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

because I shall have to make some

working drawings first.’

 

`Workin’ drorins!’ ejaculated Misery with a puzzled expression. `Wot

workin’ drorins? You’ve got them, ain’t yer?’ pointing to the roll of

papers.

 

`Yes: but as the same ornaments are repeated several times, I shall

have to make a number of full-sized drawings, with perforated

outlines, to transfer the design to the walls,’ said Owen, and he

proceeded to laboriously explain the processes.

 

Nimrod looked at him suspiciously. `Is all that really necessary?’ he

asked. `Couldn’t you just copy it on the wall, free-hand?’

 

`No; that wouldn’t do. It would take much longer that way.’

 

This consideration appealed to Misery.

 

`Ah, well,’ he sighed. `I s’pose you’ll ‘ave to do it the way you

said; but for goodness sake don’t spend too much time over it, because

we’ve took it very cheap. We only took it on so as you could ‘ave a

job, not that we expect to make any profit out of it.’

 

`And I shall have to cut some stencils, so I shall need several sheets

of cartridge paper.’

 

Upon hearing of this addition expense, Misery’s long visage appeared

to become several inches longer; but after a moment’s thought he

brightened up.

 

`I’ll tell you what!’ he exclaimed with a cunning leer, `there’s lots

of odd rolls of wallpaper down at the shop. Couldn’t you manage with

some of that?’

 

`I’m afraid it wouldn’t do,’ replied Owen doubtfully, `but I’ll have a

look at it and if possible I’ll use it.’

 

`Yes, do!’ said Misery, pleased at the thought of saving something.

`Call at the shop on your way home tonight, and we’ll see what we can

find. ‘Ow long do you think it’ll take you to make the drorins and

the stencils?’

 

`Well, today’s Thursday. If you let someone else help Easton to get

the room ready, I think I can get them done in time to bring them with

me on Monday morning.’

 

`Wot do yer mean, “bring them with you”?’ demanded Nimrod.

 

`I shall have to do them at home, you know.’

 

`Do ‘em at ‘ome! Why can’t you do ‘em ‘ere?’

 

`Well, there’s no table, for one thing.’

 

`Oh, but we can soon fit you out with a table. You can ‘ave a pair of

paperhanger’s tressels and boards for that matter.’

 

`I have a lot of sketches and things at home that I couldn’t very well

bring here,’ said Owen.

 

Misery argued about it for a long time, insisting that the drawings

should be made either on the `job’ or at the paintshop down at the

yard. How, he asked, was be to know at what hour Owen commenced or

left off working, if the latter did them at home?

 

`I shan’t charge any more time than I really work,’ replied Owen. `I

can’t possibly do them here or at the paintshop. I know I should

only make a mess of them under such conditions.’

 

`Well, I s’pose you’ll ‘ave to ‘ave your own way,’ said Misery,

dolefully. `I’ll let Harlow help Easton paint the room out, so as you

can get your stencils and things ready. But for Gord’s sake get ‘em

done as quick as you can. If you could manage to get done by Friday

and come down and help Easton on Saturday, it would be so much the

better. And when you do get a start on the decoratin’, I shouldn’t

take too much care over it, you know, if I was you, because we ‘ad to

take the job for next to nothing or Mr Sweater would never ‘ave ‘ad it

done at all!’

 

Nimrod now began to crawl about the house, snarling and grumbling at

everyone.

 

`Now then, you chaps. Rouse yourselves!’ he bellowed, ‘you seem to

think this is a ‘orspital. If some of you don’t make a better show

than this, I’ll ‘ave to ‘ave a Alteration! There’s plenty of chaps

walkin’ about doin’ nothin’ who’ll be only too glad of a job!’

 

He went into the scullery, where Crass was mixing some colour.

 

`Look ‘ere, Crass!’ he said. `I’m not at all satisfied with the way

you’re gettin’ on with the work. You must push the chaps a bit more

than you’re doin’. There’s not enough being done, by a long way. We

shall lose money over this job before we’re finished!’

 

Crass - whose fat face had turned a ghastly green with fright -

mumbled something about getting on with it as fast as he could.

 

`Well, you’ll ‘ave to make ‘em move a bit quicker than this!’ Misery

howled, ‘or there’ll ‘ave to be a ALTERATION!’

 

By an `alteration’ Crass understood that he might get the sack, or

that someone else might be put in charge of the job, and that would of

course reduce him to the ranks and do away with his chance of being

kept on longer than the others. He determined to try to ingratiate

himself with Hunter and appease his wrath by sacrificing someone else.

He glanced cautiously into the kitchen and up the passage and then,

lowering his voice, he said:

 

`They all shapes pretty well, except Newman. I would ‘ave told you

about ‘im before, but I thought I’d give ‘im a fair chance. I’ve

spoke to ‘im several times myself about not doin’ enough, but it don’t

seem to make no difference.’

 

`I’ve ‘ad me eye on ‘im meself for some time,’ replied Nimrod in the

same tone. `Anybody would think the work was goin’ to be sent to a

Exhibition, the way ‘e messes about with it, rubbing it with

glasspaper and stopping up every little crack! I can’t understand

where ‘e gets all the glasspaper FROM’

 

`‘E brings it ‘isself!’ said Crass hoarsely. `I know for a fact that

‘e bought two ‘a’penny sheets of it, last week out of ‘is own money!’

 

`Oh, ‘e did, did ‘e?’ snarled Misery. `I’ll give ‘im glasspaper!

I’ll ‘ave a Alteration!’

 

He went into the hall, where he remained alone for a considerable

time, brooding. At last, with the manner of one who has resolved on a

certain course of action, he turned and entered the room where Philpot

and Harlow were working.

 

`You both get sevenpence an hour, don’t you?’ he said.

 

They both replied to the affirmative.

 

`I’ve never worked under price yet,’ added Harlow.

 

`Nor me neither,’ observed Philpot.

 

`Well, of course you can please yourselves,’ Hunter continued, `but

after this week we’ve decided not to pay more than six and a half.

Things is cut so fine nowadays that we can’t afford to go on payin’

sevenpence any longer. You can work up till tomorrow night on the old

terms, but if you’re not willin’ to accept six and a half you needn’t

come on Saturday morning. Please yourselves. Take it or leave it.’

 

Harlow and Philpot were both too much astonished to say anything in

reply to this cheerful announcement, and Hunter, with the final

remark, `You can think it over,’ left them and went to deliver the

same ultimatum to all the other full-price men, who took it in the

same way as Philpot and Harlow had done. Crass and Owen were the

only two whose wages were not reduced.

 

It will be remembered that Newman was one of those who were already

working for the reduced rate. Misery found him alone in one of the

upper rooms, to which he was giving the final coat. He was at his old

tricks. The woodwork of the cupboard be was doing was in a rather

damaged condition, and he was facing up the dents with white-lead

putty before painting it. He knew quite well that Hunter objected to

any but very large holes or cracks being stopped, and yet somehow or

other he could not scamp the work to the extent that he was ordered

to; and so, almost by stealth, he was in the habit of doing it - not

properly but as well as he dared. He even went to the length of

occasionally buying a few sheets of glasspaper with his own money, as

Crass had told Hunter. When the latter came into the room he stood

with a sneer on his face, watching Newman for about five minutes

before he spoke. The workman became very nervous and awkward under

this scrutiny.

 

`You can make out yer time-sheet and come to the office for yer money

at five o’clock,’ said Nimrod at last. `We shan’t require your

valuable services no more after tonight.’

 

Newman went white.

 

`Why, what’s wrong?’ said he. `What have I done?’

 

`Oh, it’s not wot you’ve DONE,’ replied Misery. `It’s wot you’ve not

done. That’s wot’s wrong! You’ve not done enough, that’s all!’ And

without further parley he turned and went out.

 

Newman stood in the darkening room feeling as if his heart had turned

to lead. There rose before his mind the picture of his home and

family. He could see them as they were at this very moment, the wife

probably just beginning to prepare the evening meal, and the children

setting the cups and saucers and other things on the kitchen table - a

noisy work, enlivened with many a frolic and childish dispute. Even

the two-year-old baby insisted on helping, although she always put

everything in the wrong place and made all sorts of funny mistakes.

They had all been so happy lately because they knew that he had work

that would last till nearly Christmas - if not longer. And now this

had happened - to plunge them back into the abyss of wretchedness

from which they had so recently escaped. They still owed several

weeks’ rent, and were already so much in debt to the baker and the

grocer that it was hopeless to expect any further credit.

 

`My God!’ said Newman, realizing the almost utter hopelessness of the

chance of obtaining another `job’ and unconsciously speaking aloud.

`My God! How can I tell them? What WILL become of us?’

 

Having accomplished the objects of his visit, Hunter shortly

afterwards departed, possibly congratulating himself that he had not

been hiding his light under a bushel, but that he had set it upon a

candlestick and given light unto all that were within that house.

 

As soon as they knew that he was gone, the men began to gather into

little groups, but in a little while they nearly all found themselves

in the kitchen, discussing the reduction. Sawkins and the other

`lightweights’ remained at their work. Some of them got only

fourpence halfpenny - Sawkins was paid fivepence - so none of these

were affected by the change. The other two fresh hands - the

journeymen - joined the crowd in the kitchen, being anxious to conceal

the fact that they had agreed to accept the reduced rate before being

`taken on’. Owen also was there, having heard the news hem Philpot.

 

There was a lot of furious talk. At first several of them spoke of

`chucking up’, at once; but others were more prudent, for they knew

that if they did leave there were dozens of others who would be eager

to take their places.

 

`After all, you know,’ said Slyme, who had - stowed away somewhere at

the back of his head - an idea of presently starting business on his

own account: he was only waiting until he had saved enough money,

`after all, there’s something in what ‘Unter says. It’s very ‘ard to

get a fair price for work nowadays. Things IS cut very fine.’

 

`Yes! We know all about that!’ shouted Harlow. `And who the bloody

‘ell is it cuts ‘em?