while Hunter held the light - proceeded to carry it downstairs, a task

of considerable difficulty owing to the narrowness of the staircase

and the landing. However, they got it down at last and, having put it

on the handcart, covered it over with the black wrapper. It was still

raining and the lamp in the cart was nearly out, so Sawkins trimmed

the wick and relit it before they started.

 

Hunter wished them `Good-night’ at the corner of the street, because

it was not necessary for him to accompany them to the yard - they

would be able to manage all that remained to be done by themselves.

He said he would make the arrangements for the funeral as soon as he

possibly could the next morning, and he would come to the job and let

them know, as soon as he knew himself, at what time they would have to

be in attendance to act as bearers. He had gone a little distance on

his way when he stopped and turned back to them.

 

`It’s not necessary for either of you to make a song about this

business, you know,’ he said.

 

The two men said that they quite understood that: he could depend on

their keeping their mouths shut.

 

When Hunter had gone, Crass drew out his watch. It was a quarter to

eleven. A little way down the road the lights of a public house were

gleaming through the mist.

 

`We shall be just in time to get a drink before closing time if we

buck up,’ he said. And with this object they hurried on as fast as

they could.

 

When they reached the tavern they left the cart standing by the kerb,

and went inside, where Crass ordered two pints of four-ale, which he

permitted Sawkins to pay for.

 

`How are we going on about this job?’ inquired the latter after they

had each taken a long drink, for they were thirsty after their

exertions. `I reckon we ought to ‘ave more than a bob for it, don’t

you? It’s not like a ordinary “lift in”.’

 

`Of course it ain’t,’ replied Crass. `We ought to ‘ave about, say’ -

reflecting - `say arf a dollar each at the very least.’

 

`Little enough too,’ said Sawkins. `I was going to say arf a crown,

myself.’

 

Crass agreed that even half a crown would not be too much.

 

`‘Ow are we going’ on about chargin’ it on our time sheets?’ asked

Sawkins, after a pause. `If we just put a “lift in”, they might only

pay us a bob as usual.’

 

As a rule when they had taken a coffin home, they wrote on their time

sheets, `One lift in’, for which they were usually paid one shilling,

unless it happened to be a very high-class funeral, when they

sometimes got one and sixpence. They were never paid by the hour for

these jobs.

 

Crass smoked reflectively.

 

`I think the best way will be to put it like this,’ he said at length.

`“Philpot’s funeral. One lift out and one lift in. Also takin’

corpse to carpenter’s shop.” ‘Ow would that do?’

 

Sawkins said that would be a very good way to put it, and they

finished their beer just as the landlord intimated that it was closing

time. The cart was standing where they left it, the black cloth

saturated with the rain, which dripped mournfully from its sable

folds.

 

When they reached the plot of waste ground over which they had to pass

in order to reach the gates of the yard, they had to proceed very

cautiously, for it was very dark, and the lantern did not give much

light. A number of carts and lorries were standing there, and the

path wound through pools of water and heaps of refuse. After much

difficulty and jolting, they reached the gate, which Crass unlocked

with the key he had obtained from the office earlier in the evening.

They soon opened the door of the carpenter’s shop and, after lighting

the gas, they arranged the tressels and then brought in the coffin and

placed it upon them. Then they locked the door and placed the key in

its usual hiding-place, but the key of the outer gate they took with

them and dropped into the letter-box at the office, which they had to

pass on their way home.

 

As they turned away from the door, they were suddenly confronted by a

policeman who flashed his lantern in their faces and demanded to know

why they had tried the lock…

 

The next morning was a very busy one for Hunter, who had to see

several new jobs commenced. They were all small affairs. Most of

them would only take two or three days from start to finish.

 

Attending to this work occupied most of his morning, but all the same

he managed to do the necessary business connected with the funeral,

which he arranged to take place at two o’clock on Wednesday afternoon

from the mortuary, where the coffin had been removed during the day,

Hunter deciding that it would not look well to have the funeral start

from the workshop.

 

Although Hunter had kept it as quiet as possible, there was a small

crowd, including several old workmates of Philpot’s who happened to be

out of work, waiting outside the mortuary to see the funeral start,

and amongst them were Bill Bates and the Semidrunk, who were both

sober. Barrington and Owen were also there, having left work for the

day in order to go to the funeral. They were there too in a sense as

the representatives of the other workmen, for Barrington carried a

large wreath which had been subscribed for voluntarily by Rushton’s

men. They could not all afford to lose the time to attend the

funeral, although most of them would have liked to pay that tribute of

regard to their old mate, so they had done this as the next best

thing. Attached to the wreath was a strip of white satin ribbon, upon

which Owen had painted a suitable inscription.

 

Promptly at two o’clock the hearse and the mourning coach drove up

with Hunter and the four bearers - Crass, Slyme, Payne and Sawkins,

all dressed in black with frock coats and silk hats. Although they

were nominally attired in the same way, there was a remarkable

dissimilarity in their appearance. Crass’s coat was of smooth,

intensely black cloth, having been recently dyed, and his hat was

rather low in the crown, being of that shape that curved outwards

towards the top. Hunter’s coat was a kind of serge with a rather

rusty cast of colour and his hat was very tall and straight, slightly

narrower at the crown than at the brim. As for the others, each of

them had a hat of a different fashion and date, and their `black’

clothes ranged from rusty brown to dark blue.

 

These differences were due to the fact that most of the garments had

been purchased at different times from different second-hand clothes

shops, and never being used except on such occasions as the present,

they lasted for an indefinite time.

 

When the coffin was brought out and placed in the