Books: The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists

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Whilst the chairman was trying to get the attention of the meeting in
order to put the question, Bundy had become involved in an argument
with several of the new hands who claimed to know of an even better
place than the Queen Elizabeth, a pub called `The New Found Out', at
Mirkfield, a few miles further on than Tubberton, and another
individual joined in the dispute, alleging that a house called `The
Three Loggerheads' at Slushton-cum-Dryditch was the finest place for a
Beano within a hundred miles of Mugsborough. He went there last year
with Pushem and Driver's crowd, and they had roast beef, goose, jam
tarts, mince pies, sardines, blancmange, calves' feet jelly and one
pint for each man was included in the cost of the dinner. In the
middle of the discussion, they noticed that most of the others were
holding up their hands, so to show there was no ill feeling they held
up theirs also and then the chairman declared it was carried
unanimously.

Bundy said he would like to ask the chairman to read out the
resolution which had just been passed, as he had not caught the words.

The chairman replied that there was no written resolution. The motion
was just to express the feeling of this meeting as to whether there
was to be an outing or not.

Bundy said he was only asking a civil question, a point of
information: all he wanted to know was, what was the terms of the
resolution? Was they in favour of the Beano or not?

The chairman responded that the meeting was unanimously in favour.
(Applause.)

Harlow said that the next thing to be done was to decide upon the
date. Crass suggested the last Saturday in August. That would give
them plenty of time to pay in.

Sawkins asked whether it was proposed to have a day or only half a
day. He himself was in favour of the whole day. It would only mean
losing a morning's work. It was hardly worth going at all if they
only had half the day.

The Semi-drunk remarked that he had just thought of a very good place
to go if they decided to have a change. Three years ago he was
working for Dauber and Botchit and they went to `The First In and the
Last Out' at Bashford. It was a very small place, but there was a
field where you could have a game of cricket or football, and the
dinner was A1 at Lloyds. There was also a skittle alley attached to
the pub and no charge was made for the use of it. There was a bit of
a river there, and one of the chaps got so drunk that he went orf his
onion and jumped into the water, and when they got him out the village
policeman locked him up, and the next day he was took before the beak
and fined two pounds or a month's hard labour for trying to commit
suicide.

Easton pointed out that there was another way to look at it: supposing
they decided to have the Beano, he supposed it would come to about six
shillings a head. If they had it at the end of August and started
paying in now, say a tanner a week, they would have plenty of time to
make up the amount, but supposing the work fell off and some of them
got the push?

Crass said that in that case a man could either have his money back or
he could leave it, and continue his payments even if he were working
for some other firm; the fact that he was off from Rushton's would not
prevent him from going to the Beano.

Harlow proposed that they decide to go to the Queen Elizabeth the same
as last year, and that they have half a day.

Philpot said that, in order to get on with the business, he would
second the resolution.

Bundy suggested - as an amendment -. that it should be a whole day,
starting from the Cricketers at nine in the morning, and Sawkins said
that, in order to get on with the business, he would second the
amendment.

One of the new hands said he wished to move another amendment. He
proposed to strike out the Queen Elizabeth and substitute the Three
Loggerheads.

The Chairman - after a pause - inquired if there were any seconder to
this, and the Semi-drunk said that, although he did not care much
where they went, still, to get on with the business, he would second
the amendment, although for his own part he would prefer to go to the
`First In and Last Out' at Bashford.

The new hand offered to withdraw his suggestion re the Three
Loggerheads in favour of the Semi-drunks proposition, but the latter
said it didn't matter; it could go as it was.

As it was getting rather late, several men went home, and cries of
`Put the question' began to be heard on all sides; the chairman
accordingly was proceeding to put Harlow's proposition when the new
hand interrupted him by pointing out that it was his duty as chairman
to put the amendments first. This produced another long discussion,
in the course of which a very tall, thin man who had a harsh, metallic
voice gave a long rambling lecture about the rules of order and the
conduct of public meetings. He spoke very slowly and deliberately,
using very long words and dealing with the subject in an exhaustive
manner. A resolution was a resolution, and an amendment was an
amendment; then there was what was called an amendment to an
amendment; the procedure of the House of Commons differed very
materially from that of the House of Lords - and so on.

This man kept on talking for about ten minutes, and might have
continued for ten hours if he had not been rudely interrupted by
Harlow, who said that it seemed to him that they were likely to stay
there all night if they went on like they were going. He wanted his
tea, and he would also like to get a few hours' sleep before having to
resume work in the morning. He was getting about sick of all this
talk. (Hear, hear.) In order to get on with the business, he would
withdraw his resolution if the others would withdraw their amendments.
If they would agree to do this, he would then propose another
resolution which - if carried - would meet all the requirements of the
case. (Applause.)

The man with the metallic voice observed that it was not necessary to
ask the consent of those who had moved amendments: if the original
proposition was withdrawed, all the amendments fell to the ground.

`Last year,' observed Crass, `when we was goin' out of the room after
we'd finished our dinner at the Queen Elizabeth, the landlord pointed
to the table and said, "There's enough left over for you all to 'ave
another lot."' (Cheers.)

Harlow said that he would move that it be held on the last Saturday in
August; that it be for half a day, starting at one o'clock so that
they could work up till twelve, which would mean that they would only
have to lose one hour's pay: that they go to the same place as last
year - the Queen Elizabeth. (Hear, hear.) That the same committee
that acted last year - Crass and Bundy - be appointed to make all the
arrangements and collect the subscriptions. (Applause.)

The tall man observed that this was what was called a compound
resolution, and was proceeding to explain further when the chairman
exclaimed that it did not matter a dam' what it was called - would
anyone second it? The Semi-drunk said that he would - in order to get
on with the business.

Bundy moved, and Sawkins seconded, as an amendment, that it should be
a whole day.

The new hand moved to substitute the Loggerheads for the Queen
Elizabeth.

Easton proposed to substitute Madame Tussaud's Waxworks for the Queen
Elizabeth. He said he moved this just to test the feeling of the
meeting.

Harlow pointed out that it would cost at least a pound a head to
defray the expenses of such a trip. The railway fares, tram fares in
London, meals - for it would be necessary to have a whole day - and
other incidental expenses; to say nothing of the loss of wages. It
would not be possible for any of them to save the necessary amount
during the next four months. (Hear, hear.)

Philpot repeated his warning as to the danger of visiting Madame
Tussaud's. He was certain that if she once got them in there she
would never let them out again. He had no desire to pass the rest of
his life as an image in a museum.

One of the new hands - a man with a red tie - said that they would
look well, after having been soaked for a month or two in petrifying
liquid, chained up in the Chamber of Horrors with labels round their
necks - `Specimens of Liberal and Conservative upholders of the
Capitalist System, 20 century'.

Crass protested against the introduction of politics into that
meeting. (Hear, hear.) The remarks of the last speakers were most
uncalled-for.

Easton said that he would withdraw his amendment.

Acting under the directions of the man with the metallic voice, the
chairman now proceeded to put the amendment to the vote. Bundy's
proposal that it should be a whole day was defeated, only himself,
Sawkins and the Semi-drunk being in favour. The motion to substitute
the Loggerheads for the Queen Elizabeth was also defeated, and the
compound resolution proposed by Harlow was then carried nem. con.

Philpot now proposed a hearty vote of thanks to the chairman for the
very able manner in which he had conducted the meeting. When this had
been unanimously agreed to, the Semi-drunk moved a similar tribute of
gratitude to Crass for his services to the cause and the meeting
dispersed.

Chapter 42

June

During the early part of May the weather was exceptionally bad, with
bitterly cold winds. Rain fell nearly every day, covering the roads
with a slush that penetrated the rotten leather of the cheap or
second-hand boots worn by the workmen. This weather had the effect of
stopping nearly all outside work, and also caused a lot of illness,
for those who were so fortunate as to have inside jobs frequently got
wet through on their way to work in the morning and had to work all
day in damp clothing, and with their boots saturated with water. It
was also a source of trouble to those of the men who had allotments,
because if it had been fine they would have been able to do something
to their gardens while they were out of work.

Newman had not succeeded in getting a job at the trade since he came
out of prison, but he tried to make a little money by hawking bananas.
Philpot - when he was at work - used often to buy a tanner's or a
bob's worth from him and give them to Mrs Linden's children. On
Saturdays Old Joe used to waylay these children and buy them bags of
cakes at the bakers. One week when he knew that Mrs Linden had not
had much work to do, he devised a very cunning scheme to help her. He
had been working with Slyme, who was papering a large boarded ceiling
in a shop. It had to be covered with unbleached calico before it
could be papered and when the work was done there were a number of
narrow pieces of calico left over. These he collected and tore into
strips about six inches wide which he took round to Mrs Linden, and
asked her to sew them together, end to end, so as to make one long
strip: then this long strip had to be cut into four pieces of equal
length and the edges sewn together in such a manner that it would form
a long tube. Philpot told her that it was required for some work that
Rushton's were doing, and said he had undertaken to get the sewing
done. The firm would have to pay for it, so she could charge a good
price.

`You see,' he said with a wink, `this is one of those jobs where we
gets a chance to get some of our own back.'

Mary thought it was rather a strange sort of job, but she did as
Philpot directed and when he came for the stuff and asked how much it
was she said threepence: it had only taken about half an hour.
Philpot ridiculed this: it was not nearly enough. THEY were not
supposed to know how long it took: it ought to be a bob at the very
least. So, after some hesitation she made out a bill for that amount
on a half-sheet of note-paper. He brought her the money the next
Saturday afternoon and went off chuckling to himself over the success
of the scheme. It did not occur to him until the next day that he
might just as well have got her to make him an apron or two: and when
he did think of this he said that after all it didn't matter, because
if he had done that it would have been necessary to buy new calico,
and anyhow, it could be done some other time.

Newman did not make his fortune out of the bananas - seldom more than
two shillings a day - and consequently he was very glad when Philpot
called at his house one evening and told him there was a chance of a
job at Rushton's. Newman accordingly went to the yard the next
morning, taking his apron and blouse and his bag of tools with him,
ready to start work. He got there at about quarter to six and was
waiting outside when Hunter arrived. The latter was secretly very
glad to see him, for there was a rush of work in and they were short
of men. He did not let this appear, of course, but hesitated for a
few minutes when Newman repeated the usual formula: `Any chance of a
job, sir?'

`We wasn't at all satisfied with you last time you was on, you know,'
said Misery. `Still, I don't mind giving you another chance. But if
you want to hold your job you'll have to move yourself a bit quicker
than you did before.'

Towards the end of the month things began to improve all round. The
weather became finer and more settled. As time went on the
improvement was maintained and nearly everyone was employed.
Rushton's were so busy that they took on several other old hands who
had been sacked the previous year for being too slow.

Thanks to the influence of Crass, Easton was now regarded as one of
the regular hands. He had recently resumed the practice of spending
some of his evenings at the Cricketers. It is probable that even if
it had not been for his friendship with Crass, he would still have
continued to frequent the public house, for things were not very
comfortable at home. Somehow or other, Ruth and he seemed to be
always quarrelling, and he was satisfied that it was not always his
fault. Sometimes, after the day's work was over he would go home
resolved to be good friends with her: he would plan on his way
homewards to suggest to her that they should have their tea and then
go out for a walk with the child. Once or twice she agreed, but on
each occasion, they quarrelled before they got home again. So after a
time he gave up trying to be friends with her and went out by himself
every evening as soon as he had had his tea.

Mary Linden, who was still lodging with them, could not help
perceiving their unhappiness: she frequently noticed that Ruth's eyes
were red and swollen as if with crying, and she gently sought to gain
her confidence, but without success. On one occasion when Mary was
trying to advise her, Ruth burst out into a terrible fit of weeping,
but she would not say what was the cause - except that her head was
aching - she was not well, that was all.

Sometimes Easton passed the evening at the Cricketers but frequently
he went over to the allotments, where Harlow had a plot of ground.
Harlow used to get up about four o'clock in the morning and put in an
hour or so at his garden before going to work; and every evening as
soon as he had finished tea he used to go there again and work till it
was dark. Sometimes he did not go home to tea at all, but went
straight from work to the garden, and his children used to bring his
tea to him there in a glass bottle, with something to eat in a little
basket. He had four children, none of whom were yet old enough to go
to work, and as may be imagined, he found it a pretty hard struggle to
live. He was not a teetotaller, but as he often remarked, `what the
publicans got from him wouldn't make them very fat', for he often went
for weeks together without tasting the stuff, except a glass or two
with the Sunday dinner, which he did not regard as an unnecessary
expense, because it was almost as cheap as tea or coffee.

Fortunately his wife was a good needlewoman, and as sober and
industrious as himself; by dint of slaving incessantly from morning
till night she managed to keep her home fairly comfortable and the
children clean and decently dressed; they always looked respectable,
although they did not always have enough proper food to eat. They
looked so respectable that none of the `visiting ladies' ever regarded
them as deserving cases.

Harlow paid fifteen shillings a year for his plot of ground, and
although it meant a lot of hard work it was also a source of pleasure
and some profit. He generally made a few shillings out of the
flowers, besides having enough potatoes and other vegetables to last
them nearly all the year.

Sometimes Easton went over to the allotments and lent Harlow a hand
with this gardening work, but whether he went there or to the
Cricketers, he usually returned home about half past nine, and then
went straight to bed, often without speaking a single word to Ruth,
who for her part seldom spoke to him except to answer something he
said, or to ask some necessary question. At first, Easton used to
think that it was all because of the way he had behaved to her in the
public house, but when he apologized - as he did several times - and
begged her to forgive him and forget about it, she always said it was
all right; there was nothing to forgive. Then, after a time, he began
to think it was on account of their poverty and the loss of their
home, for nearly all their furniture had been sold during the last
winter. But whenever he talked of trying to buy some more things to
make the place comfortable again, she did not appear to take any
interest: the house was neat enough as it was: they could manage very
well, she said, indifferently.

One evening, about the middle of June, when he had been over to the
allotments, Easton brought her home a bunch of flowers that Harlow had
given him - some red and white roses and some pansies. When he came
in, Ruth was packing his food basket for the next day. The baby was
asleep in its cot on the floor near the window. Although it was
nearly nine o'clock the lamp had not yet been lighted and the mournful
twilight that entered the room through the open window increased the
desolation of its appearance. The fire had burnt itself out and the
grate was filled with ashes. On the hearth was an old rug made of
jute that had once been printed in bright colours which had faded away
till the whole surface had become almost uniformly drab, showing
scarcely any trace of the original pattern. The rest of the floor was
bare except for two or three small pieces of old carpet that Ruth had
bought for a few pence at different times at some inferior second-hand
shop. The chairs and the table were almost the only things that were
left of the original furniture of the room, and except for three or
four plates of different patterns and sizes and a few cups and
saucers, the shelves of the dresser were bare.

The stillness of the atmosphere was disturbed only by the occasional
sound of the wheels of a passing vehicle and the strangely distinct
voices of some children who were playing in the street.

`I've brought you these,' said Easton, offering her the flowers. `I
thought you'd like them. I got them from Harlow. You know I've been
helping him a little with his garden.'

At first he thought she did not want to take them. She was standing
at the table with her back to the window, so that he was unable to see
the expression of her face, and she hesitated for a moment before she
faltered out some words of thanks and took the flowers, which she put
down on the table almost as soon as she touched them.

Offended at what he considered her contemptuous indifference, Easton
made no further attempt at conversation but went into the scullery to
wash his hands, and then went up to bed.

Downstairs, for a long time after he was gone, Ruth sat alone by the
fireless grate, in the silence and the gathering shadows, holding the
bunch of flowers in her hand, living over again the events of the last
year, and consumed with an agony of remorse.

The presence of Mary Linden and the two children in the house probably
saved Ruth from being more unhappy than she was. Little Elsie had
made an arrangement with her to be allowed to take the baby out for
walks, and in return Ruth did Elsie's housework. As for Mary, she had
not much time to do anything but sew, almost the only relaxation she
knew being when she took the work home, and on Sunday, which she
usually devoted to a general clean-up of the room, and to mending the
children's clothes. Sometimes on Sunday evening she used to go with
Ruth and the children to see Mrs Owen, who, although she was not ill
enough to stay in bed, seldom went out of the house. She had never
really recovered from the attack of illness which was brought on by
her work at the boarding house. The doctor had been to see her once
or twice and had prescribed - rest. She was to lie down as much as
possible, not to do any heavy work - not to carry or lift any heavy
articles, scrub floors, make beds, or anything of that sort: and she
was to take plenty of nourishing food, beef tea, chicken, a little
wine and so on. He did not suggest a trip round the world in a steam
yacht or a visit to Switzerland - perhaps he thought they might not be
able to afford it. Sometimes she was so ill that she had to observe
one at least of the doctor's instructions - to lie down: and then she
would worry and fret because she was not able to do the housework and
because Owen had to prepare his own tea when he came home at night.
On one of these occasions it would have been necessary for Owen to
stay at home from work if it had not been for Mrs Easton, who came for
several days in succession to look after her and attend to the house.

Fortunately, Owen's health was better since the weather had become
warmer. For a long time after the attack of haemorrhage he had while
writing the show-card he used to dread going to sleep at night for
fear it should recur. He had heard of people dying in their sleep
from that cause. But this terror gradually left him. Nora knew
nothing of what occurred that night: to have told her would have done
no good, but on the contrary would have caused her a lot of useless
anxiety. Sometimes he doubted whether it was right not to tell her,
but as time went by and his health continued to improve he was glad he
had said nothing about it.

Frankie had lately resumed his athletic exercises with the flat iron:
his strength was returning since Owen had been working regularly,
because he had been having his porridge and milk again and also some
Parrish's Food which a chemist at Windley was selling large bottles of
for a shilling. He used to have what he called a `party' two or three
times a week with Elsie, Charley and Easton's baby as the guests.
Sometimes, if Mrs Owen were not well, Elsie used to stay in with her
after tea and do some housework while the boys went out to play, but
more frequently the four children used to go together to the park to
play or sail boats on the lake. Once one of the boats was becalmed
about a couple of yards from shore and while trying to reach it with a
stick Frankie fell into the water, and when Charley tried to drag him
out he fell in also. Elsie put the baby down on the bank and seized
hold of Charley and while she was trying to get him out, the baby
began rolling down, and would probably have tumbled in as well if a
man who happened to be passing by had not rushed up in time to prevent
it. Fortunately the water at that place was only about two feet deep,
so the boys were not much the worse for their ducking. They returned
home wet through, smothered with mud, and feeling very important, like
boys who had distinguished themselves.

After this, whenever she could manage to spare the time, Ruth Easton
used to go with the children to the park. There was a kind of
summer-house near the shore of the lake, only a few feet away from the
water's edge, surrounded and shaded by trees, whose branches arched
over the path and drooped down to the surface of the water. While the
children played Ruth used to sit in this arbour and sew, but often her
work was neglected and forgotten as she gazed pensively at the water,
which just there looked very still, and dark, and deep, for it was
sheltered from the wind and over-shadowed by the trees that lined the
banks at the end of the lake.

Sometimes, if it happened to be raining, instead of going out the
children used to have some games in the house. On one such occasion
Frankie produced the flat iron and went through the exercise, and
Charley had a go as well. But although he was slightly older and
taller than Frankie he could not lift the iron so often or hold it out
so long as the other, a failure that Frankie attributed to the fact
that Charley had too much tea and bread and butter instead of porridge
and milk and Parrish's Food. Charley was so upset about his lack of
strength that he arranged with Frankie to come home with him the next
day after school to see his mother about it. Mrs Linden had a flat
iron, so they gave a demonstration of their respective powers before
her. Mrs Easton being also present, by request, because Frankie said
that the diet in question was suitable for babies as well as big
children. He had been brought up on it ever since he could remember,
and it was almost as cheap as bread and butter and tea.