Ragged Trousered Philanthropists by Robert Tressell (read novel full TXT) 📖
- Author: Robert Tressell
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door, and without troubling to knock, flung it violently open and
entered.
The atmosphere of this place was very different from that of the damp
cellar where Bert was working. A grate fitted with asbestos blocks
and lit with gas communicated a genial warmth to the air.
Rushton was standing leaning over Miss Wade’s chair with his left arm
round her neck. Owen recollected afterwards that her dress was
disarranged. She retired hastily to the far end of the room as
Rushton jumped away from her, and stared in amazement and confusion at
the intruder - he was too astonished and embarrassed to speak. Owen
stood panting and quivering in the middle of the office and pointed a
trembling finger at his employer:
`I’ve come - here - to tell - you - that - if I find young - Bert
White - working - down in that shop - without a fire - I’ll have you
prosecuted. The place is not good enough for a stable - if you owned
a valuable dog - you wouldn’t keep it there - I give you fair warning -
I know - enough - about you - to put you - where you deserve to be -
if you don’t treat him better I’ll have you punished I’ll show you
up.’
Rushton continued to stare at him in mingled confusion, fear and
perplexity; he did not yet comprehend exactly what it was all about;
he was guiltily conscious of so many things which he might reasonably
fear to be shown up or prosecuted for if they were known, and the fact
of being caught under such circumstances with Miss Wade helped to
reduce him to a condition approaching terror.
`If the boy has been there without a fire, I ‘aven’t known anything
about it,’ he stammered at last. `Mr ‘Unter has charge of all those
matters.’
`You - yourself - forbade him - to make a fire last winter - and
anyhow - you know about it now. You obtained money from his mother
under the pretence - that you were going - to teach him a trade - but
for the last twelve months - you have been using him - as if he were -
a beast of burden. I advise you to see to it - or I shall - find -
means - to make you - wish you had done so.’
With this Owen turned and went out, leaving the door open, and Rushton
in a state of mind compounded of fear, amazement and anger.
As he walked homewards through the snow-storm, Owen began to realize
that the consequence of what he had done would be that Rushton would
not give him any more work, and as he reflected on all that this would
mean to those at home, for a moment he doubted whether he had done
right. But when he told Nora what had happened she said there were
plenty of other firms in the town who would employ him - when they had
the work. He had done without Rushton before and could do so again;
for her part - whatever the consequences might be - she was glad that
he had acted as he did.
`We’ll get through somehow, I suppose,’ said Owen, wearily. `There’s
not much chance of getting a job anywhere else just now, but I shall
try to get some work on my own account. I shall do some samples of
showcards the same as I did last winter and try to get orders from
some of the shops - they usually want something extra at this time,
but I’m afraid it is rather too late: most of them already have all
they want.’
`I shouldn’t go out again today if I were you,’ said Nora, noticing
how ill he looked. `You should stay at home and read, or write up
those minutes.’
The minutes referred to were those of the last meeting of the local
branch of the Painters’ Society, of which Owen was the secretary, and
as the snow continued to fall, he occupied himself after dinner in the
manner his wife suggested, until four o’clock, when Frankie returned
from school bringing with him a large snowball, and crying out as a
piece of good news that the snow was still falling heavily, and that
he believed it was freezing!
They went to bed very early that night, for it was necessary to
economize the coal, and not only that, but - because the rooms were so
near the roof - it was not possible to keep the place warm no matter
how much coal was used. The fire seemed, if anything, to make the
place colder, for it caused the outer air to pour in through the
joints of the ill-fitting doors and windows.
Owen lay awake for the greater part of the night. The terror of the
future made rest or sleep impossible. He got up very early the next
morning - long before it was light - and after lighting the fire, set
about preparing the samples he had mentioned to Nora, but found that
it would not be possible to do much in this direction without buying
more cardboard, for most of what he had was not in good condition.
They had bread and butter and tea for breakfast. Frankie had his in
bed and it was decided to keep him away from school until after dinner
because the weather was so very cold and his only pair of boots were
so saturated with moisture from having been out in the snow the
previous day.
`I shall make a few inquiries to see if there’s any other work to be
had before I buy the cardboard,’ said Owen, `although I’m afraid it’s
not much use.’
Just as he was preparing to go out, the front door bell rang, and as
he was going down to answer it he saw Bert White coming upstairs. The
boy was carrying a flat, brown-paper parcel under his arm.
`A corfin plate,’ he explained as he arrived at the door. `Wanted at
once - Misery ses you can do it at ‘ome, an’ I’ve got to wait for it.’
Owen and his wife looked at each other with intense relief. So he was
not to be dismissed after all. It was almost too good to be true.
`There’s a piece of paper inside the parcel with the name of the party
what’s dead,’ continued Bert, `and here’s a little bottle of Brunswick
black for you to do the inscription with.’
`Did he send any other message?’
`Yes: he told me to tell you there’s a job to be started Monday morning -
a couple of rooms to be done out somewhere. Got to be finished by
Thursday; and there’s another job ‘e wants you to do this afternoon -
after dinner - so you’ve got to come to the yard at one o’clock. ‘E
told me to tell you ‘e meant to leave a message for you yesterday
morning, but ‘e forgot.’
`What did he say to you about the fire - anything?’
`Yes: they both of ‘em came about an hour after you went away - Misery
and the Bloke too - but they didn’t kick up a row. I wasn’t arf
frightened, I can tell you, when I saw ‘em both coming, but they was
quite nice. The Bloke ses to me, “Ah, that’s right, my boy,” ‘e ses.
“Keep up a good fire. I’m going to send you some coke,” ‘e ses. And
then they ‘ad a look round and ‘e told Sawkins to put some new panes
of glass where the winder was broken, and - you know that great big
packing-case what was under the truck shed?’
`Yes.’
`Well, ‘e told Sawkins to saw it up and cover over the stone floor of
the paintshop with it. It ain’t ‘arf all right there now. I’ve
cleared out all the muck from under the benches and we’ve got two
sacks of coke sent from the gasworks, and the Bloke told me when
that’s all used up I’ve got to get a order orf Miss Wade for another
lot.’
At one o’clock Owen was at the yard, where he saw Misery, who
instructed him to go to the front shop and paint some numbers on the
racks where the wallpapers were stored. Whilst he was doing this work
Rushton came in and greeted him in a very friendly way.
`I’m very glad you let me know about the boy working in that
paintshop,’ he observed after a few preliminary remarks. `I can
assure you as I don’t want the lad to be uncomfortable, but you know I
can’t attend to everything myself. I’m much obliged to you for
telling me about it; I think you did quite right; I should have done
the same myself.’
Owen did not know what to reply, but Rushton walked off without
waiting…
‘It’s a Far, Far Better Thing that I do, than I have Ever Done’
Although Owen, Easton and Crass and a few others were so lucky as to
have had a little work to do during the last few months, the majority
of their fellow workmen had been altogether out of employment most of
the time, and meanwhile the practical business-men, and the pretended
disciples of Christ - the liars and hypocrites who professed to
believe that all men are brothers and God their Father - had continued
to enact the usual farce that they called `Dealing’ with the misery
that surrounded them on every side. They continued to organize
`Rummage’ and `Jumble’ sales and bazaars, and to distribute their
rotten castoff clothes and boots and their broken victuals and soup
to such of the Brethren as were sufficiently degraded to beg for them.
The beautiful Distress Committee was also in full operation; over a
thousand Brethren had registered themselves on its books. Of this
number - after careful investigation - the committee had found that no
fewer than six hundred and seventy-two were deserving of being allowed
to work for their living. The Committee would probably have given
these six hundred and seventy-two the necessary permission, but it was
somewhat handicapped by the fact that the funds at its disposal were
only sufficient to enable that number of Brethren to be employed for
about three days. However, by adopting a policy of temporizing,
delay, and general artful dodging, the Committee managed to create the
impression that they were Dealing with the Problem.
If it had not been for a cunning device invented by Brother Rushton, a
much larger number of the Brethren would have succeeded in registering
themselves as unemployed on the books of the Committee. In previous
years it had been the practice to issue an application form called a
`Record Paper’ to any Brother who asked for one, and the Brother
returned it after filling it in himself. At a secret meeting of the
Committee Rushton proposed - amid laughter and applause, it was such a
good joke - a new and better way, calculated to keep down the number
of applicants. The result of this innovation was that no more forms
were issued, but the applicants for work were admitted into the office
one at a time, and were there examined by a junior clerk, somewhat
after the manner of a French Juge d’Instruction interrogating a
criminal, the clerk filling in the form according to the replies of
the culprit.
`What’s your name?’
`Where do you live?’
`How long have you been living there?’
`Where did you live before you went there?’
`How
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