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

think that it was all because of the way he had behaved to her in the

public house, but when he apologized - as he did several times - and

begged her to forgive him and forget about it, she always said it was

all right; there was nothing to forgive. Then, after a time, he began

to think it was on account of their poverty and the loss of their

home, for nearly all their furniture had been sold during the last

winter. But whenever he talked of trying to buy some more things to

make the place comfortable again, she did not appear to take any

interest: the house was neat enough as it was: they could manage very

well, she said, indifferently.

One evening, about the middle of June, when he had been over to the

allotments, Easton brought her home a bunch of flowers that Harlow had

given him - some red and white roses and some pansies. When he came

in, Ruth was packing his food basket for the next day. The baby was

asleep in its cot on the floor near the window. Although it was

nearly nine o’clock the lamp had not yet been lighted and the mournful

twilight that entered the room through the open window increased the

desolation of its appearance. The fire had burnt itself out and the

grate was filled with ashes. On the hearth was an old rug made of

jute that had once been printed in bright colours which had faded away

till the whole surface had become almost uniformly drab, showing

scarcely any trace of the original pattern. The rest of the floor was

bare except for two or three small pieces of old carpet that Ruth had

bought for a few pence at different times at some inferior second-hand

shop. The chairs and the table were almost the only things that were

left of the original furniture of the room, and except for three or

four plates of different patterns and sizes and a few cups and

saucers, the shelves of the dresser were bare.

The stillness of the atmosphere was disturbed only by the occasional

sound of the wheels of a passing vehicle and the strangely distinct

voices of some children who were playing in the street.

`I’ve brought you these,’ said Easton, offering her the flowers. `I

thought you’d like them. I got them from Harlow. You know I’ve been

helping him a little with his garden.’

At first he thought she did not want to take them. She was standing

at the table with her back to the window, so that he was unable to see

the expression of her face, and she hesitated for a moment before she

faltered out some words of thanks and took the flowers, which she put

down on the table almost as soon as she touched them.

Offended at what he considered her contemptuous indifference, Easton

made no further attempt at conversation but went into the scullery to

wash his hands, and then went up to bed.

Downstairs, for a long time after he was gone, Ruth sat alone by the

fireless grate, in the silence and the gathering shadows, holding the

bunch of flowers in her hand, living over again the events of the last

year, and consumed with an agony of remorse.

The presence of Mary Linden and the two children in the house probably

saved Ruth from being more unhappy than she was. Little Elsie had

made an arrangement with her to be allowed to take the baby out for

walks, and in return Ruth did Elsie’s housework. As for Mary, she had

not much time to do anything but sew, almost the only relaxation she

knew being when she took the work home, and on Sunday, which she

usually devoted to a general clean-up of the room, and to mending the

children’s clothes. Sometimes on Sunday evening she used to go with

Ruth and the children to see Mrs Owen, who, although she was not ill

enough to stay in bed, seldom went out of the house. She had never

really recovered from the attack of illness which was brought on by

her work at the boarding house. The doctor had been to see her once

or twice and had prescribed - rest. She was to lie down as much as

possible, not to do any heavy work - not to carry or lift any heavy

articles, scrub floors, make beds, or anything of that sort: and she

was to take plenty of nourishing food, beef tea, chicken, a little

wine and so on. He did not suggest a trip round the world in a steam

yacht or a visit to Switzerland - perhaps he thought they might not be

able to afford it. Sometimes she was so ill that she had to observe

one at least of the doctor’s instructions - to lie down: and then she

would worry and fret because she was not able to do the housework and

because Owen had to prepare his own tea when he came home at night.

On one of these occasions it would have been necessary for Owen to

stay at home from work if it had not been for Mrs Easton, who came for

several days in succession to look after her and attend to the house.

Fortunately, Owen’s health was better since the weather had become

warmer. For a long time after the attack of haemorrhage he had while

writing the showcard he used to dread going to sleep at night for

fear it should recur. He had heard of people dying in their sleep

from that cause. But this terror gradually left him. Nora knew

nothing of what occurred that night: to have told her would have done

no good, but on the contrary would have caused her a lot of useless

anxiety. Sometimes he doubted whether it was right not to tell her,

but as time went by and his health continued to improve he was glad he

had said nothing about it.

Frankie had lately resumed his athletic exercises with the flat iron:

his strength was returning since Owen had been working regularly,

because he had been having his porridge and milk again and also some

Parrish’s Food which a chemist at Windley was selling large bottles of

for a shilling. He used to have what he called a `party’ two or three

times a week with Elsie, Charley and Easton’s baby as the guests.

Sometimes, if Mrs Owen were not well, Elsie used to stay in with her

after tea and do some housework while the boys went out to play, but

more frequently the four children used to go together to the park to

play or sail boats on the lake. Once one of the boats was becalmed

about a couple of yards from shore and while trying to reach it with a

stick Frankie fell into the water, and when Charley tried to drag him

out he fell in also. Elsie put the baby down on the bank and seized

hold of Charley and while she was trying to get him out, the baby

began rolling down, and would probably have tumbled in as well if a

man who happened to be passing by had not rushed up in time to prevent

it. Fortunately the water at that place was only about two feet deep,

so the boys were not much the worse for their ducking. They returned

home wet through, smothered with mud, and feeling very important, like

boys who had distinguished themselves.

After this, whenever she could manage to spare the time, Ruth Easton

used to go with the children to the park. There was a kind of

summer-house near the shore of the lake, only a few feet away from the

water’s edge, surrounded and shaded by trees, whose branches arched

over the path and drooped down to the surface of the water. While the

children played Ruth used to sit in this arbour and sew, but often her

work was neglected and forgotten as she gazed pensively at the water,

which just there looked very still, and dark, and deep, for it was

sheltered from the wind and over-shadowed by the trees that lined the

banks at the end of the lake.

Sometimes, if it happened to be raining, instead of going out the

children used to have some games in the house. On one such occasion

Frankie produced the flat iron and went through the exercise, and

Charley had a go as well. But although he was slightly older and

taller than Frankie he could not lift the iron so often or hold it out

so long as the other, a failure that Frankie attributed to the fact

that Charley had too much tea and bread and butter instead of porridge

and milk and Parrish’s Food. Charley was so upset about his lack of

strength that he arranged with Frankie to come home with him the next

day after school to see his mother about it. Mrs Linden had a flat

iron, so they gave a demonstration of their respective powers before

her. Mrs Easton being also present, by request, because Frankie said

that the diet in question was suitable for babies as well as big

children. He had been brought up on it ever since he could remember,

and it was almost as cheap as bread and butter and tea.

The result of the exhibition was that Mrs Linden promised to make

porridge for Charley and Elsie whenever she could spare the time, and

Mrs Easton said she would try it for the baby also.