`You may be sure it won't be Sawkins or any of the other light-weights, because Nimrod won't want to pay us sixpence ha'penny for painting guttering and rainpipes when THEY can do it near enough for fourpence ha'penny and fivepence.They won't be able to do the sashes, though, will they?'
`I don't know so much about that,' replied Easton.`Anything seems to be good enough for Hunter.'
`Look out! Ere 'e comes!' said Harlow, and they both relapsed into silence and busied themselves with their work.Misery stood watching them for some time without speaking, and then went out of the house.
They crept cautiously to the window of a room that overlooked the garden and, peeping furtively out, they saw him standing on the brink of one of the trenches, moodily watching Bundy and his mates as they toiled at the drains.Then, to their surprise and relief, he turned and went out of the gate! They just caught sight of one of the wheels of his bicycle as he rode away.
The slaughter was evidently to be put off until next week! It seemed too good to be true.
`P'hap's 'e's left a message for some of us with Crass?' suggested Easton.`I don't think it's likely, but it's just possible.'
`Well, I'm goin' down to ask 'im,' said Harlow, desperately.`We may as well know the worst at once.'
He returned in a few minutes with the information that Hunter had decided not to stop anyone that day because he wanted to get the outside finished during the next week, if possible.
The hands received this intelligence with mixed feelings, because although it left them safe for the present, it meant that nearly everybody would certainly be stopped next Saturday, if not before;whereas if a few had been sacked today it would have made it all the better for the rest.Still, this aspect of the business did not greatly interfere with the relief that they all felt at knowing that the immediate danger was over; and the fact that it was Saturday -pay-day - also served to revive their drooping spirits.They all felt pretty certain that Misery would return no more that day, and presently Harlow began to sing the old favourite.`Work! for the night is coming!' the refrain of which was soon taken up by nearly everyone in the house:
`Work! for the night is coming, Work in the morning hours.
Work! for the night is coming, Work 'mid springing flowers.
`Work while the dew is sparkling, Work in the noonday sun!
Work! for the night is coming When man's work is done!'
When this hymn was finished, someone else, imitating the whine of a street-singer, started, `Oh, where is my wandering boy tonight?' and then Harlow - who by some strange chance had a penny - took it out of his pocket and dropped it on the floor, the ringing of the coin being greeted with shouts of `Thank you, kind lady,' from several of the singers.This little action of Harlow's was the means of bringing a most extraordinary circumstance to light.Although it was Saturday morning, several of the others had pennies or half-pence! and at the conclusion of each verse they all followed Harlow's example and the house resounded with the ringing of falling coins, cries of `Thank you, kind lady,' `Thank you, sir,' and `Gord bless you,' mingled with shouts of laughter.
`My wandering boy' was followed by a choice selection of choruses of well-known music-hall songs, including `Goodbye, my Bluebell', `The Honeysuckle and the Bee', `I've got 'em!' and `The Church Parade', the whole being tastefully varied and interspersed with howls, shrieks, curses, catcalls, and downward explosions of flatulence.
In the midst of the uproar Crass came upstairs.
`'Ere!' he shouted.`For Christ's sake make less row! Suppose Nimrod was to come back!'
`Oh, he ain't comin' any more today,' said Harlow, recklessly.
`Besides, what if 'e does come?' cried Easton.`Oo cares for 'im?'
`Well, we never know; and for that matter Rushton or Sweater might come at any minit.'
With this, Crass went muttering back to the scullery, and the men relapsed into their usual silence.
At ten minutes to one they all ceased work, put away their colours and locked up the house.There were a number of `empties' to be taken away and left at the yard on their way to the office; these Crass divided amongst the others - carrying nothing himself - and then they all set out for the office to get their money, cracking jokes as they went along.Harlow and Easton enlivened the journey by coughing significantly whenever they met a young woman, and audibly making some complimentary remark about her personal appearance.If the girl smiled, each of them eagerly claimed to have `seen her first', but if she appeared offended or `stuck up', they suggested that she was cross-cut or that she had been eating vinegar with a fork.Now and then they kissed their hands affectionately to servant-girls whom they saw looking out of windows.Some of these girls laughed, others looked indignant, but whichever way they took it was equally amusing to Crass and the rest, who were like a crowd of boys just let out of school.
It will be remembered that there was a back door to Rushton's office;in this door was a small sliding panel or trap-door with a little shelf at the bottom.The men stood in the road on the pavement outside the closed door, their money being passed out to them through the sliding panel.As there was no shelter, when it rained they occasionally got wet through while waiting to be paid.With some firms it is customary to call out the names of the men and pay them in order of seniority or ability, but there was no such system here; the man who got to the aperture first was paid first, and so on.The result was that there was always a sort of miniature `Battle of Life', the men pushing and struggling against each other as if their lives depended upon their being paid by a certain time.