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hearse, Hunter laid

upon it the wreath that Barrington gave him, together with the another

he had brought himself, which had a similar ribbon with the words:

`From Rushton & Co. With deep sympathy.’

 

Seeing that Barrington and Owen were the only occupants of the

carriage, Bill Bates and the Semidrunk came up to the door and asked

if there was any objection to their coming and as neither Owen nor

Barrington objected, they did not think it necessary to ask anyone

else’s permission, so they got in.

 

Meanwhile, Hunter had taken his position a few yards in front of the

hearse and the bearers each his proper position, two on each side. As

the procession turned into the main road, they saw Snatchum standing

at the corner looking very gloomy. Hunter kept his eyes fixed

straight ahead and affected not to see him, but Crass could not resist

the temptation to indulge in a jeering smile, which so enraged

Snatchum that he shouted out:

 

`It don’t matter! I shan’t lose much! I can use it for someone

else!’

 

The distance to the cemetery was about three miles, so as soon as they

got out of the busy streets of the town, Hunter called a halt, and got

up on the hearse beside the driver, Crass sat on the other side, and

two of the other bearers stood in the space behind the driver’s seat,

the fourth getting up beside the driver of the coach; and then they

proceeded at a rapid pace.

 

As they drew near to the cemetery they slowed down, and finally

stopped when about fifty yards from the gate. Then Hunter and the

bearers resumed their former position, mid they passed through the

open gate and up to the door of the church, where they were received

by the clerk - a man in a rusty black cassock, who stood by while they

carried the coffin in and placed it on a kind of elevated table which

revolved on a pivot. They brought it in footfirst, and as soon as

they had placed it upon the table, the clerk swung it round so as to

bring the foot of the coffin towards the door ready to be carried out

again.

 

There was a special pew set apart for the undertakers, and in this

Hunter and the bearers took their seats to await the arrival of the

clergyman. Barrington and the three others sat on the opposite side.

There was no altar or pulpit in this church, but a kind of reading

desk stood on a slightly raised platform at the other end of the

aisle.

 

After a wait of about ten minutes, the clergyman entered and, at once

proceeding to the desk, began to recite in a rapid and wholly

unintelligible manner the usual office. If it had not been for the

fact that each of his hearers had a copy of the words - for there was

a little book in each pew - none of them would have been able to

gather the sense of what the man was gabbling. Under any other

circumstances, the spectacle of a human being mouthing in this absurd

way would have compelled laughter, and so would the suggestion that

this individual really believed that he was addressing the Supreme

Being. His attitude and manner were contemptuously indifferent.

While he recited, intoned, or gabbled, the words of the office, he was

reading the certificate and some other paper the clerk had placed upon

the desk, and when he had finished reading these, his gaze wandered

abstractedly round the chapel, resting for a long time with an

expression of curiosity upon Bill Bates and the Semidrunk, who were

doing their best to follow in their books the words he was repeating.

He next turned his attention to his fingers, holding his hand away

from him nearly at arm’s length and critically examining the nails.

 

From time to time as this miserable mockery proceeded the clerk in the

rusty black cassock mechanically droned out a sonorous `Ah-men’, and

after the conclusion of the lesson the clergyman went out of the

church, taking a short cut through the grave-stones and monuments,

while the bearers again shouldered the coffin and followed the clerk

to the grave. When they arrived within a few yards of their

destination, they were rejoined by the clergyman, who was waiting for

them at the corner of one of the paths. He put himself at the head of

the procession with an open book in his hand, and as they walked

slowly along, he resumed his reading or repetition of the words of the

service.

 

He had on an old black cassock and a much soiled and slightly torn

surplice. The unseemly appearance of this dirty garment was

heightened by the circumstance that he had not taken the trouble to

adjust it properly. It hung all lop-sided, showing about six inches

more of the black cassock underneath one side than the other.

However, perhaps it is not right to criticize this person’s appearance

so severely, because the poor fellow was paid only seven-and-six for

each burial, and as this was only the fourth funeral he had officiated

at that day, probably he could not afford to wear clean linen - at any

rate, not for the funerals of the lower classes.

 

He continued his unintelligible jargon while they were lowering the

coffin into the grave, and those who happened to know the words of the

office by heart were, with some difficulty, able to understand what he

was saying:

 

`Forasmuch as it hath pleased Almighty God of His great mercy to take

unto Himself the soul of our Dear Brother here departed, we therefore

commit his body to the ground; earth to earth; ashes to ashes, dust to

dust -‘

 

The earth fell from the clerk’s hand and rattled on the lid of the

coffin with a mournful sound, and when the clergyman had finished

repeating the remainder of the service, he turned and walked away in

the direction of the church. Hunter and the rest of the funeral party

made their way back towards the gate of the cemetery where the hearse

and the carriage were waiting.

 

On their way they saw another funeral procession coming towards them.

It was a very plain-looking closed hearse with only one horse. There

was no undertaker in front and no bearers walked by the sides.

 

It was a pauper’s funeral.

 

Three men, evidently dressed in their Sunday clothes, followed behind

the hearse. As they reached the church door, four old men who were

dressed in ordinary everyday clothes, came forward and opening the

hearse took out the coffin and carried it into the church, followed by

the other three, who were evidently relatives of the deceased. The

four old men were paupers - inmates of the workhouse, who were paid

sixpence each for acting as bearers.

 

They were just taking out the coffin from the hearse as Hunter’s party

was passing, and most of the latter paused for a moment and watched

them carry it into the church. The roughly made coffin was of white

deal, not painted or covered in any way, and devoid of any fittings or

ornament with the exception of a square piece of zinc on the lid.

None of Rushton’s party was near enough to recognize any of the

mourners or to read what was written on the zinc, but if they had been

they would have seen, roughly painted in black letters

 

J.L.

Aged 67

 

and some of them would have recognized the three mourners who were

Jack Linden’s sons.

 

As for the bearers, they were all retired working men who had come

into their `titles’. One of them was old Latham, the venetian blind

maker.

Chapter 48

The Wise men of the East

 

At the end of the following week there was a terrible slaughter at

Rushton’s. Barrington and all the casual hands were sacked, including

Newman, Easton and Harlow, and there was so little work that it looked

as if everyone else would have to stand off also. The summer was

practically over, so those who were stood off had but a poor chance of

getting a start anywhere else, because most other firms were

discharging hands as well.

 

There was only one other shop in the town that was doing anything at

all to speak of, and that was the firm of Dauber and Botchit. This

firm had come very much to the front during the summer, and had

captured several big jobs that Rushton & Co. had expected to get,

besides taking away several of the latter’s old customers.

 

This firm took work at almost half the price that Rushton’s could do

it for, and they had a foreman whose little finger was thicker than

Nimrod’s thigh . Some of the men who had worked for both firms during

the summer, said that after working for Dauber and Botchit, working

for Rushton seemed like having a holiday.

 

`There’s one bloke there,’ said Newman, in conversation with Harlow

and Easton. `There’s one bloke there wot puts up twenty-five rolls o’

paper in a day an’ trims and pastes for ‘imself; and as for the

painters, nearly everyone of ‘em gets over as much work as us three

put together, and if you’re working there you’ve got to do the same or

get the sack.’

 

However much truth or falsehood or exaggeration there may have been in

the stories of the sweating and driving that prevailed at Dauber and

Botchit’s, it was an indisputable fact that the other builders found it

very difficult to compete with them, and between the lot of them what

work there was to do was all finished or messed up in about a quarter

of the time that it would have taken to do it properly.

 

By the end of September there were great numbers of men out of

employment, and the practical persons who controlled the town were

already preparing to enact the usual farce of `Dealing’ with the

distress that was certain to ensue. The Rev. Mr Bosher talked of

reopening the Labour Yard; the secretary of the OBS appealed for more

money and castoff clothing and boots - the funds of the Society had

been depleted by the payment of his quarter’s salary. There were

rumours that the Soup Kitchen would be reopened at an early date for

the sale of `nourishment’, and charitable persons began to talk of

Rummage Sales and soup tickets.

 

Now and then, whenever a `job’ `came in’, a few of Rushton’s men were

able to put in a few hours’ work, but Barrington never went back. His

manner of life was the subject of much speculation on the part of his

former workmates, who were not a little puzzled by the fact that he

was much better dressed than they had ever known him to be before, and

that he was never without money. He generally had a tanner or a bob

to lend, and was always ready to stand a drink, to say nothing of what

it must have cost him for the quantities of Socialist pamphlets and

leaflets that he gave away broadcast. He lodged over at Windley, but

he used to take his meals at a little coffee tavern down town, where

he used often to invite one or two of his old mates to take dinner

with him. It sometimes happened that one of them would invite him

home of an evening, to drink a cup of tea, or to see some curiosity

that the other thought would interest him, and on these occasions - if

there were any children in the house to which they were going -

Barrington usually made a point of going into

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