The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists [65]
love for each other seemed to be renewed and intensified. They remembered with acute regret that hitherto they had not always fully appreciated the happiness of that exclusive companionship of which there now remained to them but one week more. For once the present was esteemed at its proper value, being invested with some of the glamour which almost always envelops the past.
Chapter 13
Penal Servitude and Death
On Tuesday - the day after his interview with Rushton - Owen remained at home working at the drawings. He did not get them finished, but they were so far advanced that he thought he would be able to complete them after tea on Wednesday evening. He did not go to work until after breakfast on Wednesday and his continued absence served to confirm the opinion of the other workmen that he had been discharged. This belief was further strengthened by the fact that a new hand had been sent to the house by Hunter, who came himself also at about a quarter past seven and very nearly caught Philpot in the act of smoking.
During breakfast, Philpot, addressing Crass and referring to Hunter, inquired anxiously:
`'Ow's 'is temper this mornin', Bob?'
`As mild as milk,' replied Crass. `You'd think butter wouldn't melt in 'is mouth.'
`Seemed quite pleased with 'isself, didn't 'e?' said Harlow.
`Yes,' remarked Newman. `'E said good morning to me!'
`So 'e did to me!' said Easton. `'E come inter the drorin'-room an' 'e ses, "Oh, you're in 'ere are yer, Easton," 'e ses - just like that, quite affable like. So I ses, "Yes, sir." "Well," 'e ses, "get it slobbered over as quick as you can," 'e ses, "'cos we ain't got much for this job: don't spend a lot of time puttying up. Just smear it over an' let it go!"'
`'E certinly seemed very pleased about something,' said Harlow. `I thought prap's there was a undertaking job in: one o' them generally puts 'im in a good humour.'
`I believe that nothing would please 'im so much as to see a epidemic break out,' remarked Philpot. `Small-pox, Hinfluenza, Cholery morbus, or anything like that.'
`Yes: don't you remember 'ow good-tempered 'e was last summer when there was such a lot of Scarlet Fever about?' observed Harlow.
`Yes,' said Crass with a chuckle. `I recollect we 'ad six children's funerals to do in one week. Ole Misery was as pleased as Punch, because of course as a rule there ain't many boxin'-up jobs in the summer. It's in winter as hundertakers reaps their 'arvest.'
`We ain't 'ad very many this winter, though, so far,' said Harlow.
`Not so many as usual,' admitted Crass, `but still, we can't grumble: we've 'ad one nearly every week since the beginning of October. That's not so bad, you know.'
Crass took a lively interest in the undertaking department of Rushton & Co.'s business. He always had the job of polishing or varnishing the coffin and assisting to take it home and to `lift in' the corpse, besides acting as one of the bearers at the funeral. This work was more highly paid for than painting.
`But I don't think there's no funeral job in,' added Crass after a pause. `I think it's because 'e's glad to see the end of Owen, if yeh ask me.'
`Praps that 'as got something to do with it,' said Harlow. `But all the same I don't call that a proper way to treat anyone - givin' a man the push in that way just because 'e 'appened to 'ave a spite against 'im.'
`It's wot I call a bl--dy shame!' cried Philpot. `Owen's a chap wots always ready to do a good turn to anybody, and 'e knows 'is work, although 'e is a bit of a nuisance sometimes, I must admit, when 'e gets on about Socialism.'
`I suppose Misery didn't say nothin' about 'im this mornin'?' inquired Easton.
`No,' replied Crass, and added: `I only 'ope Owen don't think as I never said anything against 'im. 'E looked at me very funny that night after Nimrod went away. Owen needn't think nothing like that about ME, because I'm a chap like this - if I couldn't do nobody no good, I wouldn't never do 'em no 'arm!'
At this some of the others furtively exchanged
Chapter 13
Penal Servitude and Death
On Tuesday - the day after his interview with Rushton - Owen remained at home working at the drawings. He did not get them finished, but they were so far advanced that he thought he would be able to complete them after tea on Wednesday evening. He did not go to work until after breakfast on Wednesday and his continued absence served to confirm the opinion of the other workmen that he had been discharged. This belief was further strengthened by the fact that a new hand had been sent to the house by Hunter, who came himself also at about a quarter past seven and very nearly caught Philpot in the act of smoking.
During breakfast, Philpot, addressing Crass and referring to Hunter, inquired anxiously:
`'Ow's 'is temper this mornin', Bob?'
`As mild as milk,' replied Crass. `You'd think butter wouldn't melt in 'is mouth.'
`Seemed quite pleased with 'isself, didn't 'e?' said Harlow.
`Yes,' remarked Newman. `'E said good morning to me!'
`So 'e did to me!' said Easton. `'E come inter the drorin'-room an' 'e ses, "Oh, you're in 'ere are yer, Easton," 'e ses - just like that, quite affable like. So I ses, "Yes, sir." "Well," 'e ses, "get it slobbered over as quick as you can," 'e ses, "'cos we ain't got much for this job: don't spend a lot of time puttying up. Just smear it over an' let it go!"'
`'E certinly seemed very pleased about something,' said Harlow. `I thought prap's there was a undertaking job in: one o' them generally puts 'im in a good humour.'
`I believe that nothing would please 'im so much as to see a epidemic break out,' remarked Philpot. `Small-pox, Hinfluenza, Cholery morbus, or anything like that.'
`Yes: don't you remember 'ow good-tempered 'e was last summer when there was such a lot of Scarlet Fever about?' observed Harlow.
`Yes,' said Crass with a chuckle. `I recollect we 'ad six children's funerals to do in one week. Ole Misery was as pleased as Punch, because of course as a rule there ain't many boxin'-up jobs in the summer. It's in winter as hundertakers reaps their 'arvest.'
`We ain't 'ad very many this winter, though, so far,' said Harlow.
`Not so many as usual,' admitted Crass, `but still, we can't grumble: we've 'ad one nearly every week since the beginning of October. That's not so bad, you know.'
Crass took a lively interest in the undertaking department of Rushton & Co.'s business. He always had the job of polishing or varnishing the coffin and assisting to take it home and to `lift in' the corpse, besides acting as one of the bearers at the funeral. This work was more highly paid for than painting.
`But I don't think there's no funeral job in,' added Crass after a pause. `I think it's because 'e's glad to see the end of Owen, if yeh ask me.'
`Praps that 'as got something to do with it,' said Harlow. `But all the same I don't call that a proper way to treat anyone - givin' a man the push in that way just because 'e 'appened to 'ave a spite against 'im.'
`It's wot I call a bl--dy shame!' cried Philpot. `Owen's a chap wots always ready to do a good turn to anybody, and 'e knows 'is work, although 'e is a bit of a nuisance sometimes, I must admit, when 'e gets on about Socialism.'
`I suppose Misery didn't say nothin' about 'im this mornin'?' inquired Easton.
`No,' replied Crass, and added: `I only 'ope Owen don't think as I never said anything against 'im. 'E looked at me very funny that night after Nimrod went away. Owen needn't think nothing like that about ME, because I'm a chap like this - if I couldn't do nobody no good, I wouldn't never do 'em no 'arm!'
At this some of the others furtively exchanged