书城公版The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists
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第105章

`Will you bring me a pint back with you, in a bottle?' asked Easton.

`Yes, certainly,' said Philpot.

Harlow said nothing.He also would have liked a pint of beer, but, as was usual with him, he had not the necessary cash.Having restored the circulation to a certain extent, they now resumed their work, and only just in time, for a few minutes afterwards they observed Misery peeping round the corner of the house at them and they wondered how long he had been there, and whether he had overheard their conversation.

At twelve o'clock Crass and Slyme cleared off in a great hurry, and a little while afterwards, Philpot took off his apron and put on his coat to go to the `Cricketers'.When the others found out where he was going, several of them asked him to bring back a drink for them, and then someone suggested that all those who wanted some beer should give twopence each.This was done: one shilling and fourpence was collected and given to Philpot, who was to bring back a gallon of beer in a jar.He promised to get back as soon as ever he could, and some of the shareholders decided not to drink any tea with their dinners, but to wait for the beer, although they knew that it would be nearly time to resume work before he could get back.It would be a quarter to one at the very earliest.

The minutes dragged slowly by, and after a while the only man on the job who had a watch began to lose his temper and refused to answer any more inquiries concerning the time.So presently Bert was sent up to the top of the house to look at a church clock which was visible therefrom, and when he came down he reported that it was ten minutes to one.

Symptoms of anxiety now began to manifest themselves amongst the shareholders, several of whom went down to the main road to see if Philpot was yet in sight, but each returned with the same report -they could see nothing of him.

No one was formally `in charge' of the job during Crass's absence, but they all returned to their work promptly at one because they feared that Sawkins or some other sneak might report any irregularity to Crass or Misery.

At a quarter-past one, Philpot was still missing and the uneasiness of the shareholders began to develop into a panic.Some of them plainly expressed the opinion that he had gone on the razzle with the money.

As the time wore on, this became the general opinion.At two o'clock, all hope of his return having been abandoned, two or three of the shareholders went and drank some of the cold tea.

Their fears were only too well founded, for they saw no more of Philpot till the next morning, when he arrived looking very sheepish and repentant and promised to refund all the money on Saturday.He also made a long, rambling statement from which it appeared that on his way to the `Cricketers' he met a couple of chaps whom he knew who were out of work, and he invited them to come and have a drink.When they got to the pub, they found there the Semi-drunk and the Besotted Wretch.One drink led to another, and then they started arguing, and he had forgotten all about the gallon of beer until he woke up this morning.

Whilst Philpot was making this explanation they were putting on their aprons and blouses, and Crass was serving out the lots of colour.

Slyme took no part in the conversation, but got ready as quickly as possible and went outside to make a start.The reason for this haste soon became apparent to some of the others, for they noticed that he had selected and commenced painting a large window that was so situated as to be sheltered from the keen wind that was blowing.

The basement of the house was slightly below the level of the ground and there was a sort of a trench or area about three feet deep in front of the basement windows.The banks of this trench were covered with rose trees and evergreens, and the bottom was a mass of slimy, evil-smelling, rain-sodden earth, foul with the excrement of nocturnal animals.To second-coat these basement windows, Philpot and Harlow had to get down into and stand in all this filth, which soaked through the worn and broken soles of their boots.As they worked, the thorns of the rose trees caught and tore their clothing and lacerated the flesh of their half-frozen hands.

Owen and Easton were working on ladders doing the windows immediately above Philpot and Harlow, Sawkins, on another ladder, was painting one of the gables, and the other men were working at different parts of the outside of the house.The boy Bert was painting the iron railings of the front fence.The weather was bitterly cold, the sun was concealed by the dreary expanse of grey cloud that covered the wintry sky.

As they stood there working most of the time they were almost perfectly motionless, the only part of their bodies that were exercised being their right arms.The work they were now doing required to be done very carefully and deliberately, otherwise the glass would be `messed up' or the white paint of the frames would `run into' the dark green of the sashes, both colours being wet at the same time, each man having two pots of paint and two sets of brushes.The wind was not blowing in sudden gusts, but swept by in a strong, persistent current that penetrated their clothing and left them trembling and numb with cold.It blew from the right; and it was all the worse on that account, because the right arm, being in use, left that side of the body fully exposed.They were able to keep their left hands in their trousers pockets and the left arm close to the side most of the time.This made a lot of difference.

Another reason why it is worse when the wind strikes upon one from the right side is that the buttons on a man's coat are always on the right side, and consequently the wind gets underneath.Philpot realized this all the more because some of the buttons on his coat and waistcoat were missing.