Ragged Trousered Philanthropists by Robert Tressell (fiction novels to read .txt) 📕

door, and without troubling to knock, flung it violently open and

entered.

The atmosphere of this place was very different from that of the damp

cellar where Bert was working. A grate fitted with asbestos blocks

and lit with gas communicated a genial warmth to the air.

Rushton was standing leaning over Miss Wade’s chair with his left arm

round her neck. Owen recollected afterwards that her dress was

disarranged. She retired hastily to the far end of the room as

Rushton jumped away from her, and stared in amazement and confusion at

the intruder - he was too astonished and embarrassed to speak. Owen

stood panting and quivering in the middle of the office and pointed a

trembling finger at his employer:

`I’ve come - here - to tell - you - that - if I find young - Bert

White - working - down in that shop - without a fire - I’ll have you

prosecuted. The place is not good enough for a stable - if you owned

a valuable dog - you wouldn’t keep it there - I give you fair warning -

I know - enough - about you - to put you - where you deserve to be -

if you don’t treat him better I’ll have you punished I’ll show you

up.’

Rushton continued to stare at him in mingled confusion, fear and

perplexity; he did not yet comprehend exactly what it was all about;

he was guiltily conscious of so many things which he might reasonably

fear to be shown up or prosecuted for if they were known, and the fact

of being caught under such circumstances with Miss Wade helped to

reduce him to a condition approaching terror.

`If the boy has been there without a fire, I ‘aven’t known anything

about it,’ he stammered at last. `Mr ‘Unter has charge of all those

matters.’

`You - yourself - forbade him - to make a fire last winter - and

anyhow - you know about it now. You obtained money from his mother

under the pretence - that you were going - to teach him a trade - but

for the last twelve months - you have been using him - as if he were -

a beast of burden. I advise you to see to it - or I shall - find -

means - to make you - wish you had done so.’

With this Owen turned and went out, leaving the door open, and Rushton

in a state of mind compounded of fear, amazement and anger.

As he walked homewards through the snow-storm, Owen began to realize

that the consequence of what he had done would be that Rushton would

not give him any more work, and as he reflected on all that this would

mean to those at home, for a moment he doubted whether he had done

right. But when he told Nora what had happened she said there were

plenty of other firms in the town who would employ him - when they had

the work. He had done without Rushton before and could do so again;

for her part - whatever the consequences might be - she was glad that

he had acted as he did.

`We’ll get through somehow, I suppose,’ said Owen, wearily. `There’s

not much chance of getting a job anywhere else just now, but I shall

try to get some work on my own account. I shall do some samples of

showcards the same as I did last winter and try to get orders from

some of the shops - they usually want something extra at this time,

but I’m afraid it is rather too late: most of them already have all

they want.’

`I shouldn’t go out again today if I were you,’ said Nora, noticing

how ill he looked. `You should stay at home and read, or write up

those minutes.’

The minutes referred to were those of the last meeting of the local

branch of the Painters’ Society, of which Owen was the secretary, and

as the snow continued to fall, he occupied himself after dinner in the

manner his wife suggested, until four o’clock, when Frankie returned

from school bringing with him a large snowball, and crying out as a

piece of good news that the snow was still falling heavily, and that

he believed it was freezing!

They went to bed very early that night, for it was necessary to

economize the coal, and not only that, but - because the rooms were so

near the roof - it was not possible to keep the place warm no matter

how much coal was used. The fire seemed, if anything, to make the

place colder, for it caused the outer air to pour in through the

joints of the ill-fitting doors and windows.

Owen lay awake for the greater part of the night. The terror of the

future made rest or sleep impossible. He got up very early the next

morning - long before it was light - and after lighting the fire, set

about preparing the samples he had mentioned to Nora, but found that

it would not be possible to do much in this direction without buying

more cardboard, for most of what he had was not in good condition.

They had bread and butter and tea for breakfast. Frankie had his in

bed and it was decided to keep him away from school until after dinner

because the weather was so very cold and his only pair of boots were

so saturated with moisture from having been out in the snow the

previous day.

`I shall make a few inquiries to see if there’s any other work to be

had before I buy the cardboard,’ said Owen, `although I’m afraid it’s

not much use.’

Just as he was preparing to go out, the front door bell rang, and as

he was going down to answer it he saw Bert White coming upstairs. The

boy was carrying a flat, brown-paper parcel under his arm.

`A corfin plate,’ he explained as he arrived at the door. `Wanted at

once - Misery ses you can do it at ‘ome, an’ I’ve got to wait for it.’

Owen and his wife looked at each other with intense relief. So he was

not to be dismissed after all. It was almost too good to be true.

`There’s a piece of paper inside the parcel with the name of the party

what’s dead,’ continued Bert, `and here’s a little bottle of Brunswick

black for you to do the inscription with.’

`Did he send any other message?’

`Yes: he told me to tell you there’s a job to be started Monday morning -

a couple of rooms to be done out somewhere. Got to be finished by

Thursday; and there’s another job ‘e wants you to do this afternoon -

after dinner - so you’ve got to come to the yard at one o’clock. ‘E

told me to tell you ‘e meant to leave a message for you yesterday

morning, but ‘e forgot.’

`What did he say to you about the fire - anything?’

`Yes: they both of ‘em came about an hour after you went away - Misery

and the Bloke too - but they didn’t kick up a row. I wasn’t arf

frightened, I can tell you, when I saw ‘em both coming, but they was

quite nice. The Bloke ses to me, “Ah, that’s right, my boy,” ‘e ses.

“Keep up a good fire. I’m going to send you some coke,” ‘e ses. And

then they ‘ad a look round and ‘e told Sawkins to put some new panes

of glass where the winder was broken, and - you know that great big

packing-case what was under the truck shed?’

`Yes.’

`Well, ‘e told Sawkins to saw it up and cover over the stone floor of

the paintshop with it. It ain’t ‘arf all right there now. I’ve

cleared out all the muck from under the benches and we’ve got two

sacks of coke sent from the gasworks, and the Bloke told me when

that’s all used up I’ve got to get a order orf Miss Wade for another

lot.’

At one o’clock Owen was at the yard, where he saw Misery, who

instructed him to go to the front shop and paint some numbers on the

racks where the wallpapers were stored. Whilst he was doing this work

Rushton came in and greeted him in a very friendly way.

`I’m very glad you let me know about the boy working in that

paintshop,’ he observed after a few preliminary remarks. `I can

assure you as I don’t want the lad to be uncomfortable, but you know I

can’t attend to everything myself. I’m much obliged to you for

telling me about it; I think you did quite right; I should have done

the same myself.’

Owen did not know what to reply, but Rushton walked off without

waiting…