Part 77 (1/2)

But all the same, when they got the sack most of the others laughed and sneered and were glad. Perhaps because they thought that the fact that these two unfortunates had been disgraced, increased their own chances of being 'kept on'. And so it was with nearly everything. With a few exceptions, they had an immense amount of respect for Rushton and Hunter, and very little respect or sympathy for each other.

Exactly the same lack of feeling for each other prevailed amongst the members of all the different trades. Everybody seemed glad if anybody got into trouble for any reason whatever.

There was a garden gate that had been made at the carpenter's shop: it was not very well put together, and for the usual reason; the man had not been allowed the time to do it properly. After it was fixed, one of his shopmates wrote upon it with lead pencil in big letters: 'This is good work for a joiner. Order one ton of putty.'

But to hear them talking in the pub of a Sat.u.r.day afternoon just after pay-time one would think them the best friends and mates and the most independent spirits in the world, fellows whom it would be very dangerous to trifle with, and who would stick up for each other through thick and thin. All sorts of stories were related of the wonderful things they had done and said; of jobs they had 'chucked up', and masters they had 'told off': of pails of whitewash thrown over offending employers, and of horrible a.s.saults and batteries committed upon the same. But strange to say, for some reason or other, it seldom happened that a third party ever witnessed any of these prodigies. It seemed as if a chivalrous desire to spare the feelings of their victims had always prevented them from doing or saying anything to them in the presence of witnesses.

When he had drunk a few pints, Cra.s.s was a very good hand at these stories. Here is one that he told in the bar of the Cricketers on the Sat.u.r.day afternoon of the same week that Bill Bates and the Semi-drunk got the sack. The Cricketers was only a few minutes walk from the shop and at pay-time a number of the men used to go in there to take a drink before going home.

'Last Thursday night about five o'clock, 'Unter comes inter the paint-shop an' ses to me, ”I wants a pail o' wash made up tonight, Cra.s.s,” 'e ses, ”ready for fust thing in the mornin',” 'e ses. ”Oh,” I ses, lookin' 'im straight in the b.l.o.o.d.y eye, ”Oh, yer do, do yer?”--just like that. ”Yes,” 'e ses. ”Well, you can b.l.o.o.d.y well make it yerself!” I ses, ”'cos I ain't agoin' to,” I ses--just like that.

”Wot the 'ell do yer mean,” I ses, ”by comin' 'ere at this time o'

night with a order like that?” I ses. You'd a larfed,' continued Cra.s.s, as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand after taking another drink out of his gla.s.s, and looking round to note the effect of the story, 'you'd a larfed if you'd bin there. 'E was fairly flabbergasted! And wen I said that to 'im I see 'is jaw drop! An'

then 'e started apoligizing and said as 'e 'adn't meant no offence, but I told 'im b.l.o.o.d.y straight not to come no more of it. ”You bring the horder at a reasonable time,” I ses--just like that--”and I'll attend to it,” I ses, ”but not otherwise,” I ses.'

As he concluded this story, Cra.s.s drained his gla.s.s and gazed round upon the audience, who were full of admiration. They looked at each other and at Cra.s.s and nodded their heads approvingly. Yes, undoubtedly, that was the proper way to deal with such bounders as Nimrod; take up a strong att.i.tude, an' let 'em see as you'll stand no nonsense!

'Yer don't blame me, do yer?' continued Cra.s.s. 'Why should we put up with a lot of old buck from the likes of 'im! We're not a lot of b.l.o.o.d.y Chinamen, are we?'

So far from blaming him, they all a.s.sured him that they would have acted in precisely the same way under similar circ.u.mstances.

'For my part, I'm a bloke like this,' said a tall man with a very loud voice--a chap who nearly fell down dead every time Rushton or Misery looked at him. 'I'm a bloke like this 'ere: I never stands no cheek from no gaffers! If a guv'nor ses two b.l.o.o.d.y words to me, I downs me tools and I ses to 'im, ”Wot! Don't I suit yer, guv'ner? Ain't I done enuff for yer? Werry good! Gimmie me bleedin' a'pence.”'

'Quite right too,' said everybody. That was the way to serve 'em. If only everyone would do the same as the tall man--who had just paid for another round of drinks--things would be a lot more comfortable than they was.

'Last summer I was workin' for ole Buncer,' said a little man with a cutaway coat several sizes too large for him. 'I was workin' for ole Buncer, over at Windley, an' you all knows as 'e don't arf lower it.

Well, one day, when I knowed 'e was on the drunk, I 'ad to first coat a room out--white; so thinks I to meself, ”If I buck up I shall be able to get this lot done by about four o'clock, an' then I can clear orf 'ome. 'Cos I reckoned as 'e'd be about flattened out by that time, an'

you know 'e ain't got no foreman. So I tears into it an' gets this 'ere room done about a quarter past four, an' I'd just got me things put away for the night w'en 'oo should come fallin' up the b.l.o.o.d.y stairs but ole Buncer, drunk as a howl! An' no sooner 'e gits inter the room than 'e starts yappin' an' rampin'.” ”Is this 'ere hall you've done?” 'e shouts out. ”Wotcher bin up to hall day?” 'e ses, an'

'e keeps on shouting' an' swearin' till at last I couldn't stand it no longer, 'cos you can guess I wasn't in a very good temper with 'im comin' along jist then w'en I thought I was goin' to get orf a bit early--so w'en 'e kept on shoutin' I never made no answer to 'im, but ups with me fist an' I gives 'im a slosh in the dial an' stopped 'is clock! Then I chucked the pot o' w'ite paint hover 'im, an' kicked 'im down the b.l.o.o.d.y stairs.'

'Serve 'im blooming well right, too,' said Cra.s.s as he took a fresh gla.s.s of beer from one of the others, who had just 'stood' another round.

'What did the b--r say to that?' inquired the tall man.

'Not a b.l.o.o.d.y word!' replied the little man, ''E picked 'isself up, and called a keb wot was pa.s.sin' an' got inter it an' went 'ome; an' I never seen no more of 'im until about 'arf-past eleven the next day, w'en I was second-coatin' the room, an' 'e comes up with a noo suit o'

clothes on, an' arsts me if I'd like to come hover to the pub an' 'ave a drink? So we goes hover, an' 'e calls for a w'iskey an' soda for isself an' arsts me wot I'd 'ave, so I 'ad the same. An' w'ile we was gettin' it down us, 'e ses to me, ”Ah, Garge,” 'e ses. ”You losed your temper with me yesterday,”' 'e ses.'

'There you are, you see!' said the tall man. 'There's an example for yer! If you 'adn't served 'im as you did you'd most likely 'ave 'ad to put up with a lot more ole buck.'

They all agreed that the little man had done quite right: they all said that they didn' blame him in the least: they would all have done the same: in fact, this was the way they all conducted themselves whenever occasion demanded it. To hear them talk, one would imagine that such affairs as the recent exploit of Bill Bates and the Semi-drunk were constantly taking place, instead of only occurring about once in a blue moon.

Cra.s.s stood the final round of drinks, and as he evidently thought that circ.u.mstance deserved to be signalized in some special manner, he proposed the following toast, which was drunk with enthusiasm:

'To h.e.l.l with the man, May he never grow fat, What carries two faces, Under one 'at.'

Rushton & Co. did a lot of work that summer. They did not have many big jobs, but there were a lot of little ones, and the boy Bert was kept busy running from one to the other. He spent most of his time dragging a handcart with loads of paint, or planks and steps, and seldom went out to work with the men, for when he was not taking things out to the various places where the philanthropists were working, he was in the paintshop at the yard, sc.r.a.ping out dirty paint-pots or helping Cra.s.s to mix up colours. Although scarcely anyone seemed to notice it, the boy presented a truly pitiable spectacle. He was very pale and thin. Dragging the handcart did not help him to put on flesh, for the weather was very hot and the work made him sweat.

His home was right away on the other side of Windley. It took him more than three-quarters of an hour to walk to the shop, and as he had to be at work at six, that meant that he had to leave home at a few minutes past five every morning, so that he always got up about half past four.

He was wearing a man's coat--or rather jacket--which gave the upper part of his body a bulky appearance. The trousers were part of a suit of his own, and were somewhat narrowly cut, as is the rule with boys'