The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists [59]
mouth and his tongue had become quite parched from terror and he was unable to articulate a single word.
`You know, that's not the way to get on in life, my boy,' observed Sweater lifting his forefinger and shaking his fat head reproachfully.
`Get along with you at once!' Rushton said, roughly. `I'm surprised at yer! The idear! Sitting down in my time!'
This was quite true. Rushton was not merely angry, but astonished at the audacity of the boy. That anyone in his employment should dare to have the impertinence to sit down in his time was incredible.
The boy lifted the handle of the cart and once more began to push it up the hill. It seemed heavier now that ever, but he managed to get on somehow. He kept glancing back after Rushton and Sweater, who presently turned a corner and were lost to view: then he ran the cart to the kerb again to have a breathe. He couldn't have kept up much further without a spell even if they had still been watching him, but he didn't rest for more than about half a minute this time, because he was afraid they might be peeping round the corner at him.
After this he gave up the lamp-post system and halted for a minute or so at regular short intervals. In this way, he at length reached the top of the hill, and with a sigh of relief congratulated himself that the journey was practically over.
Just before he arrived at the gate of the house, he saw Hunter sneak out and mount his bicycle and ride away. Bert wheeled his cart up to the front door and began carrying in the things. Whilst thus engaged he noticed Philpot peeping cautiously over the banisters of the staircase, and called out to him:
`Give us a hand with this bucket of whitewash, will yer, Joe?'
`Certainly, me son, with the greatest of hagony,' replied Philpot as he hurried down the stairs.
As they were carrying it in Philpot winked at Bert and whispered:
`Did yer see Pontius Pilate anywheres outside?'
`'E went away on 'is bike just as I come in at the gate.'
`Did 'e? Thank Gord for that! I don't wish 'im no 'arm,' said Philpot, fervently, `but I 'opes 'e gets runned over with a motor.'
In this wish Bert entirely concurred, and similar charitable sentiments were expressed by all the others as soon as they heard that Misery was gone.
Just before four o'clock that afternoon Bert began to load up the truck with the venetian blinds, which had been taken down some days previously.
`I wonder who'll have the job of paintin' 'em?' remarked Philpot to Newman.
`P'raps's they'll take a couple of us away from ere.'
`I shouldn't think so. We're short-'anded 'ere already. Most likely they'll put on a couple of fresh 'ands. There's a 'ell of a lot of work in all them blinds, you know: I reckon they'll 'ave to 'ave there or four coats, the state they're in.'
`Yes. No doubt that's what will be done,' replied Newman, and added with a mirthless laugh:
`I don't suppose they'll have much difficulty in getting a couple of chaps.'
`No, you're right, mate. There's plenty of 'em walkin' about as a week's work would be a Gordsend to.'
`Come to think of it,' continued Newman after a pause, `I believe the firm used to give all their blind work to old Latham, the venetian blind maker. Prap's they'll give 'im this lot to do.'
`Very likely,' replied Philpot, `I should think 'e can do 'em cheaper even than us chaps, and that's all the firm cares about,'
How far their conjectures were fulfilled will appear later.
Shortly after Bert was gone it became so dark that it was necessary to light the candles, and Philpot remarked that although he hated working under such conditions, yet he was always glad when lighting up time came, because then knocking off time was not very far behind.
About five minutes to five, just as they were all putting their things away for the night, Nimrod suddenly appeared in the house. He had come hoping to find some of them ready dressed to go home before the proper time. Having failed in this laudable enterprise, he stood silently by himself for some seconds
`You know, that's not the way to get on in life, my boy,' observed Sweater lifting his forefinger and shaking his fat head reproachfully.
`Get along with you at once!' Rushton said, roughly. `I'm surprised at yer! The idear! Sitting down in my time!'
This was quite true. Rushton was not merely angry, but astonished at the audacity of the boy. That anyone in his employment should dare to have the impertinence to sit down in his time was incredible.
The boy lifted the handle of the cart and once more began to push it up the hill. It seemed heavier now that ever, but he managed to get on somehow. He kept glancing back after Rushton and Sweater, who presently turned a corner and were lost to view: then he ran the cart to the kerb again to have a breathe. He couldn't have kept up much further without a spell even if they had still been watching him, but he didn't rest for more than about half a minute this time, because he was afraid they might be peeping round the corner at him.
After this he gave up the lamp-post system and halted for a minute or so at regular short intervals. In this way, he at length reached the top of the hill, and with a sigh of relief congratulated himself that the journey was practically over.
Just before he arrived at the gate of the house, he saw Hunter sneak out and mount his bicycle and ride away. Bert wheeled his cart up to the front door and began carrying in the things. Whilst thus engaged he noticed Philpot peeping cautiously over the banisters of the staircase, and called out to him:
`Give us a hand with this bucket of whitewash, will yer, Joe?'
`Certainly, me son, with the greatest of hagony,' replied Philpot as he hurried down the stairs.
As they were carrying it in Philpot winked at Bert and whispered:
`Did yer see Pontius Pilate anywheres outside?'
`'E went away on 'is bike just as I come in at the gate.'
`Did 'e? Thank Gord for that! I don't wish 'im no 'arm,' said Philpot, fervently, `but I 'opes 'e gets runned over with a motor.'
In this wish Bert entirely concurred, and similar charitable sentiments were expressed by all the others as soon as they heard that Misery was gone.
Just before four o'clock that afternoon Bert began to load up the truck with the venetian blinds, which had been taken down some days previously.
`I wonder who'll have the job of paintin' 'em?' remarked Philpot to Newman.
`P'raps's they'll take a couple of us away from ere.'
`I shouldn't think so. We're short-'anded 'ere already. Most likely they'll put on a couple of fresh 'ands. There's a 'ell of a lot of work in all them blinds, you know: I reckon they'll 'ave to 'ave there or four coats, the state they're in.'
`Yes. No doubt that's what will be done,' replied Newman, and added with a mirthless laugh:
`I don't suppose they'll have much difficulty in getting a couple of chaps.'
`No, you're right, mate. There's plenty of 'em walkin' about as a week's work would be a Gordsend to.'
`Come to think of it,' continued Newman after a pause, `I believe the firm used to give all their blind work to old Latham, the venetian blind maker. Prap's they'll give 'im this lot to do.'
`Very likely,' replied Philpot, `I should think 'e can do 'em cheaper even than us chaps, and that's all the firm cares about,'
How far their conjectures were fulfilled will appear later.
Shortly after Bert was gone it became so dark that it was necessary to light the candles, and Philpot remarked that although he hated working under such conditions, yet he was always glad when lighting up time came, because then knocking off time was not very far behind.
About five minutes to five, just as they were all putting their things away for the night, Nimrod suddenly appeared in the house. He had come hoping to find some of them ready dressed to go home before the proper time. Having failed in this laudable enterprise, he stood silently by himself for some seconds