The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists - LightNovelsOnl.com
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Nimrod now began to crawl about the house, snarling and grumbling at everyone.
'Now then, you chaps. Rouse yourselves!' he bellowed, 'you seem to think this is a 'orspital. If some of you don't make a better show than this, I'll 'ave to 'ave a Alteration! There's plenty of chaps walkin' about doin' nothin' who'll be only too glad of a job!'
He went into the scullery, where Cra.s.s was mixing some colour.
'Look 'ere, Cra.s.s!' he said. 'I'm not at all satisfied with the way you're gettin' on with the work. You must push the chaps a bit more than you're doin'. There's not enough being done, by a long way. We shall lose money over this job before we're finished!'
Cra.s.s--whose fat face had turned a ghastly green with fright--mumbled something about getting on with it as fast as he could.
'Well, you'll 'ave to make 'em move a bit quicker than this!' Misery howled, 'or there'll 'ave to be a ALTERATION!'
By an 'alteration' Cra.s.s understood that he might get the sack, or that someone else might be put in charge of the job, and that would of course reduce him to the ranks and do away with his chance of being kept on longer than the others. He determined to try to ingratiate himself with Hunter and appease his wrath by sacrificing someone else.
He glanced cautiously into the kitchen and up the pa.s.sage and then, lowering his voice, he said:
'They all shapes pretty well, except Newman. I would 'ave told you about 'im before, but I thought I'd give 'im a fair chance. I've spoke to 'im several times myself about not doin' enough, but it don't seem to make no difference.'
'I've 'ad me eye on 'im meself for some time,' replied Nimrod in the same tone. 'Anybody would think the work was goin' to be sent to a Exhibition, the way 'e messes about with it, rubbing it with gla.s.spaper and stopping up every little crack! I can't understand where 'e gets all the gla.s.spaper FROM.'
''E brings it 'isself!' said Cra.s.s hoa.r.s.ely. 'I know for a fact that 'e bought two 'a'penny sheets of it, last week out of 'is own money!'
'Oh, 'e did, did 'e?' snarled Misery. 'I'll give 'im gla.s.spaper! I'll 'ave a Alteration!'
He went into the hall, where he remained alone for a considerable time, brooding. At last, with the manner of one who has resolved on a certain course of action, he turned and entered the room where Philpot and Harlow were working.
'You both get sevenpence an hour, don't you?' he said.
They both replied to the affirmative.
'I've never worked under price yet,' added Harlow.
'Nor me neither,' observed Philpot.
'Well, of course you can please yourselves,' Hunter continued, 'but after this week we've decided not to pay more than six and a half.
Things is cut so fine nowadays that we can't afford to go on payin'
sevenpence any longer. You can work up till tomorrow night on the old terms, but if you're not willin' to accept six and a half you needn't come on Sat.u.r.day morning. Please yourselves. Take it or leave it.'
Harlow and Philpot were both too much astonished to say anything in reply to this cheerful announcement, and Hunter, with the final remark, 'You can think it over,' left them and went to deliver the same ultimatum to all the other full-price men, who took it in the same way as Philpot and Harlow had done. Cra.s.s and Owen were the only two whose wages were not reduced.
It will be remembered that Newman was one of those who were already working for the reduced rate. Misery found him alone in one of the upper rooms, to which he was giving the final coat. He was at his old tricks. The woodwork of the cupboard be was doing was in a rather damaged condition, and he was facing up the dents with white-lead putty before painting it. He knew quite well that Hunter objected to any but very large holes or cracks being stopped, and yet somehow or other he could not scamp the work to the extent that he was ordered to; and so, almost by stealth, he was in the habit of doing it--not properly but as well as he dared. He even went to the length of occasionally buying a few sheets of gla.s.spaper with his own money, as Cra.s.s had told Hunter.
When the latter came into the room he stood with a sneer on his face, watching Newman for about five minutes before he spoke. The workman became very nervous and awkward under this scrutiny.
'You can make out yer time-sheet and come to the office for yer money at five o'clock,' said Nimrod at last. 'We shan't require your valuable services no more after tonight.'
Newman went white.
'Why, what's wrong?' said he. 'What have I done?'
'Oh, it's not wot you've DONE,' replied Misery. 'It's wot you've not done. That's wot's wrong! You've not done enough, that's all!' And without further parley he turned and went out.
Newman stood in the darkening room feeling as if his heart had turned to lead. There rose before his mind the picture of his home and family. He could see them as they were at this very moment, the wife probably just beginning to prepare the evening meal, and the children setting the cups and saucers and other things on the kitchen table--a noisy work, enlivened with many a frolic and childish dispute. Even the two-year-old baby insisted on helping, although she always put everything in the wrong place and made all sorts of funny mistakes.
They had all been so happy lately because they knew that he had work that would last till nearly Christmas--if not longer. And now this had happened--to plunge them back into the abyss of wretchedness from which they had so recently escaped. They still owed several weeks' rent, and were already so much in debt to the baker and the grocer that it was hopeless to expect any further credit.
'My G.o.d!' said Newman, realizing the almost utter hopelessness of the chance of obtaining another 'job' and unconsciously speaking aloud. 'My G.o.d! How can I tell them? What WILL become of us?'
Having accomplished the objects of his visit, Hunter shortly afterwards departed, possibly congratulating himself that he had not been hiding his light under a bushel, but that he had set it upon a candlestick and given light unto all that were within that house.
As soon as they knew that he was gone, the men began to gather into little groups, but in a little while they nearly all found themselves in the kitchen, discussing the reduction. Sawkins and the other 'lightweights' remained at their work. Some of them got only fourpence halfpenny--Sawkins was paid fivepence--so none of these were affected by the change. The other two fresh hands--the journeymen--joined the crowd in the kitchen, being anxious to conceal the fact that they had agreed to accept the reduced rate before being 'taken on'. Owen also was there, having heard the news from Philpot.
There was a lot of furious talk. At first several of them spoke of 'chucking up', at once; but others were more prudent, for they knew that if they did leave there were dozens of others who would be eager to take their places.
'After all, you know,' said Slyme, who had--stowed away somewhere at the back of his head--an idea of presently starting business on his own account: he was only waiting until he had saved enough money, 'after all, there's something in what 'Unter says. It's very 'ard to get a fair price for work nowadays. Things IS cut very fine.'
'Yes! We know all about that!' shouted Harlow. 'And who the b.l.o.o.d.y 'ell is it cuts 'em? Why, sich b--rs as 'Unter and Rushton! If this firm 'adn't cut this job so fine, some other firm would 'ave 'ad it for more money. Rushton's cuttin' it fine didn't MAKE this job, did it?
It would 'ave been done just the same if they 'adn't tendered for it at all! The only difference is that we should 'ave been workin' for some other master.'
'I don't believe the b.l.o.o.d.y job's cut fine at all!' said Philpot.
'Rushton is a pal of Sweater's and they're both members of the Town Council.'
'That may be,' replied Slyme; 'but all the same I believe Sweater got several other prices besides Rushton's--friend or no friend; and you can't blame 'im: it's only business. But pr'aps Rushton got the preference--Sweater may 'ave told 'im the others' prices.'
'Yes, and a b.l.o.o.d.y fine lot of prices they was, too, if the truth was known!' said Bundy. 'There was six other firms after this job to my knowledge--Pushem and Sloggem, Bluffum and Doemdown, Dodger and Scampit, s.n.a.t.c.ham and Graball, Smeeriton and Leavit, Makehaste and Sloggitt, and Gord only knows 'ow many more.'
At this moment Newman came into the room. He looked so white and upset that the others involuntarily paused in their conversation.
'Well, what do YOU think of it?' asked Harlow.
'Think of what?' said Newman.
'Why, didn't 'Unter tell you?' cried several voices, whose owners looked suspiciously at him. They thought--if Hunter had not spoken to Newman, it must be because he was already working under price. There had been a rumour going about the last few days to that effect.
'Didn't Misery tell you? They're not goin' to pay more than six and a half after this week.'
'That's not what 'e said to me. 'E just told me to knock off. Said I didn't do enough for 'em.'
'Jesus Christ!' exclaimed Cra.s.s, pretending to be overcome with surprise.
Newman's account of what had transpired was listened to in gloomy silence. 'Those who--a few minutes previously--had been talking loudly of chucking up the job became filled with apprehension that they might be served in the same manner as he had been. Cra.s.s was one of the loudest in his expression of astonishment and indignation, but he rather overdid it and only succeeded in confirming the secret suspicion of the others that he had had something to do with Hunter's action.
The result of the discussion was that they decided to submit to Misery's terms for the time being, until they could see a chance of getting work elsewhere.
As Owen had to go to the office to see the wallpaper spoken of by Hunter, he accompanied Newman when the latter went to get his wages.
Nimrod was waiting for them, and had the money ready in an envelope, which he handed to Newman, who took it without speaking and went away.
Misery had been rummaging amongst the old wallpapers, and had got out a great heap of odd rolls, which he now submitted to Owen, but after examining them the latter said that they were unsuitable for the purpose, so after some argument Misery was compelled to sign an order for some proper cartridge paper, which Owen obtained at a stationer's on his way home.
The next morning, when Misery went to the 'Cave', he was in a fearful rage, and he kicked up a terrible row with Cra.s.s. He said that Mr Rushton had been complaining of the lack of discipline on the job, and he told Cra.s.s to tell all the hands that for the future singing in working hours was strictly forbidden, and anyone caught breaking this rule would be instantly dismissed.
Several times during the following days Nimrod called at Owen's flat to see how the work was progressing and to impress upon him the necessity of not taking too much trouble over it.