The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists
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第45章

in fact, he knew a great deal about the trade already - he could paint back doors as well as anybody! and railings as well.Owen had taught him lots of things and had promised to do some patterns of graining for him so that he might practise copying them at home in the evenings.Owen was a fine chap.Bert resolved that he would tell him what Crass had been saying to Easton.Just fancy, the cheek of a rotter like Crass, trying to get Owen the sack! It would be more like it if Crass was to be sacked himself, so that Owen could be the foreman.

One minute to ten.

With a heavy heart Bert watched the clock.His legs were still aching very badly.He could not see the hands of the clock moving, but they were creeping on all the same.Now, the minute hand was over the edge of the number, and he began to deliberate whether he might not rest for another five minutes? But he had been such a long time already on his errand that he dismissed the thought.The minute hand was now upright and it was time to go on.

Just as he was about to get up a harsh voice behind him said:

`How much longer are you going to sit there?'

Bert started up guiltily, and found himself confronted by Mr Rushton, who was regarding him with an angry frown, whilst close by towered the colossal figure of the obese Sweater, the expression on his greasy countenance betokening the pain he experienced on beholding such as appalling example of juvenile depravity.

`What do you mean by sich conduct?' demanded Rushton, indignantly.

`The idear of sitting there like that when most likely the men are waiting for them things?'

Crimson with shame and confusion, the boy made no reply.

`You've been there a long time,' continued Rushton, `I've been watchin' you all the time I've been comin' down the road.'

Bert tried to speak to explain why he had been resting, but his mouth and his tongue had become quite parched from terror and he was unable to articulate a single word.

`You know, that's not the way to get on in life, my boy,' observed Sweater lifting his forefinger and shaking his fat head reproachfully.

`Get along with you at once!' Rushton said, roughly.`I'm surprised at yer! The idear! Sitting down in my time!'

This was quite true.Rushton was not merely angry, but astonished at the audacity of the boy.That anyone in his employment should dare to have the impertinence to sit down in his time was incredible.

The boy lifted the handle of the cart and once more began to push it up the hill.It seemed heavier now that ever, but he managed to get on somehow.He kept glancing back after Rushton and Sweater, who presently turned a corner and were lost to view: then he ran the cart to the kerb again to have a breathe.He couldn't have kept up much further without a spell even if they had still been watching him, but he didn't rest for more than about half a minute this time, because he was afraid they might be peeping round the corner at him.

After this he gave up the lamp-post system and halted for a minute or so at regular short intervals.In this way, he at length reached the top of the hill, and with a sigh of relief congratulated himself that the journey was practically over.

Just before he arrived at the gate of the house, he saw Hunter sneak out and mount his bicycle and ride away.Bert wheeled his cart up to the front door and began carrying in the things.Whilst thus engaged he noticed Philpot peeping cautiously over the banisters of the staircase, and called out to him:

`Give us a hand with this bucket of whitewash, will yer, Joe?'

`Certainly, me son, with the greatest of hagony,' replied Philpot as he hurried down the stairs.

As they were carrying it in Philpot winked at Bert and whispered:

`Did yer see Pontius Pilate anywheres outside?'

`'E went away on 'is bike just as I come in at the gate.'

`Did 'e? Thank Gord for that! I don't wish 'im no 'arm,' said Philpot, fervently, `but I 'opes 'e gets runned over with a motor.'

In this wish Bert entirely concurred, and similar charitable sentiments were expressed by all the others as soon as they heard that Misery was gone.

Just before four o'clock that afternoon Bert began to load up the truck with the venetian blinds, which had been taken down some days previously.