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

shabby and in some cases ragged clothing sitting and eating their

coarse food and cracking jokes.

It was a pathetic and wonderful and at the same time a despicable

spectacle. Pathetic that human beings should be condemned to spend

the greater part of their lives amid such surroundings, because it

must be remembered that most of their time was spent on some job or

other. When `The Cave’ was finished they would go to some similar

`job’, if they were lucky enough to find one. Wonderful, because

although they knew that they did more than their fair share of the

great work of producing the necessaries and comforts of life, they did

not think they were entitled to a fair share of the good things they

helped to create! And despicable, because although they saw their

children condemned to the same life of degradation, hard labour and

privation, yet they refused to help to bring about a better state of

affairs. Most of them thought that what had been good enough for

themselves was good enough for their children.

It seemed as if they regarded their own children with a kind of

contempt, as being only fit to grow up to be the servants of the

children of such people as Rushton and Sweater. But it must be

remembered that they had been taught self-contempt when they were

children. In the so-called `Christian’ schools. they attended then

they were taught to `order themselves lowly and reverently towards

their betters’, and they were now actually sending their own children

to learn the same degrading lessons in their turn! They had a vast

amount of consideration for their betters, and for the children of

their betters, but very little for their own children, for each other,

or for themselves.

That was why they sat there in their rags and ate their coarse food,

and cracked their coarser jokes, and drank the dreadful tea, and were

content! So long as they had Plenty of Work and plenty of - Something -

to eat, and somebody else’s castoff clothes to wear, they were

content! And they were proud of it. They gloried in it. They agreed

and assured each other that the good things of life were not intended

for the `Likes of them’, or their children.

`Wot’s become of the Professor?’ asked the gentleman who sat on the

upturned pail in the corner, referring to Owen, who had not yet come

down from his work.

`P’raps ‘e’s preparing ‘is sermon,’ remarked Harlow with a laugh.

`We ain’t ‘ad no lectures from ‘im lately, since ‘e’s been on that

room,’ observed Easton. `‘Ave we?’

`Dam good job too!’ exclaimed Sawkins. `It gives me the pip to ‘ear

‘im, the same old thing over and over again.’

`Poor ole Frank,’ remarked Harlow. `‘E does upset ‘isself about

things, don’t ‘e?’

`More fool ‘im!’ said Bundy. `I’ll take bloody good care I don’t go

worryin’ myself to death like ‘e’s doin’, about such dam rot as that.’

`I do believe that’s wot makes ‘im look so bad as ‘e does,’ observed

Harlow. `Several times this morning I couldn’t help noticing the way

‘e kept on coughing.’

`I thought ‘e seemed to be a bit better lately,’ Philpot observed;

`more cheerful and happier like, and more inclined for a bit of fun.’

`He’s a funny sort of chap, ain’t he?’ said Bundy. `One day quite

jolly, singing and cracking jokes and tellin’ yarns, and the next you

can’t hardly get a word out of ‘im.’

`Bloody rot, I call it,’ chimed in the man on the pail. `Wot the

‘ell’s the use of the likes of us troublin’ our ‘eads about politics?’

`Oh, I don’t see that.’ replied Harlow. `We’ve got votes and we’re

really the people what control the affairs of the country, so I reckon

we ought to take SOME interest in it, but at the same time I can’t see

no sense in this ‘ere Socialist wangle that Owen’s always talkin’ about.’

`Nor nobody else neither,’ said Crass with a jeering laugh.

`Even if all the bloody money in the world WAS divided out equal,’

said the man on the pail, profoundly, `it wouldn’t do no good! In six

months’ time it would be all back in the same ‘ands again.’

`Of course,’ said everybody.

`But ‘e ‘ad a cuff the other day about money bein’ no good at all!’

observed Easton. `Don’t you remember ‘e said as money was the

principal cause of poverty?’

`So it is the principal cause of poverty,’ said Owen, who entered at

that moment.

`Hooray!’ shouted Philpot, leading off a cheer which the others took

up. `The Professor ‘as arrived and will now proceed to say a few

remarks.’

A roar of merriment greeted this sally.

`Let’s ‘ave our bloody dinner first, for Christ’s sake,’ appealed

Harlow, with mock despair.

As Owen, having filled his cup with tea, sat down in his usual place,

Philpot rose solemnly to his feet, and, looking round the company,

said:

`Genelmen, with your kind permission, as soon as the Professor ‘as

finished ‘is dinner ‘e will deliver ‘is well-known lecture, entitled,

“Money the Principal Cause of being ‘ard up”, proving as money ain’t

no good to nobody. At the hend of the lecture a collection will be

took up to provide the lecturer with a little encouragement.’ Philpot

resumed his seat amid cheers.

As soon as they had finished eating, some of the men began to make

remarks about the lecture, but Owen only laughed and went on reading

the piece of newspaper that his dinner had been wrapped in. Usually

most of the men went out for a walk after dinner, but as it happened

to be raining that day they were determined, if possible, to make Owen

fulfill the engagement made in his name by Philpot.

`Let’s ‘oot ‘im,’ said Harlow, and the suggestion was at once acted

upon; howls, groans and catcalls filled the air, mingled with cries of

`Fraud!’ `Imposter!’ `Give us our money back!’ `Let’s wreck the ‘all!’

and so on.

`Come on ‘ere,’ cried Philpot, putting his hand on Owen’s shoulder.

`Prove that money is the cause of poverty.’

`It’s one thing to say it and another to prove it,’ sneered Crass, who

was anxious for an opportunity to produce the long-deferred Obscurer

cutting.

`Money IS the real cause of poverty,’ said Owen.

`Prove it,’ repeated Crass.

`Money is the cause of poverty because it is the device by which those

who are too lazy to work are enabled to rob the workers of the fruits

of their labours.’

`Prove it,’ said Crass.

Owen slowly folded up the piece of newspaper he had been reading and

put it into his pocket.

`All right,’ he replied. `I’ll show you how the Great Money Trick is

worked.’

Owen opened his dinner basket and took from it two slices of bread but

as these were not sufficient, he requested that anyone who had some

bread left would give it to him. They gave him several pieces, which

he placed in a heap on a clean piece of paper, and, having borrowed

the pocket knives they used to cut and eat their dinners with from

Easton, Harlow and Philpot, he addressed them as follows:

`These pieces of bread represent the raw materials which exist

naturally in and on the earth for the use of mankind; they were not

made by any human being, but were created by the Great Spirit for the

benefit and sustenance of all, the same as were the air and the light

of the sun.’

`You’re about as fair-speakin’ a man as I’ve met for some time,’ said

Harlow, winking at the others.

`Yes, mate,’ said Philpot. `Anyone would agree to that much! It’s as

clear as mud.’

`Now,’ continued Owen, `I am a capitalist; or, rather, I represent the

landlord and capitalist class. That is to say, all these raw

materials belong to me. It does not matter for our present argument

how I obtained possession of them, or whether I have any real right to

them; the only thing that matters now is the admitted fact that all

the raw materials which are necessary for the production of the

necessaries of life are now the property of the Landlord and

Capitalist class. I am that class: all these raw materials belong to

me.’

`Good enough!’ agreed Philpot.

`Now you three represent the Working class: you have nothing - and for

my part, although I have all these raw materials, they are of no use

to me - what need is - the things that can be made out of these raw

materials by Work: but as I am too lazy to work myself, I have

invented the Money Trick to make you work FOR me. But first I must

explain that I possess something else beside the raw materials. These

three knives represent - all the machinery of production; the

factories, tools, railways, and so forth, without which the

necessaries of life cannot be produced in abundance. And these three

coins’ - taking three halfpennies from his pocket - `represent my

Money Capital.’

`But before we go any further,’ said Owen, interrupting himself, `it

is most important that you remember that I am not supposed to be

merely “a” capitalist. I represent the whole Capitalist Class. You

are not supposed to be just three workers - you represent the whole

Working Class.’

`All right, all right,’ said Crass, impatiently, `we all understand

that. Git on with it.’

Owen proceeded to cut up one of the slices of bread into a number of

little square blocks.

`These represent the things which are produced by labour, aided by

machinery, from the raw materials. We will suppose that three of

these blocks represent - a week’s work. We will suppose that a week’s

work is worth - one pound: and we will suppose that each of these

ha’pennies is a sovereign. We’d be able to do the trick better if we

had real sovereigns, but I forgot to bring any with me.’

`I’d lend you some,’ said Philpot, regretfully, `but I left me purse

on our grand pianner.’

As by a strange coincidence nobody happened to have any gold with

them, it was decided to make shift with the halfpence.

`Now this is the way the trick works -‘

`Before you goes on with it,’ interrupted Philpot, apprehensively,

`don’t you think we’d better ‘ave someone to keep watch at the gate in

case a Slop comes along? We don’t want to get runned in, you know.’

`I don’ think there’s any need for that,’ replied Owen, `there’s only

one slop who’d interfere with us for playing this game, and that’s

Police Constable Socialism.’

`Never mind about Socialism,’ said Crass, irritably. `Get along with

the bloody trick.’

Owen now addressed himself to the working classes as represented by

Philpot, Harlow and Easton.

`You say that you are all in need of employment, and as I am the

kind-hearted capitalist class I am going to invest all my money in

various industries, so as to give you Plenty of Work. I shall pay

each of you one pound per week, and a week’s work is - you must each

produce three of these square blocks. For doing this work you will

each receive your wages; the money will be your own, to do as you like

with, and the things you produce will of course be mine, to do as I

like with. You will each take one of these machines and as soon as

you have