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

was a very difficult question: to tell the

truth, he himself could not make head or tail of it. At length he

said aloud, addressing himself to Crass:

 

`Wot do you think of this ‘ere fissical policy, Bob?’

 

`Ain’t thought much about it,’ replied Crass. `I don’t never worry my

‘ed about politics.’

 

`Much better left alone,’ chimed in old Jack Linden sagely, `argyfying

about politics generally ends up with a bloody row an’ does no good to

nobody.’

 

At this there was a murmur of approval from several of the others.

Most of them were averse from arguing or disputing about politics. If

two or three men of similar opinions happened to be together they

might discuss such things in a friendly and superficial way, but in a

mixed company it was better left alone. The ‘Fissical Policy’

emanated from the Tory party. That was the reason why some of them

were strongly in favour of it, and for the same reason others were

opposed to it. Some of them were under the delusion that they were

Conservatives: similarly, others imagined themselves to be Liberals.

As a matter of fact, most of them were nothing. They knew as much

about the public affairs of their own country as they did of the

condition of affairs in the planet of Jupiter.

 

Easton began to regret that he had broached so objectionable a

subject, when, looking up from his paper, Owen said:

 

`Does the fact that you never “trouble your heads about politics”

prevent you from voting at election times?’

 

No one answered, and there ensued a brief silence. Easton however, in

spite of the snub he had received, could not refrain from talking.

 

`Well, I don’t go in for politics much, either, but if what’s in this

‘ere paper is true, it seems to me as we oughter take some interest in

it, when the country is being ruined by foreigners.’

 

`If you’re going to believe all that’s in that bloody rag you’ll want

some salt,’ said Harlow.

 

The Obscurer was a Tory paper and Harlow was a member of the local

Liberal club. Harlow’s remark roused Crass.

 

`Wot’s the use of talkin’ like that?’ he said; `you know very well

that the country IS being ruined by foreigners. Just go to a shop to

buy something; look round the place an’ you’ll see that more than ‘arf

the damn stuff comes from abroad. They’re able to sell their goods

‘ere because they don’t ‘ave to pay no dooty, but they takes care to

put ‘eavy dooties on our goods to keep ‘em out of their countries; and

I say it’s about time it was stopped.’

 

`‘Ear, ‘ear,’ said Linden, who always agreed with Crass, because the

latter, being in charge of the job, had it in his power to put in a

good - or a bad - word for a man to the boss. `‘Ear, ‘ear! Now

that’s wot I call common sense.’

 

Several other men, for the same reason as Linden, echoed Crass’s

sentiments, but Owen laughed contemptuously.

 

`Yes, it’s quite true that we gets a lot of stuff from foreign

countries,’ said Harlow, `but they buys more from us than we do from

them.’

 

`Now you think you know a ‘ell of a lot,’ said Crass. `‘Ow much more

did they buy from us last year, than we did from them?’

 

Harlow looked foolish: as a matter of fact his knowledge of the

subject was not much wider than Crass’s. He mumbled something about

not having no ‘ed for figures, and offered to bring full particulars

next day.

 

`You’re wot I call a bloody windbag,’ continued Crass; `you’ve got a

‘ell of a lot to say, but wen it comes to the point you don’t know

nothin’.’

 

`Why, even ‘ere in Mugsborough,’ chimed in Sawkins - who though still

lying on the dresser had been awakened by the shouting - `We’re

overrun with ‘em! Nearly all the waiters and the cook at the Grand

Hotel where we was working last month is foreigners.’

 

`Yes,’ said old Joe Philpot, tragically, `and then thers all them

Hitalian horgin grinders, an’ the blokes wot sells ‘ot chestnuts; an’

wen I was goin’ ‘ome last night I see a lot of them Frenchies sellin’

hunions, an’ a little wile afterwards I met two more of ‘em comin’ up

the street with a bear.’

 

Notwithstanding the disquieting nature of this intelligence, Owen

again laughed, much to the indignation of the others, who thought it

was a very serious state of affairs. It was a dam’ shame that these

people were allowed to take the bread out of English people’s mouths:

they ought to be driven into the bloody sea.

 

And so the talk continued, principally carried on by Crass and those

who agreed with him. None of them really understood the subject: not

one of them had ever devoted fifteen consecutive minutes to the

earnest investigation of it. The papers they read were filled with

vague and alarming accounts of the quantities of foreign merchandise

imported into this country, the enormous number of aliens constantly

arriving, and their destitute conditions, how they lived, the crimes

they committed, and the injury they did to British trade. These were

the seeds which, cunningly sown in their minds, caused to grow up

within them a bitter undiscriminating hatred of foreigners. To them

the mysterious thing they variously called the `Friscal Policy’, the

`Fistical Policy’, or the `Fissical Question’ was a great Anti-Foreign

Crusade. The country was in a hell of a state, poverty, hunger and

misery in a hundred forms had already invaded thousands of homes and

stood upon the thresholds of thousands more. How came these things to

be? It was the bloody foreigner! Therefore, down with the foreigners

and all their works. Out with them. Drive them b—s into the bloody

sea! The country would be ruined if not protected in some way. This

Friscal, Fistical, Fissical or whatever the hell policy it was called,

WAS Protection, therefore no one but a bloody fool could hesitate to

support it. It was all quite plain - quite simple. One did not need

to think twice about it. It was scarcely necessary to think about it

at all.

 

This was the conclusion reached by Crass and such of his mates who

thought they were Conservatives - the majority of them could not have

read a dozen sentences aloud without stumbling - it was not necessary

to think or study or investigate anything. It was all as clear as

daylight. The foreigner was the enemy, and the cause of poverty and

bad trade.

 

When the storm had in some degree subsided,

 

`Some of you seem to think,’ said Owen, sneeringly, `that it was a

great mistake on God’s part to make so many foreigners. You ought to

hold a mass meeting about it: pass a resolution something like this:

“This meeting of British Christians hereby indignantly protests

against the action of the Supreme Being in having created so many

foreigners, and calls upon him to forthwith rain down fire, brimstone

and mighty rocks upon the heads of all those Philistines, so that they

may be utterly exterminated from the face of the earth, which rightly

belongs to the British people”.’

 

Crass looked very indignant, but could think of nothing to say in

answer to Owen, who continued:

 

`A little while ago you made the remark that you never trouble

yourself about what you call politics, and some of the rest agreed

with you that to do so is not worth while. Well, since you never

“worry” yourself about these things, it follows that you know nothing

about them; yet you do not hesitate to express the most decided

opinions concerning matters of which you admittedly know nothing.

Presently, when there is an election, you will go and vote in favour

of a policy of which you know nothing. I say that since you never

take the trouble to find out which side is right or wrong you have no

right to express any opinion. You are not fit to vote. You should

not be allowed to vote.’

 

Crass was by this time very angry.

 

`I pays my rates and taxes,’ he shouted, `an’ I’ve got as much right

to express an opinion as you ‘ave. I votes for who the bloody ‘ell I

likes. I shan’t arst your leave nor nobody else’s! Wot the ‘ell’s it

got do with you who I votes for?’

 

`It has a great deal to do with me. If you vote for Protection you

will be helping to bring it about, and if you succeed, and if

Protection is the evil that some people say is is, I shall be one of

those who will suffer. I say you have no right to vote for a policy

which may bring suffering upon other people, without taking the

trouble to find out whether you are helping to make things better or

worse.’

 

Owen had risen from his seat and was walking up and down the room

emphasizing his words with excited gestures.

 

`As for not trying to find out wot side is right,’ said Crass,

somewhat overawed by Owen’s manner and by what he thought was the

glare of madness in the latter’s eyes, `I reads the Ananias every

week, and I generally takes the Daily Chloroform, or the Hobscurer,

so I ought to know summat about it.’

 

`Just listen to this,’ interrupted Easton, wishing to create a

diversion and beginning to read from the copy of the Obscurer which he

still held in his hand:

 

`GREAT DISTRESS IN MUGSBOROUGH.

HUNDREDS OUT OF EMPLOYMENT.

WORK OF THE CHARITY SOCIETY.

789 CASES ON THE BOOKS.

 

`Great as was the distress among the working classes last year,

unfortunately there seems every prospect that before the winter

which has just commenced is over the distress will be even more

acute.

 

Already the Charity Society and kindred associations are relieving

more cases than they did at the corresponding time last year.

Applications to the Board of Guardians have also been much more

numerous, and the Soup Kitchen has had to open its doors on Nov. 7th

a fortnight earlier than usual. The number of men, women and

children provided with meals is three or four times greater than

last year.’

 

Easton stopped: reading was hard work to him.

 

`There’s a lot more,’ he said, `about starting relief works: two

shillings a day for married men and one shilling for single and

something about there’s been 1,572 quarts of soup given to poor

families wot was not even able to pay a penny, and a lot more. And

‘ere’s another thing, an advertisement:

 

`THE SUFFERING POOR

 

Sir: Distress among the poor is so acute that I earnestly ask you

for aid for The Salvation Army’s great Social work on their behalf.

Some 600 are being sheltered nightly. Hundreds are found work

daily. Soup and bread are distributed in the midnight hours to

homeless wanderers in London. Additional workshops for the

unemployed have been established. Our Social Work for men, women

and children, for the characterless and the outcast, is the largest

and oldest organized effort of its kind in the country, and greatly

needs help. �10,000 is required before Christmas Day. Gifts may be

made to any specific section or home, if desired. Can you please

send us something to keep the work going? Please address cheques,

crossed Bank of England (Law Courts Branch), to me at 101, Queen

Victoria Street, EC. Balance Sheets and Reports upon application.

`BRAMWELL BOOTH.’

 

`Oh, that’s part of the great ‘appiness an’ prosperity wot Owen makes

out Free Trade brings,’ said Crass with a jeering laugh.

 

`I never said