the ragged trousered philanthropists-第24章

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le　him　to　see　to　serve　out　the　different　lots　of　paints　and　brushes　to　the　men。

‘Yes；　it　do　seem　a　'ell　of　a　long　week；　don't　it？'　remarked　Harlow　as　he　hung　his　overcoat　on　a　nail　and　proceeded　to　put　on　his　apron　and　blouse。　　‘I've　'ad　bloody　near　enough　of　it　already。'

‘Wish　to　Christ　it　was　breakfast…time；'　growled　the　more　easily　satisfied　Easton。

Extraordinary　as　it　may　appear；　none　of　them　took　any　pride　in　their　work：　they　did　not　‘love'　it。　　They　had　no　conception　of　that　lofty　ideal　of　‘work　for　work's　sake'；　which　is　so　popular　with　the　people　who　do　nothing。　　On　the　contrary；　when　the　workers　arrived　in　the　morning　they　wished　it　was　breakfast…time。　　When　they　resumed　work　after　breakfast　they　wished　it　was　dinner…time。　　After　dinner　they　wished　it　was　one　o'clock　on　Saturday。

So　they　went　on；　day　after　day；　year　after　year；　wishing　their　time　was　over　and；　without　realizing　it；　really　wishing　that　they　were　dead。

How　extraordinary　this　must　appear　to　those　idealists　who　believe　in　‘work　for　work's　sake'；　but　who　themselves　do　nothing　but　devour　or　use　and　enjoy　or　waste　the　things　that　are　produced　by　the　labour　of　those　others　who　are　not　themselves　permitted　to　enjoy　a　fair　share　of　the　good　things　they　help　to　create？

Crass　poured　several　lots　of　colour　into　several　pots。

‘Harlow；'　he　said；　‘you　and　Sawkins；　when　he　comes；　can　go　up　and　do　the　top　bedrooms　out　with　this　colour。　　You'll　find　a　couple　of　candles　up　there。　　It's　only　goin'　to　'ave　one　coat；　so　see　that　you　make　it　cover　all　right；　and　just　look　after　Sawkins　a　bit　so　as　'e　doesn't　make　a　bloody　mess　of　it。　　You　do　the　doors　and　windows；　and　let　'im　do　the　cupboards　and　skirtings。'

‘That's　a　bit　of　all　right；　I　must　say；'　Harlow　said；　addressing　the　company　generally。　　‘We've　got　to　teach　a　br　like　'im　so　as　'e　can　do　us　out　of　a　job　presently　by　working　under　price。'

‘Well；　I　can't　'elp　it；'　growled　Crass。　　‘You　know　'ow　it　is：　‘Unter　sends　'im　'ere　to　do　paintin'；　and　I've　got　to　put　'im　on　it。　　There　ain't　nothing　else　for　'im　to　do。'

Further　discussion　on　this　subject　was　prevented　by　Sawkins'　arrival；　nearly　a　quarter　of　an　hour　late。

‘Oh；　you　'ave　come；　then；'　sneered　Crass。　　‘Thought　p'raps　you'd　gorn　for　a　'oliday。'

Sawkins　muttered　something　about　oversleeping　himself；　and　having　hastily　put　on　his　apron；　he　went　upstairs　with　Harlow。

‘Now；　let's　see；'　Crass　said；　addressing　Philpot。　　‘You　and　Newman　'ad　better　go　and　make　a　start　on　the　second　floor：　this　is　the　colour；　and　'ere's　a　couple　of　candles。　　You'd　better　not　both　go　in　one　room　or　'Unter　will　growl　about　it。　　You　take　one　of　the　front　and　let　Newman　take　one　of　the　back　rooms。　　Take　a　bit　of　stoppin'　with　you：　they're　goin'　to　'ave　two　coats；　but　you'd　better　putty　up　the　'oles　as　well　as　you　can；　this　time。'

‘Only　two　coats！'　said　Philpot。　　‘Them　rooms　will　never　look　nothing　with　two　coats　…　a　light　colour　like　this。'

‘It's　only　goin'　to　get　two；　anyway；'　returned　Crass；　testily。　‘'Unter　said　so；　so　you'll　'ave　to　do　the　best　you　can　with　'em；　and　get　'em　smeared　over　middlin'　sudden；　too。'

Crass　did　not　think　it　necessary　to　mention　that　according　to　the　copy　of　the　specification　of　the　work　which　he　had　in　his　pocket　the　rooms　in　question　were　supposed　to　have　four　coats。

Crass　now　turned　to　Owen。

‘There's　that　drorin'…room；'　he　said。　　‘I　don't　know　what's　goin'　to　be　done　with　that　yet。　　I　don't　think　they've　decided　about　it。　Whatever's　to　be　done　to　it　will　be　an　extra；　because　all　that's　said　about　it　in　the　contract　is　to　face　it　up　with　putty　and　give　it　one　coat　of　white。　　So　you　and　Easton　'ad　better　get　on　with　it。'

Slyme　was　busy　softening　some　putty　by　rubbing　and　squeezing　it　between　his　hands。

‘I　suppose　I'd　better　finish　the　room　I　started　on　on　Saturday？'　he　asked。

‘All　right；'　replied　Crass。　　‘Have　you　got　enough　colour？'

‘Yes；'　said　Slyme。

As　he　passed　through　the　kitchen　on　the　way　to　his　work；　Slyme　accosted　Bert；　the　boy；　who　was　engaged　in　lighting；　with　some　pieces　of　wood；　a　fire　to　boil　the　water　to　make　the　tea　for　breakfast　at　eight　o'clock。

‘There's　a　bloater　I　want's　cooked；'　he　said。

‘All　right；'　replied　Bert。　　‘Put　it　over　there　on　the　dresser　along　of　Philpot's　and　mine。'

Slyme　took　the　bloater　from　his　food　basket；　but　as　he　was　about　to　put　it　in　the　place　indicated；　he　observed　that　his　was　rather　a　larger　one　than　either　of　the　other　two。　　This　was　an　important　matter。　　After　they　were　cooked　it　would　not　be　easy　to　say　which　was　which：　he　might　possibly　be　given　one　of　the　smaller　ones　instead　of　his　own。　　He　took　out　his　pocket　knife　and　cut　off　the　tail　of　the　large　bloater。

‘'Ere　it　is；　then；'　he　said　to　Bert。　　‘I've　cut　the　tail　of　mine　so　as　you'll　know　which　it　is。'

It　was　now　about　twenty　minutes　past　seven　and　all　the　other　men　having　been　started　at　work；　Crass　washed　his　hands　under　the　tap。　Then　he　went　into　the　kitchen　and　having　rigged　up　a　seat　by　taking　two　of　the　drawers　out　of　the　dresser　and　placing　them　on　the　floor　about　six　feet　apart　and　laying　a　plank　across；　he　sat　down　in　front　of　the　fire；　which　was　now　burning　brightly　under　the　pail；　and；　lighting　his　pipe；　began　to　smoke。　　The　boy　went　into　the　scullery　and　began　washing　up　the　cups　and　jars　for　the　men　to　drink　out　of。

Bert　was　a　lean；　undersized　boy　about　fifteen　years　of　age　and　about　four　feet　nine　inches　in　height。　　He　had　light　brown　hair　and　hazel　grey　eyes；　and　his　clothes　were　of　many　colours；　being　thickly　encrusted　with　paint；　the　result　of　the　unskillful　manner　in　which　he　did　his　work；　for　he　had　only　been　at　the　trade　about　a　year。　　Some　of　the　men　had　nicknamed　him　‘the　walking　paint…shop'；　a　title　which　Bert　accepted　good…humouredly。

This　boy　was　an　orphan。　　His　father　had　been　a　railway　porter　who　had　worked　very　laboriously　for　twelve　or　fourteen　hours　every　day　for　many　years；　with　the　usual　result；　namely；　that　he　and　his　family　lived　in　a　condition　of　perpetual　poverty。　　Bert；　who　was　their　only　child　and　not　very　robust；　had　early　shown　a　talent　for　drawing；　so　when　his　father　died　a　little　over　a　year　ago；　his　mother　readily　assented　when　the　boy　said　that　he　wished　to　become　a　decorator。　　It　was　a　nice　light　trade；　and　she　thought　that　a　really　good　painter；　such　as　she　was　sure　he　would　become；　was　at　least　always　able　to　earn　a　good　living。　　Resolving　to　give　the　boy　the　best　possible　chance；　she　decided　if　possible　to　place　him　at　Rushton's；　that　being　one　of　the　leading　firms　in　the　town。　　At　first　Mr　Rushton　demanded　ten　pounds　as　a　premium；　the　boy　to　be　bound　for　five　years；　no　wages　the　first　year；　two　shillings　a　week　the　second；　and　a　rise　of　one　shilling　every　year　for　the　remainder　of　the　term。　　Afterwards；　as　a　special　favour　…　a　matter　of　charity；　in　fact；　as　she　was　a　very　poor　woman　…　he　agreed　to　accept　five　pounds。

This　sum　represented　the　thrifty　savings　of　years；　but　the　poor　woman　parted　with　it　willingly　in　order　that　the　boy　should　become　a　skilled　workman。　　So　Bert　was　apprenticed　…　bound　for　five　years　…　to　Rushton　&　Co。

For　the　first　few　months　his　life　had　been　spent　in　the　paint…shop　at　the　yard；　a　place　that　was　something　between　a　cellar　and　a　stable。　There；　surrounded　by　the　poisonous　pigments　and　materials　of　the　trade；　the　youthful　artisan　worked；　generally　alone；　cleaning　the　dirty　paint…pots　brought　in　by　the　workmen　from　finished　‘jobs'　outside；　and　occasionally　mixing　paint　according　to　the　instructions　of　Mr　Hunter；　or　one　of　the　sub…foremen。

Sometimes　he　was　sent　out　to　carry　materials　to　the　places　where　the　men　were　working　…　heavy　loads　of　paint　or　white　lead　…　sometimes　pails　of　whitewash　that　his　slender　arms　had　been　too　feeble　to　carry　more　than　a　few　yards　at　a　time。

Often　his　fragile；　childish　figure　was　seen　staggering　manfully　along；　bending　beneath　the　weight　of　a　pair　of　steps　or　a　heavy　plank。

He　could　manage　a　good　many　parcels　at　once：　some　in　each　hand　and　some　tied　together　with　string　and　slung　over　his　shoulders。　Occasionally；　however；　there　were　more　than　he　could　carry；　then　they　were　put　into　a　handcart　which　he　pushed　or　dragged　after　him　to　the　distant　jobs。

That　first　winter