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

which the people who do nothing have are made by the people who work,

don’t you?’

`Yes.’

`And you know that those who work have to eat the very worst food, and

wear the very worst clothes, and live in the very worst homes.’

`Yes,’ said Frankie.

`And sometimes they have nothing to eat at all, and no clothes to wear

except rags, and even no homes to live in.’

`Yes,’ repeated the child.

`Well, the vicar goes about telling the Idlers that it’s quite right

for them to do nothing, and that God meant them to have nearly

everything that is made by those who work. In fact, he tells them

that God made the poor for the use of the rich. Then he goes to the

workers and tells them that God meant them to work very hard and to

give all the good things they make to those who do nothing, and that

they should be very thankful to God and to the idlers for being

allowed to have even the very worst food to eat and the rags, and

broken boots to wear. He also tells them that they mustn’t grumble,

or be discontented because they’re poor in this world, but that they

must wait till they’re dead, and then God will reward them by letting

them go to a place called Heaven.’

Frankie laughed.

`And what about the Idlers?’ he asked.

`The vicar says that if they believe everything he tells them and give

him some of the money they make out of the workers, then God will let

them into heaven also.’

`Well, that’s not fair doos, is it, Mum?’ said Frankie with some

indignation.

`It wouldn’t be if it were true, but then you see it’s not true, it

can’t be true.’

`Why can’t it, Mum?’

`Oh, for many reasons: to begin with, the vicar doesn’t believe it

himself: he only pretends to. For instance, he pretends to believe

the Bible, but if we read the Bible we find that Jesus said that God

is our father and that all the people in the world are His children,

all brothers and sisters. But the vicar says that although Jesus said

“brothers and sisters” He really ought to have said “masters and

servants”. Again, Jesus said that His disciples should not think of

tomorrow, or save up a lot of money for themselves, but they should be

unselfish and help those who are in need. Jesus said that His

disciples must not think about their own future needs at all, because

God will provide for them if they only do as He commands. But the

vicar says that is all nonsense.

`Jesus also said that if anyone tried to do His disciples harm, they

must never resist, but forgive those who injured them and pray God to

forgive them also. But the vicar says this is all nonsense too. He

says that the world would never be able to go on if we did as Jesus

taught. The vicar teaches that the way to deal with those that injure

us is to have them put into prison, or - if they belong to some other

country - to take guns and knives and murder them, and burn their

houses. So you see the vicar doesn’t really believe or do any of the

things that Jesus said: he only pretends.’

`But why does he pretend, and go about talking like that, Mum? What

does he do it for?’

`Because he wishes to live without working himself, dear.’

`And don’t the people know he’s only pretending?’

`Some of them do. Most of the idlers know that what the vicar says is

not true, but they pretend to believe it, and give him money for

saying it, because they want him to go on telling it to the workers so

that they will go on working and keep quiet and be afraid to think for

themselves.’

`And what about the workers? Do they believe it?

`Most of them do, because when they were little children like you,

their mothers taught them to believe, without thinking, whatever the

vicar said, and that God made them for the use of the idlers. When

they went to school, they were taught the same thing: and now that

they’re grown up they really believe it, and they go to work and give

nearly everything they make to the idlers, and have next to nothing

left for themselves and their children. That’s the reason why the

workers’ children have very bad clothes to wear and sometimes no food

to eat; and that’s how it is that the idlers and their children have

more clothes than they need and more food than they can eat. Some of

them have so much food that they are not able to eat it. They just

waste it or throw it away.’

`When I’m grown up into a man,’ said Frankie, with a flushed face,

`I’m going to be one of the workers, and when we’ve made a lot of

things, I shall stand up and tell the others what to do. If any of

the idlers come to take our things away, they’ll get something they

won’t like.’

In a state of suppressed excitement and scarcely conscious of what he

was doing, the boy began gathering up the toys and throwing the

violently one by one into the box.

`I’ll teach ‘em to come taking our things away,’ he exclaimed,

relapsing momentarily into his street style of speaking.

`First of all we’ll all stand quietly on one side. Then when the

idlers come in and start touching our things, we’ll go up to ‘em and

say, “`Ere, watcher doin’ of? Just you put it down, will yer?” And

if they don’t put it down at once, it’ll be the worse for ‘em, I can

tell you.’

All the toys being collected, Frankie picked up the box and placed it

noisily in its accustomed corner of the room.

`I should think the workers will be jolly glad when they see me coming

to tell them what to do, shouldn’t you, Mum?’

`I don’t know dear; you see so many people have tried to tell them,

but they won’t listen, they don’t want to hear. They think it’s quite

right that they should work very hard all their lives, and quite right

that most of the things they help to make should be taken away from

them by the people who do nothing. The workers think that their

children are not as good as the children of the idlers, and they teach

their children that as soon as ever they are old enough they must be

satisfied to work very hard and to have only very bad good and clothes

and homes.’

`Then I should think the workers ought to be jolly ashamed of

themselves, Mum, don’t you?’

`Well, in one sense they ought, but you must remember that that’s what

they’ve always been taught themselves. First, their mothers and

fathers told them so; then, their schoolteachers told them so; and

then, when they went to church, the vicar and the Sunday School

teacher told them the same thing. So you can’t be surprised that they

now really believe that God made them and their children to make

things for the use of the people who do nothing.’

`But you’d think their own sense would tell them! How can it be right

for the people who do nothing to have the very best and most of

everything thats made, and the very ones who make everything to have

hardly any. Why even I know better than that, and I’m only six and a

half years old.’

`But then you’re different, dearie, you’ve been taught to think about

it, and Dad and I have explained it to you, often.’

`Yes, I know,’ replied Frankie confidently. `But even if you’d never

taught me, I’m sure I should have tumbled to it all right by myself;

I’m not such a juggins as you think I am.’

`So you might, but you wouldn’t if you’d been brought up in the same

way as most of the workers. They’ve been taught that it’s very wicked

to use their own judgement, or to think. And their children are being

taught so now. Do you remember what you told me the other day, when

you came home from school, about the Scripture lesson?’

`About St Thomas?’

`Yes. What did the teacher say St Thomas was?’

`She said he was a bad example; and she said I was worse than him

because I asked too many foolish questions. She always gets in a wax

if I talk too much.’

`Well, why did she call St Thomas a bad example?’

`Because he wouldn’t believe what he was told.’

`Exactly: well, when you told Dad about it what did he say?’

`Dad told me that really St Thomas was the only sensible man in the

whole crowd of Apostles. That is,’ added Frankie, correcting himself,

`if there ever was such a man at all.’

`But did Dad say that there never was such a man?’

`No; he said HE didn’t believe there ever was, but he told me to just

listen to what the teacher said about such things, and then to think

about it in my own mind, and wait till I’m grown up and then I can use

my own judgement.’

`Well, now, that’s what YOU were told, but all the other children’s

mothers and fathers tell them to believe, without thinking, whatever

the teacher says. So it will be no wonder if those children are not

able to think for themselves when they’re grown up, will it?’

`Don’t you think it will be any use, then, for me to tell them what to

do to the Idlers?’ asked Frankie, dejectedly.

`Hark!’ said his mother, holding up her finger.

`Dad!’ cried Frankie, rushing to the door and flinging it open. He

ran along the passage and opened the staircase door before Owen

reached the top of the last flight of stairs.

`Why ever do you come up at such a rate,’ reproachfully exclaimed

Owen’s wife as he came into the room exhausted from the climb upstairs

and sank panting into the nearest chair.

`I al-ways-for-get,’ he replied, when he had in some degree recovered.

As he lay back in the chair, his face haggard and of a ghastly

whiteness, and with the water dripping from his saturated clothing,

Owen presented a terrible appearance.

Frankie noticed with childish terror the extreme alarm with which his

mother looked at his father.

`You’re always doing it,’ he said with a whimper. `How many more

times will Mother have to tell you about it before you take nay

notice?’

`It’s all right, old chap,’ said Owen, drawing the child nearer to him

and kissing the curly head. `Listen, and see if you can guess what

I’ve got for you under my coat.’

In the silence the purring of the kitten was distinctly audible.

`A kitten!’ cried the boy, taking it out of its hiding-place. `All

black, and I believe it’s half a Persian. Just the very thing I

wanted.’

While Frankie amused himself playing with the kitten, which had been

provided with another saucer of bread and milk, Owen went into the

bedroom to put on the dry clothes, and then, those that he had taken

off having been placed with his boots near the fire to dry, he

explained as they were taking tea the reason of his late homecoming.

`I’m afraid he won’t find