the ragged trousered philanthropists-第2节

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At　this　revelation；　some　of　the　men　furtively　exchanged　significant　glances；　and　Crass；　the　foreman；　became　very　red。

‘You'd　better　keep　your　bloody　thruppence　and　make　your　own　tea　after　this　week；'　he　said；　addressing　Sawkins；　‘and　then　p'raps　we'll　'ave　a　little　peace　at　meal…times。'

‘An'　you　needn't　ask　me　to　cook　no　bloaters　or　bacon　for　you　no　more；'　added　Bert；　tearfully；　‘cos　I　won't　do　it。'

Sawkins　was　not　popular　with　any　of　the　others。　　When；　about　twelve　months　previously；　he　first　came　to　work　for　Rushton　&　Co。；　he　was　a　simple　labourer；　but　since　then　he　had　‘picked　up'　a　slight　knowledge　of　the　trade；　and　having　armed　himself　with　a　putty…knife　and　put　on　a　white　jacket；　regarded　himself　as　a　fully　qualified　painter。　　The　others　did　not　perhaps　object　to　him　trying　to　better　his　condition；　but　his　wages　…　fivepence　an　hour　…　were　twopence　an　hour　less　than　the　standard　rate；　and　the　result　was　that　in　slack　times　often　a　better　workman　was　‘stood　off'　when　Sawkins　was　kept　on。　　Moreover；　he　was　generally　regarded　as　a　sneak　who　carried　tales　to　the　foreman　and　the　‘Bloke'。　　Every　new　hand　who　was　taken　on　was　usually　warned　by　his　new　mates　‘not　to　let　the　br　Sawkins　see　anything。'

The　unpleasant　silence　which　now　ensued　was　at　length　broken　by　one　of　the　men；　who　told　a　dirty　story；　and　in　the　laughter　and　applause　that　followed；　the　incident　of　the　tea　was　forgotten。

‘How　did　you　get　on　yesterday？'　asked　Crass；　addressing　Bundy；　the　plasterer；　who　was　intently　studying　the　sporting　columns　of　the　Daily　Obscurer。

‘No　luck；'　replied　Bundy；　gloomily。　‘I　had　a　bob　each　way　on　Stockwell；　in　the　first　race；　but　it　was　scratched　before　the　start。'

This　gave　rise　to　a　conversation　between　Crass；　Bundy；　and　one　or　two　others　concerning　the　chances　of　different　horses　in　the　morrow's　races。　　It　was　Friday；　and　no　one　had　much　money；　so　at　the　suggestion　of　Bundy；　a　Syndicate　was　formed；　each　member　contributing　threepence　for　the　purpose　of　backing　a　dead　certainty　given　by　the　renowned　Captain　Kiddem　of　the　Obscurer。　　One　of　those　who　did　not　join　the　syndicate　was　Frank　Owen；　who　was　as　usual　absorbed　in　a　newspaper。　He　was　generally　regarded　as　a　bit　of　a　crank：　for　it　was　felt　that　there　must　be　something　wrong　about　a　man　who　took　no　interest　in　racing　or　football　and　was　always　talking　a　lot　of　rot　about　religion　and　politics。　　If　it　had　not　been　for　the　fact　that　he　was　generally　admitted　to　be　an　exceptionally　good　workman；　they　would　have　had　little　hesitation　about　thinking　that　he　was　mad。　　This　man　was　about　thirty…two　years　of　age；　and　of　medium　height；　but　so　slightly　built　that　he　appeared　taller。　　There　was　a　suggestion　of　refinement　in　his　clean…shaven　face；　but　his　complexion　was　ominously　clear；　and　an　unnatural　colour　flushed　the　think　cheeks。

There　was　a　certain　amount　of　justification　for　the　attitude　of　his　fellow　workmen；　for　Owen　held　the　most　unusual　and　unorthodox　opinions　on　the　subjects　mentioned。

The　affairs　of　the　world　are　ordered　in　accordance　with　orthodox　opinions。　　If　anyone　did　not　think　in　accordance　with　these　he　soon　discovered　this　fact　for　himself。　　Owen　saw　that　in　the　world　a　small　class　of　people　were　possessed　of　a　great　abundance　and　superfluity　of　the　things　that　are　produced　by　work。　　He　saw　also　that　a　very　great　number　…　in　fact　the　majority　of　the　people　…　lived　on　the　verge　of　want；　and　that　a　smaller　but　still　very　large　number　lived　lives　of　semi…starvation　from　the　cradle　to　the　grave；　while　a　yet　smaller　but　still　very　great　number　actually　died　of　hunger；　or；　maddened　by　privation；　killed　themselves　and　their　children　in　order　to　put　a　period　to　their　misery。　　And　strangest　of　all　…　in　his　opinion　…　he　saw　that　people　who　enjoyed　abundance　of　the　things　that　are　made　by　work；　were　the　people　who　did　Nothing：　and　that　the　others；　who　lived　in　want　or　died　of　hunger；　were　the　people　who　worked。　　And　seeing　all　this　he　thought　that　it　was　wrong；　that　the　system　that　produced　such　results　was　rotten　and　should　be　altered。　　And　he　had　sought　out　and　eagerly　read　the　writings　of　those　who　thought　they　knew　how　it　might　be　done。

It　was　because　he　was　in　the　habit　of　speaking　of　these　subjects　that　his　fellow　workmen　came　to　the　conclusion　that　there　was　probably　something　wrong　with　his　mind。

When　all　the　members　of　the　syndicate　had　handed　over　their　contributions；　Bundy　went　out　to　arrange　matters　with　the　bookie；　and　when　he　had　gone　Easton　annexed　the　copy　of　the　Obscurer　that　Bundy　had　thrown　away；　and　proceeded　to　laboriously　work　through　some　carefully　cooked　statistics　relating　to　Free　Trade　and　Protection。　Bert；　his　eyes　starting　out　of　his　head　and　his　mouth　wide　open；　was　devouring　the　contents　of　a　paper　called　The　Chronicles　of　Crime。　　Ned　Dawson；　a　poor　devil　who　was　paid　fourpence　an　hour　for　acting　as　mate　or　labourer　to　Bundy；　or　the　bricklayers；　or　anyone　else　who　wanted　him；　lay　down　on　the　dirty　floor　in　a　corner　of　the　room　and　with　his　coat　rolled　up　as　a　pillow；　went　to　sleep。　　Sawkins；　with　the　same　intention；　stretched　himself　at　full　length　on　the　dresser。　　Another　who　took　no　part　in　the　syndicate　was　Barrington；　a　labourer；　who；　having　finished　his　dinner；　placed　the　cup　he　brought　for　his　tea　back　into　his　dinner　basket；　took　out　an　old　briar　pipe　which　he　slowly　filled；　and　proceeded　to　smoke　in　silence。

Some　time　previously　the　firm　had　done　some　work　for　a　wealthy　gentleman　who　lived　in　the　country；　some　distance　outside　Mugsborough。　This　gentleman　also　owned　some　property　in　the　town　and　it　was　commonly　reported　that　he　had　used　his　influence　with　Rushton　to　induce　the　latter　to　give　Barrington　employment。　　It　was　whispered　amongst　the　hands　that　the　young　man　was　a　distant　relative　of　the　gentleman's；　and　that　he　had　disgraced　himself　in　some　way　and　been　disowned　by　his　people。　　Rushton　was　supposed　to　have　given　him　a　job　in　the　hope　of　currying　favour　with　his　wealthy　client；　from　whom　he　hoped　to　obtain　more　work。　　Whatever　the　explanation　of　the　mystery　may　have　been；　the　fact　remained　that　Barrington；　who　knew　nothing　of　the　work　except　what　he　had　learned　since　he　had　been　taken　on；　was　employed　as　a　painter's　labourer　at　the　usual　wages　…　fivepence　per　hour。

He　was　about　twenty…five　years　of　age　and　a　good　deal　taller　than　the　majority　of　the　others；　being　about　five　feet　ten　inches　in　height　and　slenderly　though　well　and　strongly　built。　　He　seemed　very　anxious　to　learn　all　that　he　could　about　the　trade；　and　although　rather　reserved　in　his　manner；　he　had　contrived　to　make　himself　fairly　popular　with　his　workmates。　　He　seldom　spoke　unless　to　answer　when　addressed；　and　it　was　difficult　to　draw　him　into　conversation。　　At　meal…times；　as　on　the　present　occasion；　he　generally　smoked；　apparently　lost　in　thought　and　unconscious　of　his　surroundings。

Most　of　the　others　also　lit　their　pipes　and　a　desultory　conversation　ensued。

‘Is　the　gent　what's　bought　this　'ouse　any　relation　to　Sweater　the　draper？'　asked　Payne；　the　carpenter's　foreman。

‘It's　the　same　bloke；'　replied　Crass。

‘Didn't　he　used　to　be　on　the　Town　Council　or　something？'

‘'E's　bin　on　the　Council　for　years；'　returned　Crass。　　‘'E's　on　it　now。　'E's　mayor　this　year。　　'E's　bin　mayor　several　times　before。'

‘Let's　see；'　said　Payne；　reflectively；　‘'e　married　old　Grinder's　sister；　didn't　'e？　　You　know　who　I　mean；　Grinder　the　greengrocer。'

‘Yes；　I　believe　he　did；'　said　Crass。

‘It　wasn't　Grinder's　sister；'　chimed　in　old　Jack　Linden。　　‘It　was　'is　niece。　　I　know；　because　I　remember　working　in　their　'ouse　just　after　they　was　married；　about　ten　year　ago。'

‘Oh　yes；　I　remember　now；'　said　Payne。　　‘She　used　to　manage　one　of　Grinder's　branch　shops　didn't　she？'

‘Yes；'　replied　Linden。　　‘I　remember　it　very　well　because　there　was　a　lot　of　talk　about　it　at　the　time。　　By　all　accounts；　ole　Sweater　used　to　be　a　regler　'ot　un：　no　one　never　thought　as　he'd　ever　git　married　at　all：　there　was　some　funny　yarns　　about　several　young　women　what　used　to　work　for　him。'

This　important　matter　being　disposed　of；　there　followed　a　brief　silence；　which　was　presently　broken　by　Harlow。

‘Funny　name　to　call　a　'ouse；　ain't　it？'　he　said。　　‘〃The　Cave。〃　　I　wonder　what　made　'em　give　it　a　name　like　that。'

‘They　calls　'em　all　sorts　of　outlandish　names　nowadays；'　said　old　Jack　Linden。

‘There's　generally　some　sort　of　meaning　to　it；　though；'　observed　Payne。　　‘For　instance；　if　a　bloke　backed　a　winner　and　made　a　pile；　'e　might　call　'is　'ouse；　〃Epsom　Lodge〃　or　〃Newmarket　Villa〃。'

‘Or　sometimes　there's　a　hoak　tree　or　a　cherry　tree　in　the　garding；'　said　another　man；　‘then　they　calls　it　〃Hoak　Lodge〃　or　〃Cherry　Cottage〃。'

‘Well；　there's　a　cave　up　at　the　end　of　this　garden；'　said　Harlow　with　a　grin；　‘you　know；　the　cesspool；　what　the　drains　of　the　'ouse　runs　into；　praps　they　called　it　after　that。'

‘Talking　about　the　drains；'　said　old　Jack　Linden　when　the　laughter　produced　by　this　elegant　joke　had　ceased。　　‘Talking　about　the　drains；　I　wonder　what　they're　going　to　do　about　them；　the　'ouse　ain't　fit　to　live　in　as　they　are　now；　and　as　for　that　bloody　cesspool　it　ought　to　be　done　away　with。'

‘So　it　is　going　to　be；'　replied　Crass。　　‘There's　going　to　be　a　new　set　of　drai