The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists [8]
he did not smoke or drink and never went to the theatre. He had an extraordinary notion that total abstinence was one of the fundamental principles of the Christian religion. It never occurred to what he called his mind, that this doctrine is an insult to the Founder of Christianity.
`Yes,' said Crass, agreeing with Slyme, `an' thers plenty of 'em wot's too lazy to work when they can get it. Some of the b--s who go about pleading poverty 'ave never done a fair day's work in all their bloody lives. Then thers all this new-fangled machinery,' continued Crass. `That's wot's ruinin' everything. Even in our trade ther's them machines for trimmin' wallpaper, an' now they've brought out a paintin' machine. Ther's a pump an' a 'ose pipe, an' they reckon two men can do as much with this 'ere machine as twenty could without it.'
`Another thing is women,' said Harlow, `there's thousands of 'em nowadays doin' work wot oughter be done by men.'
`In my opinion ther's too much of this 'ere eddication, nowadays,' remarked old Linden. `Wot the 'ell's the good of eddication to the likes of us?'
`None whatever,' said Crass, `it just puts foolish idears into people's 'eds and makes 'em too lazy to work.'
Barrington, who took no part in the conversation, still sat silently smoking. Owen was listening to this pitiable farrago with feelings of contempt and wonder. Were they all hopelessly stupid? Had their intelligence never developed beyond the childhood stage? Or was he mad himself?
`Early marriages is another thing,' said Slyme: `no man oughtn't to be allowed to get married unless he's in a position to keep a family.'
`How can marriage be a cause of poverty?' said Owen, contemptuously. `A man who is not married is living an unnatural life. Why don't you continue your argument a little further and say that the practice of eating and drinking is the cause of poverty or that if people were to go barefoot and naked there would be no poverty? The man who is so poor that he cannot marry is in a condition of poverty already.'
`Wot I mean,' said Slyme, `is that no man oughtn't to marry till he's saved up enough so as to 'ave some money in the bank; an' another thing, I reckon a man oughtn't to get married till 'e's got an 'ouse of 'is own. It's easy enough to buy one in a building society if you're in reg'lar work.'
At this there was a general laugh.
`Why, you bloody fool,' said Harlow, scornfully, `most of us is walkin' about 'arf our time. It's all very well for you to talk; you've got almost a constant job on this firm. If they're doin' anything at all you're one of the few gets a show in. And another thing,' he added with a sneer, `we don't all go to the same chapel as old Misery,'
`Old Misery' was Ruston & Co.'s manager or walking foreman. `Misery' was only one of the nicknames bestowed upon him by the hands: he was also known as `Nimrod' and `Pontius Pilate'.
`And even if it's not possible,' Harlow continued, winking at the others, `what's a man to do during the years he's savin' up?'
`Well, he must conquer hisself,' said Slyme, getting red.
`Conquer hisself is right!' said Harlow and the others laughed again.
`Of course if a man tried to conquer hisself by his own strength,' replied Slyme, `'e would be sure to fail, but when you've got the Grace of God in you it's different.'
`Chuck it, fer Christ's sake!' said Harlow in a tone of disgust. `We've only just 'ad our dinner!'
`And wot about drink?' demanded old Joe Philpot, suddenly.
`'Ear, 'ear,' cried Harlow. `That's the bleedin' talk. I wouldn't mind 'avin 'arf a pint now, if somebody else will pay for it.'
Joe Philpot - or as he was usually called, `Old Joe' - was in the habit of indulging freely in the cup that inebriates. He was not very old, being only a little over fifty, but he looked much older. He had lost his wife some five years ago and was now alone in the world, for his three children had died in their infancy. Slyme's reference to drink had roused Philpot's indignation; he felt that it was directed against
`Yes,' said Crass, agreeing with Slyme, `an' thers plenty of 'em wot's too lazy to work when they can get it. Some of the b--s who go about pleading poverty 'ave never done a fair day's work in all their bloody lives. Then thers all this new-fangled machinery,' continued Crass. `That's wot's ruinin' everything. Even in our trade ther's them machines for trimmin' wallpaper, an' now they've brought out a paintin' machine. Ther's a pump an' a 'ose pipe, an' they reckon two men can do as much with this 'ere machine as twenty could without it.'
`Another thing is women,' said Harlow, `there's thousands of 'em nowadays doin' work wot oughter be done by men.'
`In my opinion ther's too much of this 'ere eddication, nowadays,' remarked old Linden. `Wot the 'ell's the good of eddication to the likes of us?'
`None whatever,' said Crass, `it just puts foolish idears into people's 'eds and makes 'em too lazy to work.'
Barrington, who took no part in the conversation, still sat silently smoking. Owen was listening to this pitiable farrago with feelings of contempt and wonder. Were they all hopelessly stupid? Had their intelligence never developed beyond the childhood stage? Or was he mad himself?
`Early marriages is another thing,' said Slyme: `no man oughtn't to be allowed to get married unless he's in a position to keep a family.'
`How can marriage be a cause of poverty?' said Owen, contemptuously. `A man who is not married is living an unnatural life. Why don't you continue your argument a little further and say that the practice of eating and drinking is the cause of poverty or that if people were to go barefoot and naked there would be no poverty? The man who is so poor that he cannot marry is in a condition of poverty already.'
`Wot I mean,' said Slyme, `is that no man oughtn't to marry till he's saved up enough so as to 'ave some money in the bank; an' another thing, I reckon a man oughtn't to get married till 'e's got an 'ouse of 'is own. It's easy enough to buy one in a building society if you're in reg'lar work.'
At this there was a general laugh.
`Why, you bloody fool,' said Harlow, scornfully, `most of us is walkin' about 'arf our time. It's all very well for you to talk; you've got almost a constant job on this firm. If they're doin' anything at all you're one of the few gets a show in. And another thing,' he added with a sneer, `we don't all go to the same chapel as old Misery,'
`Old Misery' was Ruston & Co.'s manager or walking foreman. `Misery' was only one of the nicknames bestowed upon him by the hands: he was also known as `Nimrod' and `Pontius Pilate'.
`And even if it's not possible,' Harlow continued, winking at the others, `what's a man to do during the years he's savin' up?'
`Well, he must conquer hisself,' said Slyme, getting red.
`Conquer hisself is right!' said Harlow and the others laughed again.
`Of course if a man tried to conquer hisself by his own strength,' replied Slyme, `'e would be sure to fail, but when you've got the Grace of God in you it's different.'
`Chuck it, fer Christ's sake!' said Harlow in a tone of disgust. `We've only just 'ad our dinner!'
`And wot about drink?' demanded old Joe Philpot, suddenly.
`'Ear, 'ear,' cried Harlow. `That's the bleedin' talk. I wouldn't mind 'avin 'arf a pint now, if somebody else will pay for it.'
Joe Philpot - or as he was usually called, `Old Joe' - was in the habit of indulging freely in the cup that inebriates. He was not very old, being only a little over fifty, but he looked much older. He had lost his wife some five years ago and was now alone in the world, for his three children had died in their infancy. Slyme's reference to drink had roused Philpot's indignation; he felt that it was directed against