The Soldier's Children During most of this time, Jack Linden's daughter-in-law had `Plenty of Work', making blouses and pinafores for Sweater & Co.She had so much to do that one might have thought that the Tory Millennium had arrived, and that Tariff Reform was already an accomplished fact.
She had Plenty of Work.
At first they had employed her exclusively on the cheapest kind of blouses - those that were paid for at the rate of two shillings a dozen, but they did not give her many of that sort now.She did the work so neatly that they kept her busy on the better qualities, which did not pay her so well, because although she was paid more per dozen, there was a great deal more work in them than in the cheaper kinds.
Once she had a very special one to make, for which she was paid six shillings; but it took her four and a half days - working early and late - to do it.The lady who bought this blouse was told that it came from Paris, and paid three guineas for it.But of course Mrs Linden knew nothing of that, and even if she had known, it would have made no difference to her.
Most of the money she earned went to pay the rent, and sometimes there was only two or three shillings left to buy food for all of them:
sometimes not even so much, because although she had Plenty of Work she was not always able to do it.There were times when the strain of working the machine was unendurable: her shoulders ached, her arms became cramped, and her eyes pained so that it was impossible to continue.Then for a change she would leave the sewing and do some housework.
Once, when they owed four weeks' rent, the agent was so threatening that they were terrified at the thought of being sold up and turned out of the house, and so she decided to sell the round mahogany table and some of the other things out of the sitting-room.Nearly all the furniture that was in the house now belonged to her, and had formed her home before her husband died.The old people had given most of their things away at different times to their other sons since she had come to live there.These men were all married and all in employment.
One was a fitter at the gasworks; the second was a railway porter, and the other was a butcher; but now that the old man was out of work they seldom came to the house.The last time they had been there was on Christmas Eve, and then there had been such a terrible row between them that the children had been awakened by it and frightened nearly out of their lives.The cause of the row was that some time previously they had mutually agreed to each give a shilling a week to the old people.They had done this for three weeks and after that the butcher had stopped his contribution: it had occurred to him that he was not to be expected to help to keep his brother's widow and her children.If the old people liked to give up the house and go to live in a room somewhere by themselves, he would continue paying his shilling a week, but not otherwise.Upon this the railway porter and the gas-fitter also ceased paying.They said it wasn't fair that they should pay a shilling a week each when the butcher - who was the eldest and earned the best wages - paid nothing.Provided he paid, they would pay; but if he didn't pay anything, neither would they.On Christmas Eve they all happened to come to the house at the same time;each denounced the others, and after nearly coming to blows they all went away raging and cursing and had not been near the place since.
As soon as she decided to sell the things, Mary went to Didlum's second-hand furniture store, and the manager said he would ask Mr Didlum to call and see the table and other articles.She waited anxiously all the morning, but he did not appear, so she went once more to the shop to remind him.When he did come at last he was very contemptuous of the table and of everything else she offered to sell.
Five shillings was the very most he could think of giving for the table, and even then he doubted whether he would ever get his money back.Eventually he gave her thirty shillings for the table, the overmantel, the easy chair, three other chairs and the two best pictures - one a large steel engraving of `The Good Samaritan' and the other `Christ Blessing Little Children'.
He paid the money at once; half an hour afterwards the van came to take the things away, and when they were gone, Mary sank down on the hearthrug in the wrecked room and sobbed as if her heart would break.
This was the first of several similar transactions.Slowly, piece by piece, in order to buy food and to pay the rent, the furniture was sold.Every time Didlum came he affected to be doing them a very great favour by buying the things at all.Almost an act of charity.
He did not want them.Business was so bad: it might be years before he could sell them again, and so on.Once or twice he asked Mary if she did not want to sell the clock - the one that her late husband had made for his mother, but Mary shrank from the thought of selling this, until at last there was nothing else left that Didlum would buy, and one week, when Mary was too ill to do any needlework - it had to go.
He gave them ten shillings for it.
Mary had expected the old woman to be heartbroken at having to part with this clock, but she was surprised to see her almost indifferent.
The truth was, that lately both the old people seemed stunned, and incapable of taking an intelligent interest in what was happening around them, and Mary had to attend to everything.