ONE OF THE MULTITUDE
 
 ONE OF THE 
 MULTITUDE 
 
 BY 
 
 GEORGE ACORN 
 WITH INTRODUCTION 
 BY ARTHUR C. BENSON 
 
 NEW YORK 
 DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY 
 
 MCMXII
 
 Printed in England
 
 The child, the seed, the grain of corn, 
 
 The acorn on the hill ; 
 Each for some separate end is born 
 
 In season fit, and still 
 Each must in strength arise to work 
 
 The Almighty will. 
 
 R. L. STEVENSON. 
 
 2134081
 
 TO 
 
 MY FRIEND X ... 
 
 AT WHOSE SUGGESTION I HAVE 
 WRITTEN THIS BOOK 
 
 Dear X . . . 
 
 A year has passed since you asked me to write some of 
 my life, and spoke of the interest that would attach to any 
 absolutely true revealing of a human soul. 
 Here it is. 
 
 I have called it " ONE OF THE MULTITUDE," 
 but it is probably one of many such; isolated souls 
 struggling in obedience to inner promptings, which are at 
 first thought a nuisance, and later recognized as some divine 
 mystery or miracle. 
 
 All is literally true, nothing assumed but names. 
 The book is but an imperfect record, a poor thing, 
 maybe, but " One's " own ; and perhaps the public will 
 recognize that experiences LIVED, and written down 
 however poorly, are of more real value and interest than 
 imaginary fictions beautifully disguised. 
 
 Yours sincerely, 
 
 GEORGE ACORN.
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 I HAVE been asked to say a few words to 
 introduce this book, and I do it very gladly, 
 although the author of it is not personally 
 known to me. The reason why I am glad, and 
 more than glad, to do it, is because the book is 
 a piece of the authentic stuff of life. I have 
 reason to believe, and indeed to know, that the 
 record is literally and exactly true, and thus it is 
 valuable for many reasons. It would be easy 
 enough for those who have not experienced and 
 shared in a life like this except perhaps in a 
 passing mood of sympathetic experiment to 
 construct a picturesque and melodramatic 
 tragedy or comedy on such lines. I can 
 imagine a young and generous man, who had 
 thrown himself into the task of studying the 
 social problem of the life of the poor in a great 
 town, being able to construct a salient picture 
 out of the things that he had heard and seen in
 
 x INTRODUCTION 
 
 such regions. But take the case of a clergyman, 
 or a worker in a settlement, or an independent 
 philanthropist, who had gone in and out of such 
 homes, and seen the awful and bewildering 
 details of the lowest and most helpless lives 
 displayed day by day before him. Such a man 
 might produce a picture, and in many ways a 
 truthful picture, of the state of affairs. But his 
 power of presenting the case would be vitiated 
 by two facts. He would, in the first place, be 
 in the position of one who was studying the 
 problem in a more or less scientific spirit. He 
 would be concerned with the economic causes 
 of such conditions, and with the consideration 
 of possible amendment and solution. And, in 
 the second place, such a man would not be one 
 on whom the urgent features of the problem 
 would be vitally and actually pressing hour by 
 hour. He would be like one who had sallied 
 out from a stronghold of his own, a stronghold 
 to which he could return for rest and refresh- 
 ment. He would have a background of cul- 
 ture, of religion, of companionship, and he 
 would be as an explorer, or a pioneer, or a
 
 INTRODUCTION xi 
 
 missionary. His heart and mind might be 
 deeply concerned with the dreadful mystery, 
 the inconceivable entanglement of it all; but 
 he would not have the whole horizon of his life 
 hopelessly encumbered with difficulties and 
 obstacles, and appearing at once narrow and 
 insurmountable. 
 
 But this book is the work of one who has 
 gone in and out among these scenes, who has 
 had his daily bread to earn, who has had to live 
 and work and sleep in surroundings which 
 menaced all peace and order and decency ; and 
 who, however ardently and passionately he may 
 have desired to escape from brutalizing con- 
 ditions into a world of settled and serene life, 
 into intellectual thoughts and fine emotions 
 the things that seemed so near to his hand, and 
 yet so hopelessly out of his reach yet had to 
 feel that he had only his own strength and 
 energies to depend upon for any conquest he 
 might ultimately achieve. The writer, con- 
 scious of his right to share the beautiful and 
 stainless inheritance of the outer world, had to 
 face the fact that he could not, under present
 
 xii INTRODUCTION 
 
 conditions, claim it for his own, but must fight 
 his way stubbornly to the light; and that there 
 must be little dallying by the way with leisurely 
 and even inspiring things, until he had earned, 
 by industry and temperance and enterprise, the 
 power to touch and taste the things which we 
 are optimistically inclined to speak of as being, 
 in our democratic age, freely offered to all. 
 
 The narrative that here expands itself brings 
 one some very dark and troubled thoughts; 
 and yet withal a certain definite faith, and 
 even a hope in the possible realization, after 
 what sad and protracted interval of struggle we 
 cannot know, of a high and joyful vision of the 
 future. 
 
 In the first place, the thing that has seemed 
 to me wonderful and infinitely encouraging is 
 the fact that a boy brought up in these con- 
 ditions, or rather struggling up like a flower in 
 a tangle of weeds, can yet preserve and main- 
 tain a real and deep innocence and purity of 
 heart. I know that the writer had often, in the 
 workshop and in the street, to hear talk of in- 
 finite defilement and pollution. We need not
 
 INTRODUCTION xiii 
 
 be timidly and primly refined in our treatment 
 of such things. A plainness of speech on sexual 
 matters, and a frank realization of physical 
 facts and processes, is not in the least incon- 
 sistent with real purity and true refinement. 
 The danger is, not to realize these things, but 
 to dwell upon them bestially and pruriently, as 
 the vile and harmful distractions of a life where 
 there is little to distract or entertain. To be 
 scandalized by grossness is a mere sentimental- 
 ism; and the frankness of speech on such 
 matters, which prevails among people who live 
 where privacy is an impossible luxury, may be 
 less corrupting than the hint, the innuendo, the 
 suggestive glance and gesture of those clad in 
 soft raiment and familiar with the houses of kings. 
 But the blessed fact is here, that purity of 
 heart is indeed possible under such conditions, 
 in rooms where boy and girl, adult and child, 
 are herded together in promiscuous contact, if 
 only the thought is occupied with generous 
 curiosities and more fragrant visions. This is 
 the first thought, and it is deeply moving and 
 encouraging.
 
 xiv INTRODUCTION 
 
 And then there comes a second thought 
 treading close on the heels of the first. I freely 
 confess that I have little knowledge of such 
 conditions, and no economic training. But I 
 discern, or seem to discern, in every page of 
 this book that the real problem is not wholly a 
 material one, though it is much bound up with 
 material conditions. 
 
 It is clear from this book that it is not ulti- 
 mately money that makes the difference, but 
 something far removed from money. Such 
 problems as are here involved cannot be solved 
 by a mere diffusion of wealth. I can well 
 understand that a man, sick at heart at the 
 hideous havoc which the lack just of the 
 ordinary means of life may work, might be 
 tempted to think that only by a rigorous and 
 widespread equalization of our resources could 
 anything be achieved. I can understand that 
 one like the writer of this book, thinking of the 
 lives of useless, lavish, selfish, wealthy persons, 
 dwelling in stately houses, with all the markets 
 of the world ransacked to bring them delicacies 
 of food and drink, with the comfort of art and
 
 INTRODUCTION xv 
 
 music and literature hardly heeded, except as 
 a momentary distraction, with elaborate sport 
 artificially created about them I can well con- 
 ceive that such thoughts might nurture a hope 
 of violent and ruthless revolution. 
 
 And yet the book makes it abundantly clear 
 that even wholesale confiscation would do 
 nothing, or nearly nothing, to amend these 
 conditions. Indeed, that such an equalization 
 might be demanded more in the interests of the 
 rich than in the interests of the poor ! Too 
 many of the characters here depicted would 
 gain nothing but increased opportunities for 
 self-indulgence from such a change. What is 
 the use of leisure to men and women who have 
 no idea how to employ it? Wealth would put 
 a varnish of money, so to speak, over people 
 who have no aptitude to use it. 
 
 Moreover, one feels that if all the boys and 
 young men whose lives are here touched upon 
 had been like the writer of the book he will 
 forgive me if I frankly praise his purpose and 
 his temperament the society portrayed could 
 have been decent and good. It is waste and
 
 xvi INTRODUCTION 
 
 recklessness and self-indulgence that work the 
 mischief. More money in such hands would 
 only make things worse. It is the raising of 
 the whole type that is desirable, and, one ven- 
 tures to think, ultimately possible. The prob- 
 lem is not how to organize society as it is, but 
 how to uplift it; how to give all opportunities 
 for orderly life and security and honest work; 
 not how to enable the greedy and unscrupulous 
 to be a little more idle. 
 
 There are many more problems suggested 
 by the book such, for instance, as how to 
 amend the careless begetting of children 
 which are too technical to discuss here. 
 Ami one is beset, too, by perplexity as to 
 how, by what machinery, the change is to be 
 produced. 
 
 The effects of a University Settlement are 
 here gratefully acknowledged. But though one 
 must not say a grudging word against the un- 
 selfish and high-spirited labours of such workers 
 in the field, I cannot help feeling that the value 
 of their work is primarily, so to speak, scientific ; 
 that it lies rather in the study and the present-
 
 INTRODUCTION xvii 
 
 ment of such problems, and the leading of 
 careless and unimaginative and sheltered 
 people plainly to realize what the stress and 
 urgency of the whole is. The amendment of 
 it all cannot be made by people nurtured under 
 more wholesome and fine ideals coming forward, 
 however generously, and handing out such 
 fragments of culture and religion as they can 
 share with broken hearts and helpless hands. 
 It must grow up from within, in its own way 
 and on its own lines. At present the one prac- 
 tical hope seems to lie in education ; in bringing 
 children at an impressionable age in touch with 
 orderly systems and interesting ideas and finer 
 purposes and in touch, too, with kindly and 
 self-restrained and honest teachers, who can 
 show out radiantly, in look and gesture and 
 word, the happiness of the well-ordered and 
 peaceable life. There may be countless fail- 
 ures, and there will be. A child preserved for 
 a time from gross and hateful influences may 
 be whirled off its feet and submerged again. 
 We cannot, perhaps, mend lives of which the 
 very essence is impaired. But we may hope
 
 xviii INTRODUCTION 
 
 that generation after generation may come more 
 swiftly and surely to the light. 
 
 There is much more that I could say, but I 
 will not stand any longer between the story and 
 its audience. I will only add that the book, in 
 spite of its sad and sordid experiences, leaves 
 me hopeful and encouraged; deeply conscious 
 of the urgency and momentousness of the prob- 
 lem, but with a firm belief that the enigma is 
 solving itself, and that the surest sign of this is 
 the fact that such a life as is here described can 
 yet pick its way without stain through the mire, 
 and successfully claim its share in the best and 
 richest inheritance of men the inheritance of 
 light and beauty and truth. 
 
 ARTHUR C. BENSON.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAP. PAGE 
 
 I "OUT OF THE EVERYWHERE INTO A SLUM" I 
 
 II EARLY EVENTS ..... 9 
 
 in THE "STREET ARAB" .... 14 
 
 IV SCHOOL ....... 24 
 
 V " DAVID COPPERFIELD " .... 28 
 
 VI THE TRAPPINGS OF WOE .... 40 
 
 VII GAMES AND CREEDS ..... 47 
 
 VIII STAGE-STRUCK . . . . -53 
 
 IX THE COMMON ROUND ..... 63 
 
 X DEPTHS ....... 70 
 
 XI STILL DEEPER ... 77 
 
 XII SOME NEIGHBOURS . . . . . 8l 
 
 XIII THE CALL OF SPRING . . . . 9 1 
 
 XIV MUSICAL ... -97 
 XV I AM LAUNCHED ... . 106 
 
 XVI SOME EMPLOYERS . . . . . Il8 
 
 xvn A VERY "DEAD CERT" .... 127 
 
 XVIII DORLAND STREET CHAPEL . . 140 
 
 xix
 
 xx CONTENTS 
 
 CHAP. PAGE 
 
 xix THE "INNER SOCIAL CIRCLE" . . . 152 
 
 XX A YOUNG LADY 162 
 
 XXI MY UNLOVED FRIEND 171 
 
 XXII DISILLUSION AND A " NORATION " . . l8o 
 
 XXIII OUT OF WORK 1 90 
 
 XXIV OUR INDUSTRIAL " SYSTEM "... 2O2 
 
 xxv "ON MY OWN" . . . . . .213 
 
 xxvi "BUZZING" ...... 222 
 
 XXVII AT LOW EBB ...... 234 
 
 XXVIII THE DWELLERS BELOW . . . .241 
 
 XXIX THE TOLL OF TURKEY LANE . . . 251 
 
 xxx "THE LARK'S ON THE WING" . . . 261 
 
 XXXI GETTING LODGINGS . . . . .270 
 
 XXXII LEAVING THE NEST 278 
 
 XXXIII HEYDAY ! 283 
 
 XXXIV HOME ........ 292
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 ' OUT OF THE EVERYWHERE INTO A SLUM ' 
 
 I WAS sent to school at the age of three, 
 mainly, I think, to get rid of me, so that the 
 cost of nursing and minding me should be 
 saved, whilst my mother went out to work. 
 Being, I suppose, a precocious child, I learned 
 to read and write at so early an age that I 
 cannot remember ever being without these 
 accomplishments. 
 
 My father and mother were well-meaning 
 people, who let their children (I was the 
 eldest) follow the bent of their own desires, 
 and then punished them severely if they did 
 wrong. I may say, then, that I have always, 
 since I left my mother's arms, had to learn for 
 myself what was right and proper. My father 
 was a thick-set, muscular man, strong and 
 silent, who said but little and meant more than 
 he said. The exception was when he was in
 
 2 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 drink, which, I am sorry to say, occurred very 
 frequently. The Saturday half-holiday was 
 always used by him in travelling from one 
 public-house to another in company with a 
 number of shopmates, who dropped out one 
 by one as successive hostelries were reached. 
 Every Saturday at tea-time my father would 
 come home morose and sullen, would eat his 
 meat-tea eyeing each morsel of food with 
 drunken gravity as he hummed snatches of 
 song during a deceptive gaiety. Very often at 
 tea my mother, who was never very patient, 
 would ply him with fierce questions and taunts, 
 to which my father would reply for a time, 
 feebly attempting to stem the torrent of my 
 mother's stinging words at last taking offence, 
 meeting abuse with abuse until the argument 
 would become a violent quarrel. Cups or 
 saucers were picked up from the table and 
 thrown at each other; then, struggling violently, 
 they would throw themselves to the floor and 
 fight, scratching and punching like wild beasts, 
 until the noise brought the landlady up from 
 down-stairs to separate them and enjoin peace.
 
 INTO A SLUM 3 
 
 During all of this the baby was crying un- 
 heeded on the bed, my brother and I crouched 
 in a corner of the room, too terrified to move, 
 or else huddled on the narrow stairs, anxiously 
 straining our ears to catch the sounds. We 
 had only one room, so we couldn't very well 
 go to bed while they were quarrelling, although 
 we were often awakened in what seemed the 
 dead of night by the fighting of our parents. 
 
 One such recollection comes to me of 
 waking with a start with the noise of strife 
 about me, the table pushed over on its side, 
 and my parents fighting without quarter or 
 mercy. My mother's long hair was loose and 
 tangled with blood, her clothes gaping open 
 with rents, whilst my father's face was terribly 
 scratched and bleeding. 
 
 " Mother ! mother ! " I cried, getting out of 
 bed ; " father ! do stop ; " the next instant the 
 landlord, his wife and two eldest daughters 
 came into the room and separated them, stand- 
 ing the table upright again, and endeavouring 
 to soothe the combatants into ways of peace 
 before going back to bed themselves. 
 
 B 2
 
 4 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 Their efforts seemed to be succeeding when 
 my mother darted away from her counsellors, 
 and seizing a jug standing on a kind of 
 dresser, hurled it into my father's face. 
 
 Again all was confusion; for a moment my 
 father struggled to get free from the land- 
 lord's arms, but finally allowed himself to be 
 taken for a walk in the deserted streets until 
 he felt calmer. The women remained, to send 
 me back to bed with a kindly word, an'd to 
 bring my mother to reason and finally to 
 tears. 
 
 My mother was a woman with a good head- 
 piece, remarkably sharp in repartee, quick at 
 reckoning, and surprisingly able to read one's 
 innermost thoughts of a certain kind. Both 
 my father and herself were illiterate both 
 very able, very independent of each other and 
 the world, and both very much disposed to take 
 their own part. Of affection there was none : 
 I believe both were incapable of it in any very 
 great degree. 
 
 At school I was always the youngest boy in 
 my class, and felt very keenly my comparative
 
 INTO A SLUM 5 
 
 poverty, not because my schoolmates were 
 particularly affluent, but because I was particu- 
 larly poor. My father gave my mother eight- 
 een shillings a week when he first married, and 
 never increased it. When work fell slack my 
 mother suffered the loss of wages; when work 
 was plentiful and overtime the order of the day 
 he would have days off, spending the extra 
 money in drink. 
 
 The consequence was, I never remember the 
 time that the pawnshop was not the usual resort 
 for cash. All sorts and conditions of clothes 
 would be gathered into a parcel and pawned. 
 Sometimes I would be sent to some relative 
 or other to borrow a shilling or two, returning 
 very often without cash, but with a large bundle 
 of clothes, saying, " Aunt Sarah says she can't 
 let you have any money, but you're quite 
 welcome to pawn these clothes until Saturday 
 only make sure you let her have 'em by four 
 o'clock because Jimmy (a grown-up cousin) is 
 very particular about having his clean things 
 to put on o' Saturday nights." 
 
 It will be seen that as fresh mouths
 
 clamoured for food, and bodies for clothing, 
 our financial position grew worse and worse, 
 until at last we were absolutely living from 
 hand to mouth. All the money my father gave 
 up, and whatever my mother received for her 
 own home work, was exhausted as soon as 
 received in redeeming the pledged clothes and 
 paying the rent. I was often sent out to 
 borrow the money to buy our Sunday's dinner, 
 and each meal during the week was a veritable 
 nightmare of worry and anxiety. 
 
 I have said my mother suffered all this; my 
 father never troubled about money matters in 
 the least, and took all the meals we had 
 so anxiously provided without the slightest 
 thought or consideration. Often, indeed, he 
 would try to borrow some cash from the few 
 coppers left my mother weakly yielding after 
 a heartrending recital of our troubles. The 
 effect on me, even at that early age I was 
 about seven was, that I pitied my parents, 
 envied my comrades, and yet, strange to say, 
 glorified myself. I felt a keen delight in 
 being superior. At school I was able to get
 
 INTO A SLUM 7 
 
 near the top of my class, composed as it was 
 of much older boys than myself. In examina- 
 tions or essays I invariably figured either first 
 or second. My unfavourable circumstances 
 were perhaps most favourable, had I known at 
 the time, because I gained the great stimulus 
 of necessity. At this time my companions were 
 boys of about my own age, street arabs all 
 some of whom have become hooligans since, 
 whose greatest delight was to "go and see the 
 trains " at a local station. I remember to this 
 day my mingled feelings of awe and romance 
 as the sinuous folds of the trains wound their 
 way under the bridge I stood upon, and on 
 into the mysterious tunnel at the end of the 
 station. 
 
 Then I would return home (after being 
 chased by some officious porter) to dream of 
 journeys, and to construct primitive trains of 
 cardboard. At this time, too, I found in a dust- 
 bin an old A.B.C., and, having developed a 
 fine imagination, often journeyed with it to far- 
 off towns, mostly by the sea-side, of which I 
 had heard so much and so desired to see,
 
 8 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 Sometimes my comrades and myself would 
 manage to get a halfpenny each, and for- 
 going the temptation of sweets, would take a 
 half-single ticket each to the next station, 
 cheerfully enduring the long walk home for 
 the novelty, the pleasure, and the mystery of 
 the ride.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 EARLY EVENTS 
 
 I WAS always very fond of reading, to which 
 my parents somewhat strongly objected; prob- 
 ably it interfered with " minding the baby" (oh ! 
 those everlasting babies; as soon as one could 
 toddle, another needed nursing); or, perhaps, 
 reading and washing-up the platters were too 
 incompatible. Add to these duties going to 
 school, taking to and fro my mother's work, 
 borrowing money or pawnable articles, help- 
 ing at times the local school-keeper, it will be 
 seen that I had very little opportunity for 
 reading. Yet I read an extraordinary number 
 of books, and quite unaided in my choice 
 many masterpieces. I joined the school 
 library, and the times being so bad, both 
 financially and climatically, I read to my 
 parents some of my books at their request. 
 Thus I quickly learned to read sentences as if 
 
 9
 
 10 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 they were really being spoken, an accomplish- 
 ment which was at once a source of pride and 
 sorrow to me, because I had to read the weekly 
 newspaper to my father as he lay in bed every 
 Sunday morning and read so well that my 
 father always swore that no other growing son 
 of his could be entrusted with the task. 
 
 At last my cravings of travel were realized. 
 A kindly association, connected with the 
 school, sent me with other boys to Reading 
 for three glorious weeks, changing my outlook 
 upon Nature and especially London. I had 
 always looked upon open spaces as necessary 
 stretches of green relief for the over-breathed 
 air, but now I saw that the town was a blot upon 
 the fair surface of a green world. When I 
 returned the air of our street was choking to 
 me I was sorry to have returned. Instead of 
 the neat orderliness of a farm-house, was the 
 untidy litter of a family in one room, in a mean 
 house, in a mean street. 
 
 I tried to point out to my parents the need, 
 and the possibility, of greater cleanliness, for 
 which I was harshly scolded and severely
 
 EARLY EVENTS 11 
 
 punished. I had now sown the seeds of a 
 discord that was destined to last many years. 
 I gradually gained the reputation of apeing 
 my betters, of trying to appear that which I 
 could never be; and so my thoughts were 
 inevitably forced to a higher plane, my desires 
 more and more elevated. I rarely breathed 
 my thoughts to the others, maintaining, as it 
 were, an armed neutrality, whilst they never 
 neglected any opportunity to take a book from 
 me, or insultingly to taunt me for my short- 
 comings. 
 
 A kindly society at this time started the 
 Children's Happy Evenings, which gave me 
 nearly all the sweetness that just then came 
 into my life. I have said I assisted the school- 
 keeper at odd times, and on these evenings I 
 would help him to lift the heavy desks up on 
 to others (although far beyond my strength) 
 and pile them at one side of the hall. I would 
 then rush home, wash myself and join in the 
 "happy evening." Those kind people were, 
 and are, doing more real good than perhaps 
 they ever dreamed of. I would here beg them
 
 12 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 to continue that splendid work, and thank 
 them for the past. 
 
 My mother, who of course was most in- 
 censed by my criticisms, sometimes made me 
 miserable for a yeek ( an a g e to a child) by 
 preventing me from going to the entertainment 
 after I had laboured with the desks and com- 
 pleted my very simple toilette. I had for days 
 looked forward to going, and upon such occa- 
 sions would expostulate, and attempt to argue 
 for my rights. A loaf or anything handy 
 would be thrown at me, whereupon I would 
 escape to the street to wander about for hours 
 disconsolate and cold, and at last creep up the 
 stairs and submit to the thrashing that was my 
 due. One night that I had offended in this 
 way my mother threw a fork at me, which, 
 narrowly missing my cheek, buried its prongs 
 in the door. My mother was in a furious rage, 
 I was comparatively calm. So I drew the fork 
 from its bed, advanced cautiously to the table, 
 and had just laid it in its place when my 
 mother flung a perfect fusillade of cups and 
 bread at me whereat I fled.
 
 EARLY EVENTS 13 
 
 My soul rose within me. I determined to 
 be an outcast, and so, fully resolved to leave 
 them for ever, I turned my back on the street 
 and walked about the City for hours. Hunger 
 soon claimed my chief attention, and being by 
 this time quite desperate I stole some red 
 currants from a fruiterer's stall, and ate them 
 with gusto. 
 
 Hardly knowing what I did I found myself 
 again near my home. A voice was roughly 
 ordering me to " Come here ! " which I identi- 
 fied as my father's, and I promptly turned and 
 ran. My father's voice bade all and sundry to 
 " Stop thief ! " so I was caught struggling in 
 the arms of a lanky youth, who thought he was 
 doing me a good turn, as he probably was. 
 
 With the air of a conqueror my father 
 dragged me home. The street door was closed, 
 I was knocked down in the passage and kicked 
 and punched, until almost senseless I was 
 allowed to creep up-stairs to bed, whilst my 
 mother bewailed her lot in having such a 
 villainous son.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 THE ' STREET ARAB ' 
 
 I WOKE next day with a fierce resentment in 
 my breast. Because I had dared to assert my 
 right to a little happiness, I had been battered 
 and beaten until every part of me was bruised 
 and aching. Even the slaves I was then 
 reading about in Uncle Tom's Cabin were, I 
 thought, more humanely treated by unrelated, 
 unsympathetic overseers and owners than I by 
 my parents, to whom the ties of blood alone 
 should have appealed sufficiently to prevent 
 such savage punishment. 
 
 All day I brooded over the situation, and at 
 last came to the conclusion that I would remain 
 at home, and become a savage would run wild 
 become uncivilized and hooligan-like. I had 
 no doubt my parents would appreciate me more 
 
 if I became a tartar, wild and unmanageable; 
 
 14
 
 THE * STREET ARAB' 15 
 
 I would slouch along the streets, heedless of 
 appearance or anything else ; I would turn their 
 own weapons upon them. 
 
 To the desire always seems to come the 
 means; it came to me in the shape of Jimmy 
 Braid, a nervous, polite-to-your-face little 
 rogue, who wore a perfect bundle of rags, 
 and never washed more than the immediate 
 circle of his face. Braid was in my class at 
 school. 
 
 " Didn't 'arf 'ave a lark larst night," he con- 
 fided to me that morning, imparting the in- 
 formation with a most attractive air of mystery, 
 and speaking in a halting sort of way with his 
 hand nervously hovering about his mouth. 
 
 Eager for further details, I began shuffling 
 up to his desk, sometimes being caught by the 
 teacher (Braid had the knack of never being 
 caught), but I was successful enough as a rule 
 to gather highly coloured accounts of the 
 doings and goings-on in his most notorious 
 street. My own playmates soon began to 
 appear insipid before such a desperado, and, 
 in accordance with my desires, I left them and
 
 16 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 began to play games with Braid and his chums 
 in their particularly unsavoury quarter. 
 
 The games varied. Sometimes those of us 
 who possessed caps placed them in a heap in 
 the road, and then, forming a circle by joining 
 hands, would pull this way and that until 
 one of us was forced to kick the heap ; where- 
 upon the defaulter left the circle, which thus 
 diminished until one was proclaimed victor. 
 
 Of course, cards were very much in evidence 
 on Saturday and Sunday, when money was 
 more plentiful little halfpenny packs with 
 which they played Banker. Then races were 
 arranged " round the houses " a definite route 
 generally won by " Chimpy," a half-witted 
 youth of ferocious appearance and temper, 
 whose name was the endearing diminutive of 
 Chimpanzee. One thing which struck me 
 greatly at first was the amount of terror the 
 sight of one policeman caused. As soon as a 
 "rozzer" appeared on the scene, the whole of 
 our gang, or " click " as they preferred to call 
 it, dissolved vanished into all sorts of dark 
 corners and passages. When a little whistle
 
 THE 'STREET ARAB' 17 
 
 was sounded as the signal of safety, we again 
 issued forth to take up a game or a gamble 
 where it had been dropped. 
 
 The language they used was of the most vile 
 description; I could not bring myself to utter 
 it, although their adjectives and metaphors 
 began to soak into my mind so much so that 
 I began to feel my lips frame the words, and 
 my mind thinking in their terms. 
 
 Braid was very Contemptuous of my word 
 purity. " You'll never be a man or the captain 
 of a click unless you don't blinking well swear," 
 he would say. 
 
 One night, as we were playing a kind of 
 " Touch," Braid shouted out that he had great 
 news to impart. The game ceased immediately, 
 we formed a ring about Braid, and waited for 
 him to commence. 
 
 " See that 'ere little finger ? " he said, holding 
 the digit up for our inspection. We looked as 
 we were bidden. "Notice anything?" he 
 queried. 
 
 " Yes." Chimpy alone replied in the 
 affirmative.
 
 18 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 " Well, what do yer notice ? " suspiciously 
 inquired Braid. 
 
 "Why, it'ser " 
 
 " Aht wiv it ! " the whole click demanded. 
 
 Chimpy looked round for an avenue of 
 escape, and, seeing one, shouted, "Why, it's 
 dirty, and wants washin', like your bloomin' 
 neck." 
 
 When the excitement of this unexpected 
 answer had subsided, Braid again held up his 
 little finger. " See that nail ? " he said. " Notice 
 'ow it's arf cut ? " 
 
 We duly noticed the cut nail of his finger. 
 
 " Well," he continued, " I went dahn Bishigit 
 [Bishopsgate], and poked that nile into some 
 bloke's pocket, and this is what it drew 
 aht" his other hand was drawn from his 
 pocket as he spoke, holding a silk handkerchief 
 aloft. 
 
 A murmur of applause broke from the 
 assembled boys, who then turned to the second 
 item on Braid's agenda. 
 
 :< This kid 'ere," he said, indicating myself, 
 "comes along of us, but don't swear nor
 
 19 
 
 nothink. What d'yer say, boys : are we 
 going to keep 'im in the click, or chuck 'im 
 out?" 
 
 All eyes turned upon me. 
 
 " What cher got ter say for yerself ? " was the 
 demand. 
 
 For a moment I felt two impulses fighting 
 within me : one, my true self, to cut away from 
 the whole of the sordid associations ; the other, 
 to remain and become really one of them, and 
 show my parents I could be a tartar. 
 
 The baser motive came uppermost at the 
 time. Vile words poured unchecked from my 
 lips, to the evident relish of the boys. 
 
 " Bravo ! " cried Braid. " It's easy enough 
 once you try, ain't it ? " And was so pleased 
 that he freely forgave Chimpy for his indis- 
 cretion, and allowed him to return to the black- 
 sheep fold without punishment. 
 
 At this time street was divided against street. 
 Almost every separate thoroughfare had its 
 "click," which issued challenges for some 
 slight, fancied or otherwise, that had been 
 inflicted by other clicks upon a member. The 
 
 C2
 
 20 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 offending street would be " offered out," and 
 war, red, raging war, would be declared. 
 
 Braid's locality Turkey Lane had a great 
 reputation for street fights, and when the 
 ; ' Turks" were upon the war-path prudent 
 people kept indoors. 
 
 Gradually, under my companion's guardian- 
 ship, I was getting into touch with some of 
 these desperadoes, when a street fight was pro- 
 claimed with the Gammon Street boys. Braid 
 and I were sent out as scouts, while the other 
 boys armed themselves with cumbrous pistols 
 of uncertain age and unreliable firing powers, 
 a quantity of heavily buckled straps, and lumps 
 of road metal. My companion and I had just 
 started on our errand, when he suggested in a 
 melodramatic whisper that we ought to dis- 
 guise ourselves. I agreed. Visions of passing 
 through the enemy's ranks disguised, perhaps, 
 as an old man or woman excited my fancy, and 
 I told him so. He laughed. " Fathead ! " was 
 all he said, and the next moment I saw him 
 taking away a plate from a little girl who was 
 weeping bitterly.
 
 21 
 
 "Why don't you give the girl back her 
 plate ? " I demanded, without being vouchsafed 
 any reply; whilst the girl was appealing 
 between her tears, " Gimme my plate. Boo- 
 hoo ! boo-hoo ! My mother will hit me when 
 I get home ! " 
 
 " That's nothing," said Braid, without look- 
 ing back. " I didn't take her money away, 
 did I? " 
 
 "No," I replied, "but still " At that 
 
 moment I looked back and saw another of 
 our click taking the girl's money away, to the 
 accompaniment of a paroxysm of tears. 
 
 " Now," said Braid, " put that under your 
 arm, and the Gammon boys'll think you're on 
 an errand if they see us." 
 
 This was my disguise an innocent look on 
 my face, and a plate under my arm ! 
 
 Advancing gingerly, we were near to the 
 enemy's street, when we became aware of 
 several dim figures creeping along the sides 
 of the houses we were ambushed ! .With a 
 cry for help, my companion dashed up the 
 street, whilst I merely remained in the middle
 
 22 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 of the road, anxious not to miss any of the 
 sight, and without the slightest desire to fight. 
 Stones pelted around, the arms of the enemy 
 were about me, when Braid and his mob con- 
 temptuously pushed me aside, and the fight 
 began in earnest. 
 
 The street cut across a main thoroughfare, 
 and the rival factions began to bombard each 
 other with showers of kerb-stones across the 
 wide road. Traffic was suspended until, amid 
 the desultory " plop " of a revolver and a false 
 alarm of " Police ! " the Turks were able to 
 cross the road, and with buckled straps com- 
 plete the victory. 
 
 I became suddenly aware that this was no 
 place for me, so I sedately returned home, got 
 my usual evening errands, and went to sleep, 
 at rest with the world. 
 
 In the morning my mother asked me if I had 
 seen anything of a terrible street fight that had 
 taken place the previous night. Of course I 
 hadn't. "What happened?" I inquired; and 
 learned then that three boys had been shot 
 one by the explosion of his own pistol, and not
 
 THE 'STREET ARAB' 23 
 
 expected to live also very many serious 
 casualties through the stones. 
 
 Such desperate encounters were street fights 
 then that I know to-day at least two men who 
 have each lost an eye through these bitter little 
 wars. The sight of so much primitive passion 
 let loose disgusted me the next day, the recol- 
 lection of swearing made me loathe myself and 
 my companions, and this, coupled, I suppose, 
 with the fear of possible punishment for my 
 participation if it became known, influenced me 
 to return to my old playmates, and substitute 
 the comparatively mild pastime of jumping off 
 high walls for street fights.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 SCHOOL' 
 
 A NEW teacher came to our school at that 
 time. A man of mystery; nobody quite knew 
 who he was a man of means; he spent far 
 more on us than he earned, and withal a very 
 fine sportsman. The head master, a strict 
 disciplinarian, chosen particularly for our slum 
 school, introduced the new man, and cautioned 
 us to "Behave ourselves or look out." I 
 " looked out " about half-an-hour afterwards at 
 the new teacher's request, and after a painful 
 interview with the head master, returned to the 
 class smarting both physically and mentally. 
 
 I was particularly angry with the new teacher, 
 and I suppose I must have shown it, because, 
 as soon as class was over, he talked me into a 
 feeling of hero-worship, and invited me home 
 
 to tea. Shabbily clothed as I was, odd boots 
 
 24
 
 SCHOOL 25 
 
 on my feet, and without a cap, I accompanied 
 him to Toynbee Hall. After a steaming wash 
 in what seemed to me the acme of lavatories, 
 I entered the large common room and had tea 
 with my teacher, pouring out quaint fancies 
 and opinions in return. 
 
 " Fine book that, isn't it ? " he would say as 
 I turned the pages of an illustrated paper. 
 
 " Well," I would reply, " I think there's too 
 many advertTse'ments in it; you don't get your 
 value." 
 
 " You should say advertisements," he would 
 correct me kindly first, and then attend to my 
 arguments. 
 
 I can hardly estimate the value of the influ- 
 ence these visits had over me. I felt that a 
 new ray of light was being shed into my life; 
 instead of head-patting or condescension my 
 teacher treated me as a comrade and equal, for 
 which I was grateful. 
 
 He disappeared from my horizon as mysteri- 
 ously as he had appeared. 
 
 Permeation of the lower classes by settle- 
 ments is a splendid thing the best way, I
 
 26 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 think, of raising the tone of East End life of 
 all the methods I have seen applied. 
 
 I had always been rather chummy with 
 the strict head master I have referred to. 
 " Chummy " doubtless seems to be a strange 
 word in this connection, yet we were most 
 friendly in spite of the fact that I was fre- 
 quently caned and in disgrace. One day he 
 appeared at the glass door and beckoned me. 
 Unwillingly I rose from my seat and joined 
 him, fully expecting the cane instead of 
 which he began like this 
 
 " I suppose you haven't got the slightest idea 
 why I brought you out like this? No, I 
 thought you wouldn't. Well, I thought to 
 myself, George Acorn is the very one." 
 
 "Yes, sir?" I responded. 
 
 " Do you know where I can buy a hat-box ? " 
 
 Such a query startled me for a moment. I 
 turned my memory about, and after pondering 
 a little, told him I thought I did. He insisted 
 upon particulars. I told him the place, the 
 name, and the condition of the box, apologized 
 for not knowing the price, and eventually we
 
 SCHOOL 27 
 
 issued from the school bent on purchasing the 
 hat-box. 
 
 With one hand on my shoulder he told me 
 quaint stories until we reached the shop; only 
 to find the hat-box had been sold ! " Never 
 mind, George," he said, " I can easily get 
 another." 
 
 We returned in silence, with the chill of 
 disappointment in our hearts, and were nearing 
 the school when, thrusting his thumbs in his 
 waistcoat band, he stopped to watch some 
 passing woman. 
 
 " Hem ! " he said (patting my shoulder as he 
 spoke), " dooced fine figure that woman's got, 
 eh, George?" 
 
 " Yes, sir," I agreed, and we returned to our 
 separate vocations, although I was aware that 
 deep in my heart was a fine contempt for 
 womankind.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 'DAVID COPPERFIELD' 
 
 IN the meantime affairs at home were getting 
 blacker and blacker. Work was very scarce 
 indeed. My father was able to get work for 
 only a few hours daily, and the loss of his 
 income, with the rapid piling up of debts, 
 made our existence a veritable nightmare. It 
 affected our younger lives a good deal so far 
 as food was concerned. But by getting up 
 very early in the morning a free breakfast was 
 to be obtained at a local chapel ; dinners were 
 arranged from the school about twice a week, 
 and personally I often had tea with my teacher. 
 But home was more cheerless than ever; the 
 bare boards of our room struck such a chill to 
 body and soul. We had just a handful of fire 
 just enough to be visible, but with about as 
 much heating power as a candle. At the table 
 
 my father sat with his head bowed upon his 
 
 28
 
 * DAVID COPPERFIELD' 29 
 
 hands for hours ; whilst my mother would make 
 match-boxes, straining her eyes to avoid light- 
 ing the impoverished oil-lamp. My single 
 accomplishment, reading aloud, was now very 
 welcome, and I went through many a book with 
 them, weary though the task became. 
 
 I had seen in a shop-window a very old and 
 tattered copy of David Copperfield, on which 
 my eyes would feast. I knew that a treasure 
 lay between the common tawdry covers, and 
 longed to possess it. The sum of fourpence 
 was to me a king's ransom. The possession 
 of such a book seemed only possible on attain- 
 ing that golden age when I should go out to 
 work. However, Fortune, in the shape of a 
 decrepit old woman, favoured me. 
 
 I was in the street " minding the baby " when 
 the old lady who, by the way, was clad in 
 workhouse clothes called me gently, mysteri- 
 ously hinting at my getting the sum of two- 
 pence if I went to a certain address and 
 brought help. Full of the golden prospect I 
 left the child to another brother and hastened 
 to the address she indicated. The people did
 
 30 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 not seem particularly grateful to me for com- 
 ing, but eventually accompanied me to the old 
 woman, who promptly paid me the promised 
 twopence. 
 
 Now, for some little time past I had been 
 making miniature stages out of cardboard that 
 I found in the street; drawing out my scenes 
 and characters with pencil. To these I tacked 
 a very bald play I had written, which was 
 merely a repetition of the gags heard at a 
 neighbouring music-hall to which my father 
 had taken me in a fit of generosity. When I 
 arrived home, with one penny in each pocket 
 to prevent their rattling, I got into trouble, as 
 I had expected, for leaving the baby, but found 
 with a very great deal of relief that nobody 
 knew anything of the remuneration I had 
 received. Perhaps it was very selfish of me 
 to keep it when bread and fire were so sorely 
 needed; I can only say I was very hungry for 
 something outside my dismal life particularly 
 for books. However, having the twopence I 
 sought about for some means of raising more 
 money, and decided to sell my stage. I spoke
 
 'DAVID COPPERFIELD' 31 
 
 to various boys about it, and eventually sold 
 it for three-halfpence. 
 
 Gathering together all my capital I rushed 
 round to the bookseller's shop and clamoured 
 impatiently at the door, and when that proved 
 unavailing, shouted through the key-hole. 
 After what seemed an eternity of suspense a 
 heavy foot sounded upon the stairs, and Mrs. 
 Daley, the very stout wife of the bookseller, 
 drew back unnecessary chains and opened the 
 door. 
 
 :( Well ? " she inquired ; " what do you want 
 to come waking people up from their afternoon 
 nap for, eh?" 
 
 I meekly asked how much the David Copper- 
 field with the daisy on the cover was (the ticket 
 had been taken off during the week). 
 
 " Fourpence," she said. Alas ! I had only 
 threepence-halfpenny. Hardly trusting myself 
 to speak, so keen was my disappointment, I 
 held the money out in the palm of my hand 
 for her inspection. 
 
 " H'm ! " she grunted (I thought she looked 
 just like a pig). " Comin' round kickin' up a
 
 32 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 hullabaloo and wakin' people up, and then 
 hasn't got the money ! " and the good lady 
 proceeded to lecture me upon my iniquities. 
 
 I was just about to turn away like the man 
 of great possessions in Watts's picture, when 
 the rattling of a barrow ceased ; Mr. Daley had 
 returned with his bookstall, and was inquiring 
 what was the matter? 
 
 "David Cop -per ft eld" I sorrowfully said, 
 " that's all I have got," showing him my three- 
 pence halfpenny. 
 
 " Never mind, sonny," he replied, ignoring 
 his wife's clamourings, "you shall have it for 
 that," and taking my money he reached forth 
 his hand and placed the treasure within my 
 itching palms. 
 
 The clock was just striking six, night was 
 fast settling upon London, and gradually the 
 shop windows were illuminated most oppor- 
 tunely for me. Drawing the precious book 
 from beneath my coat, I read the first few 
 chapters with absorbed attention, when one of 
 my brothers sidled up to me and asked me 
 where I had found the book. I immediately
 
 'DAVID COPPERFIELD' 33 
 
 realized my position went into a dark street 
 and tore out the first three leaves, which, of 
 course, I had read. I rushed home with the 
 book, and by the glimmer of that feeble hope- 
 less light read page after page of the wonderful 
 book. My mother's sharp eyes soon noticed 
 something different from my library books, and 
 in curt, forbidding tones inquired how I came 
 by it? 
 
 I told a lie, of course ; invented a story about 
 a man who had given it to me because some 
 pages were out showing the torn leaves as 
 testimony. 
 
 My mother, I believe, was thoroughly worn 
 out by the anxious time she was having. All 
 the thousand-and-one shifts to get meals, 
 which only the poor can know, depended on 
 her generalship ; and so, incensed at my spend- 
 ing money at such a time she had noticed 
 the absence of the stage, and knew it did not 
 go for nothing punished me severely for that 
 crime and for telling lies. 
 
 The book was flung under the bed. How I 
 longed to rescue it ! I lay awake that night,
 
 34 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 and at last felt the moment had arrived. 
 Hastily slipping out of bed, shiveringly across 
 the bare boards I crept to regain my treasure. 
 I could hear the regular breathing of my 
 parents, and cautiously, carefully, oh ! so care- 
 fully, crept under their bed, and gently drew 
 the book towards me. "What's that?" I 
 heard my mother say as I made a loose board 
 creak. My father turned over : " Oh, only 
 the cat. Let her be, she'll catch the mice," 
 and to my great relief they fell asleep again. 
 
 With straining nerves I crept silently back 
 to my bed, and gradually the peaceful, regular 
 breathings around lulled me to sleep with 
 David Copperfield in my arms. I took the 
 book to school with me the next day, fearing 
 to let it out of my sight. During the playtime 
 I sat apart on a flight of steps, reading of his 
 early boyhood until I began to identify him 
 with myself. 
 
 When I got home after school I found my 
 father and mother sitting silently facing each 
 other. They had nothing to talk about except 
 trouble, so they remained silent. I suggested
 
 'DAVID COPPERFIELD 35 
 
 reading something, and so, when the other 
 children had been put to bed, I read from my 
 beloved book. And how we all loved it, and 
 eventually, when we got to " Little Em'ly," 
 how we all cried together at poor old Peg- 
 gotty's distress ! The tears united us, deep 
 in misery as we were ourselves. Dickens was 
 a fairy musician to us, filling our minds with a 
 sweeter strain than the constant cry of hunger, 
 or the howling wind which often, taking advan- 
 tage of the empty grate, penetrated into the 
 room. 
 
 To the already unbearable load of anxiety 
 a new burden was added. A younger brother 
 became ill, and, of course, luxuries such as 
 beef-tea were impossible. Had it not been for 
 our kind landlady, who sent some food from 
 her own scanty store of provisions, we should 
 all probably have come very near to starvation. 
 
 Gradually my brother grew worse. Instead 
 of reading, my father and I could only sit and 
 watch my mother as she nursed the child in 
 her arms, trying to still its fitful cries by 
 strange, sweet, soothing invocations. 
 
 D 2
 
 36 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 My mother had never appeared to be parti- 
 cularly tender, and it was a revelation to me, 
 this unfolding of the great, loving, maternal 
 instinct. She would work like one possessed, 
 her dexterous fingers moulding box after box 
 almost too quickly for the eye to follow and 
 all for a paltry twopence-farthing a gross com- 
 plete ! Of all the foul blots on our civiliza- 
 tion, sweating is surely the blackest. Although 
 her head was bent over her work apparently 
 oblivious of all else, she would start up at the 
 least cry from the ailing child, and rock it to 
 her bosom until she could lay it down, enjoin- 
 ing silence on us all, and then resume her work 
 as if her life depended on it. Saturday that 
 restful day when ordinary cares relax, and most 
 people have a glorious sense of ease came 
 with suffering in its train. All Saturday morn- 
 ing I could see by my mother's terrible anxiety 
 that the child was worse. He was engaging all 
 her attention when my father returned with his 
 very scanty wages, perfectly sober. At my 
 father's bidding I cleaned the room as best I 
 could; then asked for some money to get tea
 
 'DAVID COPPERFIELD' 37 
 
 and oil with. My mother in a whisper told me 
 not to spend any money. " Every farthing," 
 she said, "was bespoke." So we sat round 
 the cheerless grate whilst the twilight such a 
 hopeless twilight cast a pall over our energy 
 and our very thoughts. The lamp, which was 
 now only burning its wick, was lit, and by its 
 gleams we could see my mother standing and 
 soothing the child in her arms. 
 
 " Go to the hospital and see if the doctor 
 will come," she asked my father, who promptly 
 departed. 
 
 The cries of the child had ceased. " He's 
 asleep," my mother said, more to herself than 
 to me, and in my dim childish fashion I 
 let the words echo through and through my 
 brain, " He's asleep. Hush ! he is asleep 
 sh ! " And he was, had we but known, for 
 ever. 
 
 My father had been gone some time and my 
 mother began to express considerable impati- 
 ence for his return. She was still nursing the 
 child, bidding me every now and then to look 
 out for my father.
 
 38 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 Suddenly a look of fear came into her face. 
 She seemed afraid of something; then, bracing 
 herself as if for some frightful task, inclined 
 her ear to the child's mouth. She gave a pierc- 
 ing scream, and whispered brokenly, " My God, 
 he's dead ! " 
 
 I remember as if it were yesterday the feel- 
 ing of utter hopelessness that hemmed us in. 
 My father presently returned, divining that 
 something was wrong from the look on my 
 mother's scared face. "Any better now?" he 
 inquired. 
 
 " Yes, better now ; " my mother spoke 
 mechanically, with set white face, and great 
 unseeing eyes. " He's dead." 
 
 The doctor had refused to come for a couple 
 of hours or so, in spite of my father's urgent 
 representations, and now that he had returned, 
 the child was dead. Unemotional man as he 
 was, his frame shook with anguish, and he 
 burst into heartrending tears. I was far too 
 cold and miserable and hungry to do anything 
 but sit on an old biscuit-box (we had only two 
 or three chairs), staring vacantly into space and
 
 * DAVID COPPERFIELD' 39 
 
 gathering like a photographic film impressions 
 of the sorrow around me. 
 
 Was there ever a more hopeless Saturday 
 night than that? Fireless, without light or 
 food, and with the body of a dead child to 
 remind us of everything? I hope not.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE TRAPPINGS OF WOE 
 
 THE death of my brother really lightened our 
 burdens for a time. Relatives and neighbours, 
 all, to be sure, very poor, vied with each other 
 in doing little things for us; whilst the insur- 
 ance money enabled my mother to buy some 
 black, and for me a new suit of clothes. 
 
 How I dreamed of that suit of clothes ! I 
 had no remembrance of ever having had such 
 a possession before. The death of my brother 
 and the attendant anguish was overtopped by 
 the prospective glories of my raiment a weak- 
 ness to which I find the human race is peculiarly 
 liable. 
 
 Living as we did up-stairs, all our water had 
 to be carried up in a large stone bottle, con- 
 siderable care being needed to guide it round 
 the tortuous stairs. It was a duty that generally 
 
 fell to me, although far beyond my strength 
 
 40
 
 THE TRAPPINGS OF WOE 41 
 
 but that was a mere detail. A day or two after 
 the death, I had to perform the water-carrying 
 task for about three times in succession, my 
 arms feeling as if another load would pull them 
 out of their sockets. I was not allowed to rest, 
 however, and, in spite of misgivings, I was sent 
 down for another bottleful. Foot by foot I got 
 it to the stairs, and called out for my mother 
 to come and take it. 
 
 The result was not satisfactory. " If I didn't 
 carry it up myself, I should get the finest hiding 
 I'd ever had," which was conclusive. So, 
 bravely spitting upon my hands, I proceeded 
 painfully, carefully, to drag up that awful 
 bottle. I was about half-way up when my mind 
 began to wander, and I could think of nothing 
 else but that new suit, and constantly reiterate 
 my mother's injunction, " Come on hurry up. 
 Come on hurry up," as each step was sur- 
 mounted. 
 
 A dizzy sort of feeling ensued, and I slipped, 
 fell with the bottle down the whole flight of 
 stairs into the passage, and lay stunned for the 
 time being amid the wreckage of the bottle and
 
 42 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 the sea of water which flooded the place. I 
 picked myself up painfully, expecting sym- 
 pathy, or at least some inquiries as to whether 
 I was hurt. 
 
 As usual, I got the good hiding I had been 
 promised; at which, feeling acutely the mon- 
 strous injustice of these constant punishments, 
 I struggled and fought in retaliation. It was 
 very foolish of me, and I prefer to draw a veil 
 over what prevailed. 
 
 I expounded my rankling bitterness of mind 
 to the landlady, Mrs. Potter, who very promptly 
 assured me I should get no sympathy from her. 
 
 ' You're an ungrateful little brat," she said. 
 " Your mother is a hard-working woman who 
 sticks at her work from morning to night, earn- 
 ing the food for you to eat; and if your father 
 and mother do 'ave a little jangle now and then 
 well, we're only human, and we all have our 
 ups and downs. And besides, a little scrap-up 
 clears the air sometimes. Me and Mr. Potter 
 has a few words now and then, but, bless yer, 
 we love each other all the better afterwards. 
 So, if you've had a good hiding, well, I dare
 
 THE TRAPPINGS OF WOE 43 
 
 say you deserved it ; and so, mind your p's and 
 q's, and don't go and do it a second time. A 
 few good hidings'll make a man of yer." 
 
 She was a kindly woman by nature, stout and 
 authoritative, with her theories of human con- 
 duct exactly corresponding to her environment. 
 
 Mr. Potter was considered by everybody 
 concerned to be a model husband. Physically, 
 he was as stout as Mrs. Potter, but much taller; 
 mentally, his life swung between the poles of 
 a chat over a glass of beer and a pipe, and a 
 look at the evening newspaper. 
 
 Their offspring consisted of two sons and 
 two daughters ; the whole family's motto appar- 
 ently being to " pay our way as we go ; and if 
 we can't pay, then to stop at home " ; their chief 
 purpose in life, to maintain a local reputation 
 for being thoroughly respectable. 
 
 The house consisted of four rooms : two on 
 the ground floor occupied by the Potters, our 
 own room on the first floor, and above us 
 another family in the other room, of whom I 
 shall have something to write in a later chapter. 
 
 At last the day of the funeral arrived. I was
 
 44 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 dressed betimes, and gradually the mourners 
 assembled. The blind was down, and the black 
 garments within the gloomy room cast a chill 
 over me. Everybody was talking and chatter- 
 ing until about ten minutes before the coffin 
 was taken out, when handkerchiefs with mon- 
 strous black borders were pressed to the eyes, 
 and crying commenced. In single file we 
 entered the carriages through an avenue of 
 vulgar sightseers, and slowly the procession left 
 the street, finally breaking into a trot near the 
 burying-grouncl. 
 
 I knew, in a way, that it was the correct thing 
 to cry, but I couldn't; the novelty of the suit 
 and the carriage ride, the fact that I had two- 
 pence in my pocket, and a white handkerchief 
 with a black border of my own, engaged all my 
 thoughts. Besides, the other people dried their 
 tears with remarkable alacrity as soon as we got 
 clear of the neighbouring streets. 
 
 The burial was as serious as anything could 
 be, yet as soon as the carriages left the grounds 
 for the homeward journey the talk veered round 
 entirely to ordinary common mundane things.
 
 THE TRAPPINGS OF WOE 45 
 
 A stop was made at a public-house half-way 
 home for half-an-hour or so, during which time 
 some of our drivers got best part drunk, and 
 many of the mourners fell to quarrelling. I sat 
 apart from it all in the carriage, shocked beyond 
 measure at such behaviour, refusing even the 
 proffered ginger-beer that my fellow-mourners 
 desired to press on me. It was a cold day, and 
 I was a strict teetotaler. 
 
 After what seemed to be hours of weary 
 jolting we arrived home, and I ventured to 
 express my distaste of the homeward journey. I 
 couldn't help it ; it was so degrading, I thought, 
 to convert a funeral procession into a drinking 
 bout. 
 
 The assembled company scowled at me, and 
 once again I was made to understand that these 
 ideas of mine would eventually lead me into 
 crimes too awful to be indicated. 
 
 It will be seen that I was always alone in 
 everything that was thought or done ; and so I 
 grew to depend entirely upon myself to judge 
 things without any relation to what others would 
 say, and eventually to keep most of my thoughts
 
 46 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 to myself. I felt myself an Ishmael, and 
 gloried in it. I had a curious sense of isola- 
 tion from every one at that time even my 
 playmates seemed to be only appendages, with 
 whom I had nothing but physical relations.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 GAMES AND CREEDS 
 
 THE virus of " doing one another's Dags " 
 took us at that time. One boy would challenge 
 the rest to imitate his doings, and so they 
 would, unless the prospect of a broken neck 
 was too manifest. A boy, for instance, would 
 run between the legs of a horse as it was 
 ambling along, although a slight miscalcula- 
 tion would cause him to be trampled upon and 
 run over. Casualties, indeed, were fairly fre- 
 quent; we nearly always had one playmate in 
 the hospital with something broken. 
 
 Jews gradually spread down the street. As 
 soon as one Jew gets into a street, he lowers 
 its tone and forms the centre of a constantly 
 increasing stream of aliens. Many were the 
 invectives, harsh the insults thrown to Mrs. 
 Cohen, a hideous warty-faced old woman who 
 had pioneered into our street in the interests 
 
 47
 
 48 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 of Jewry. At that time I felt somewhat sym- 
 pathetic to what I conceived to be an unfor- 
 tunate downtrodden race ; but living, as I have 
 (done, so closely to them for over twenty years, 
 I now experience nothing but dislike and 
 repulsion for the average Jew of the mean 
 street. 
 
 Despite my sympathy, I was not above 
 taking a hand in persecuting them ; so when we 
 found the carcase of a dead fowl our thoughts 
 turned naturally to the Cohens. 
 
 We began by banging at their knocker, and 
 constantly caused the good lady to open the 
 door, muttering her strange " Instamachinas," 
 or whatever she said. When we were sure 
 they were nearly frantic with rage, we fastened 
 the dead fowl upon a nail in the door-framing 
 (used for the milk-cans, I suppose) and 
 knocked louder than ever. The door flew open 
 with a crash. Mr. Cohen, with a broom in his 
 hand, hurled himself out of the doorway, and 
 got a smack from the dead fowl, which knocked 
 him into the arms of Mrs. Cohen. We stood 
 in all sorts of positions suitable for running
 
 GAMES AND CREEDS 49 
 
 away, but there was no need, for the fowl was 
 cut down and taken indoors, to the accompani- 
 ment of great cheers when we saw how success- 
 ful our trick had been. To the credit of our 
 parents it must be said here that most of us 
 were punished for this outrage. 
 
 It seemed as if the pent-up life of a slum 
 street can only find its outlet in mischievous 
 deeds, and indeed, although we in our street 
 were very mild by comparison with others, we 
 were sufficient to cause a reign of terror. Our 
 mildest trick was " knocking down Ginger," in 
 other words running through street after street 
 banging the knockers of the houses. 
 
 Despite all these things, essential, no doubt, 
 to our young blood, I managed to get through 
 a great deal of reading ; and, strange as it may 
 seem at my age, I had some appreciation of 
 style, tackling all sorts and conditions of books, 
 from " Penny Bloods " to George Eliot. I 
 particularly remember Treasure Island, which 
 I thought was the usual penny blood sort of 
 story, with the halo of greatness about it. 
 Rising nine in age, I was presumptuous enough
 
 50 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 % 
 to consider that the author had the makings of 
 
 a great writer within him ! I have since learned 
 that he died in that very year. George Eliot 
 in those days I read solely for the story. I 
 used to skip the parts that moralized, or painted 
 verbal scenery, a practice at which I became 
 very dexterous. Such mental gymnastics were 
 forced upon me by the flood of goody-goody 
 literature which was poured in upon us. 
 Kindly institutions sought to lead us into the 
 right path by giving us endless tracts, or books 
 in which the comparative pill of religious 
 teaching was clumsily coated by a mild story. 
 It was necessary in self-defence to pick out the 
 interesting parts, which to me at that time were 
 certainly not those that led to the hero's con- 
 version, or the heroine's first prayer. 
 
 Our attitude towards religion was that 
 somewhere in the skies was a God, the Father 
 of the human race, and the Maker of the world. 
 To certain favoured individuals He was kind, 
 and provided good food and raiment in return 
 for a regular attendance at church. The 
 people in our street, especially our own family,
 
 GAMES AND CREEDS 51 
 
 had been overlooked by God, and it was foolish 
 to expect deliverance from our troubles by any 
 other source than our own abilities. Thus we 
 felt sure that there was a God, but that He was 
 no friend of ours, that it was of no use to 
 depend on Him for anything, and that it 
 behoved us to sharpen our wits and fight the 
 world for what we could get. 
 
 I shared these beliefs in common with my 
 father and mother, who sometimes made them 
 the subjects of a casual conversation. And yet 
 I had a distinct leaning towards religion. 
 Places of worship were so clean, that I often 
 felt the desire to go into a local church. The 
 brooding feeling of peacefulness seemed to 
 smooth one's turbulent desires. Eventually, in 
 company with various other " street arabs," I 
 walked boldly up the aisle, and took a seat in 
 the front pew, heedless of the curious glances 
 of the well-dressed people, who audibly tittered 
 at our impudence. 
 
 I liked it very much, but my companions 
 were very restive, and when they began to 
 criticize the choir-boys, standing up in the pew 
 
 2
 
 52 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 and pointing out to whom they were referring, 
 the verger thought it was time to interfere, 
 so we were ignominiously bundled out. We 
 solaced ourselves by " knocking down Ginger " 
 for the rest of the evening.
 
 STAGE-STRUCK 
 
 IN the meantime I had continued to help the 
 school-keeper at odd moments, and as a reward 
 he asked me to go into his house and have 
 something. 
 
 I went, of course; had some lemonade and 
 cake a rare treat, I considered and thought 
 the world wasn't such a bad place, after all. 
 
 " Now look here, George," he said. " D'you 
 see that notice outside my door?" 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Tilly." 
 
 " Well, George, I've got a ticket for that, and 
 if you'd like to go I'll give it to you. Would 
 you go if I let you have it ? " 
 
 "Well," I inquired, "whereabouts is Queen's 
 Hall?" 
 
 " Why, Langham Place, Oxford Circus," he 
 said; and as I was doubting in my mind if I 
 could ever find it, he continued, " It's a two- 
 
 53
 
 54 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 shilling seat, and it's a fine concert; only I can't 
 go myself, so I thought you'd like to." 
 
 Imagine what it meant a small, ragged boy 
 not yet nine years of age going to walk half- 
 way across London to claim a two-shilling seat 
 at a swell concert. I closed with his offer, and, 
 leaving home about twelve the following Satur- 
 day, followed closely the route I had picked 
 out from a school map of London. 
 
 At length, without a farthing in my pocket 
 or a cap on my head, I paused at the corner of 
 Gray's Inn Road. 
 
 " What cher, George ! " a voice said. I turned 
 round; it was Mr. Tilly, the school-keeper. 
 " Get up on that 'bus," he said, following me 
 in my upward flight. 
 
 Once on top, he told me of the delights of 
 the concert I was going to, paid my fare, and 
 gave me threepence to return with. I shrewdly 
 suspect that he had been waiting at that corner 
 to assist me, and that he returned home as soon 
 as I got off at Oxford Circus, although he said 
 he was going to visit some friends. Then, I 
 thought it was a most wonderful coincidence,
 
 STAGE-STRUCK 55 
 
 and thanked my lucky stars. Now, I am in- 
 clined to thank God there is so much goodness 
 about. With a last look at the kindly school- 
 keeper, I began to explore Langham Place, 
 and finally paused outside Queen's Hall, to 
 wonder if such fine fellows as the doorkeepers 
 would allow such a ragged little urchin as 
 myself to enter. However, I presented my 
 two-shilling ticket to them, and, to my great 
 joy, my progress was not checked expansive 
 smiles on their faces showing that something 
 tickled them immensely. 
 
 I walked in with a crowd of fashionably 
 dressed ladies, and took a seat where I should 
 be alone. It was not a very crowded house, 
 but as it gradually filled I felt my personal 
 discomfort increasing. I watched a family 
 party enter and pull down their seats in the 
 same row an example I quickly followed, for 
 I had been sitting upon the arm, and knew 
 nothing of the secrets of tip-up chairs. No 
 wonder I had felt uncomfortable ! 
 
 The concert was really great, the music 
 mainly vocal in character; and by connecting it
 
 56 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 in some way with the Church music I had heard, 
 I came to the conclusion that Heaven must be 
 a sort of gigantic Queen's Hall where every- 
 body knew the secret of the seats. 
 
 In the interval I strolled about with my 
 hands in my pockets, looking, I thought, like 
 the son of an earl, flattering myself that I was 
 successfully deceiving people. 
 
 The great reminder, Hunger > soon ba'de me 
 return home ; so sorrowfully I left such beauti- 
 ful sounds, such a clean place, an'd walkeH all 
 the way home, spending the money Mr. Tilly 
 had given me in refreshment on the way. 
 
 I often used to think about the essential 
 loneliness of everybody. I was conscious of 
 being I, and aware, of course, that everybody 
 else was an " I " too; yet it seemed that I was 
 the most important person on earth that the 
 world revolved, although it seemed painfully 
 unaware of the fact, about me. 
 
 It may be doubted, but it is absolutely true, 
 that at that time I used to wonder why my 
 particular / should be born into my particular 
 body, and whether there were any extraordinary
 
 STAGE-STRUCK 57 
 
 effects to follow in my subsequent life because 
 of that particular union. 
 
 I had a very strong feeling that I was born 
 to be very great indeed a feeling, I suppose, 
 most of us possess in our youth : a desirable 
 feeling, I think, because if we are ever able to 
 do anything at all deserving the name of great- 
 ness, it is fostered by a belief in one's mission 
 and capability for it. 
 
 My taste for miniature stages now received 
 a decided fillip. A school chum told me he 
 had one made of wood, with footlights in front. 
 Of course, I went home with him and admired 
 it, and won'dered how I could become possessed 
 of one also. Mr. Tilly solved the financial 
 part of the problem by giving me a permanent 
 twopence a week in return for about three 
 hours' work; and as my father's work became 
 better, I received the customary halfpenny 
 every Saturday from him. Here was wealth 
 indeed ! I promptly sought out my school 
 chum, and arranged easy terms, with an initial 
 deposit of threepence. After waiting a week 
 or so I received a gorgeous stage with four
 
 58 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 smoky footlights (penny apiece) : total cost, a 
 shilling. I also bought a penny sheet of scenes 
 and characters, which I coloured with crayons, 
 mounted on cardboard, and laboriously cut out. 
 
 I smuggled the stage indoors, and hid it 
 under the bed; but my mother made me drag 
 it out, and with stern face demanded full par- 
 ticulars. " How much have you given for 
 that ? " she demanded icily. 
 
 "A shilling tuppence a week," I meekly 
 apologized. 
 
 " Oh ! So you're going to pay six weeks for 
 
 that d d thing, are you? " Then her voice 
 
 lowered to a positive hiss. " Look here, my 
 boy, I'll teach you not to spend your money on 
 trash. Take that. . . ." 
 
 I gladly escaped with a clump on the ear, 
 and a dull, cold feeling at my heart. Never 
 understood, never right only and always an 
 Ishmael. 
 
 I secured from the family down-stairs a 
 worn-out musical-box which originally cost 
 about twopence, and played four notes in con-
 
 STAGE-STRUCK 59 
 
 tinual succession by turning a knobless handle. 
 This was my orchestra, and at last I decided, 
 when the opportunity should become favour- 
 able, to give a performance. I waited long and 
 patiently; and rejoiced exceedingly when I 
 learned that both my parents and the people 
 down-stairs would be out the following Monday 
 evening. I drew out a poster announcing 
 
 The FIRST Performance 
 
 of 
 THE MILLER AND HIS MEN 
 
 at the Metropole Theatre, 
 
 Morocco Street, E. 
 Entrance fee a farthing. 
 
 This I circulated among the small boys of the 
 district. 
 
 The great evening arrived at last. Anxiously 
 I helped my mother to clear away the tea- 
 things, eager only to get my parents well out 
 of the house, and my audience into the yard. 
 Threepence-farthing, representing fourteen 
 small boys (one wouldn't come in unless his
 
 60 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 younger brother was admitted free), was soon 
 jingling in my pocket. I got them well through 
 the house, then left them for a few minutes 
 whilst I went out to buy a pennyworth of 
 sweets. 
 
 When I returned the boys were playing 
 ' Touch,'*' shouting like penny-'dreadful Indians 
 on the war-path. Our landlord (the direct 
 tenant) had been trying for years to induce a 
 strip of earth about a yard square to grow 
 radishes from successive, but unsuccessful, 
 penny packets of seed; and upon this truly 
 sacred spot the van'dals were jumping. I could 
 have shrieked at the sacrilege, but composed 
 my inward feelings, and eventually gathered 
 my audience round the stage, which rested on 
 an old box. I announced the Overture, and 
 patiently turned the knobless handle, until 
 somebo'dy said he was going to sleep : " Would 
 some one wake him up when it was all over? " 
 and another complained of stomach-ache. I 
 released the musical-box, and used the dis- 
 engaged hand to stuff some sweets into my 
 mouth. " The Miller and His Men ! " I cried
 
 STAGE-STRUCK 61 
 
 in the grand manner. With a little difficulty 
 the blind was rolled up, the play commenced 
 and my troubles. 
 
 During rehearsals the characters had worked 
 smoothly enough, the side wings and scenes 
 were easy to manipulate, but now nothing 
 would go right; the play looked like being a 
 fiasco. The small boys at the back of my 
 audience began to throw small stones at my 
 characters, and the wind made a sudden effort 
 and blew out my footlights. I went into the 
 house to get a match, and returned to find every 
 boy with a portion of the scenery in his hand. 
 Everything was hopelessly muddled up after 
 that, and I decided to give a grand spectacular 
 effect in lieu of the complete play. Eventually 
 the explosion scene was staged a mill, with 
 lurid streaks of red, white, and green radiating 
 from the upper part, and in the sky two or 
 three bodies in various positions, representing 
 the fate of some of the villains. 
 
 I was explaining this grand finale, when the 
 stage was knocked over in one direction, I in 
 another. My mother's irate voice caused the
 
 62 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 audience to stampede through the passage, and 
 I was left to explain matters. As a beginning, 
 my mother smashed the stage, burned the pro- 
 perties, gave me a thrashing, and sent me out 
 to pay back all the farthings. I did so as far 
 as possible, but I had spent a penny, so four 
 boys had to go without. So keen, however, was 
 their feeling of injustice that we fell to quarrel- 
 ling, and finally I had a fight with one. I felt 
 that a theatrical manager's life was not all 
 honey I had had a thrashing from my mother, 
 a fight with a comrade, my stage was in pieces ; 
 and I had ninepence yet to pay.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 THE COMMON ROUND 
 
 I FELT the loss of my stage very acutely. A 
 definite, abiding feeling of resentment grew 
 within me. I lost no opportunity of reminding 
 my mother of how she thwarted every innocent 
 desire of mine for amusement and culture. 
 " If," I would say, " I am as wicked and 
 gallows-bred as you say, whose fault is it ? Do 
 you expect a dutiful, obedient son, when you 
 have never taught him to respect you, or have 
 cause for affection?" A loaf of bread or a 
 knife would be thrown at me, I would escape 
 to the street, sometimes wearing only my shirt 
 and trousers, and would remain out until night- 
 fall, when I could safely venture up-stairs and 
 creep into bed. 
 
 My comrades would generally share their 
 meals with me such meals as they were. 
 Sometimes a meal consisted of a halfpenny- 
 
 63
 
 64 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 worth of fried potatoes, "chips," in an old 
 newspaper. When the family cash was too 
 meagre to allow a halfpenny all round, four 
 halfpenny cold " faggots " would be procured 
 from the local pork-butcher, sliced into halves, 
 and dished up to the young olive branches 
 thus one half-faggot on one slice of bread 
 constituting one meal. 
 
 A faggot is a thing of mystery, compared to 
 which a sausage is transparently honest : it is 
 a square solid slab of a darkish green-brown 
 colour, a three-inch cube of minced pork- 
 butchers' odds and ends, baked by the score 
 in a large tin. 
 
 I suppose it is the pitch at which these poor 
 people live that makes them so ready to throw 
 things about; anyway, it is a widely spread 
 instinct among them to fling the first thing the 
 hand can seize. The father and mother of a 
 girl I know of were both unemployed, and 
 entirely dependent upon their daughter's wages 
 for sustenance. They drank to excess, and 
 were fighting one evening when she returned 
 from work. The father had his face badly
 
 THE COMMON ROUND 65 
 
 scratched. In retaliation he pulled a red-hot 
 poker from the fire and hurled it at his wife. 
 The girl put out her hand, and stopped it. 
 She could do no work for months because it 
 burned a hole through her hand, and crippled 
 it for life. Nobody was told that it was any- 
 thing but a "rather unusual accident." 
 
 Many a slum-child's scars are inflicted by its 
 parents, scars of the soul as well as the body. 
 These people lead mechanical lives. It is 
 appalling that so many of our neighbours 
 should go through life without even an 
 elementary knowledge of decent conduct, 
 should live, marry, produce children, fight, 
 quarrel, all by rote, and never think. 
 
 A certain conventional set of words consti- 
 tutes an insult. They feel little, or no, affront, 
 but take up and carry on a quarrel by means 
 of a conventional harangue which increases in 
 anger and ends with fight. The mind is not 
 used at all ; it is simply animal against animal, 
 via conventional routes. 
 
 I was again sent into the country, saw the 
 sea for the first time, and was disappointed.
 
 66 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 But country life was grand. I was very sorry 
 to return, but London was my home, the slums 
 my native environment. So I just carried the 
 love of country in my heart back to town; a 
 love which only increases with years. 
 
 I was gradually induced by my comrades to 
 join a neighbouring ragged school, and was 
 very fortunate in being placed in Mr. Godfrey 
 Warden's class. Every Sunday evening we 
 stood in queue waiting for the doors to open, 
 whilst the bigger bullying boys would button- 
 hole us all by turns and demand sweets or 
 money, or buttons (with which to play), cutting 
 the latter from our trousers if we had nothing 
 else to give. There was a boy named Williams 
 who was my particular enemy. Although only 
 about my own size, he was able to exercise a 
 remarkable influence over me. At his approach 
 I felt benumbed ; often his actions would work 
 me into a fearful rage, yet I felt powerless to 
 strike him. If he saw me on an errand he 
 would chase me, knowing his power, and laugh- 
 ingly run away when he had cornered me. 
 
 Mr. Warden was a common-sense philan-
 
 THE COMMON ROUND 67 
 
 thropist, and the fact that nearly all his boys 
 are now respectable members of the com- 
 munity is testimony to his splendid character 
 and wise teaching. I have a photograph of a 
 small group, with Mr. Warden in the centre, 
 taken just outside London a small group of 
 ragged urchins, smartened up as much as pos- 
 sible for the occasion, all guests of our teacher 
 at his home, where the servants and the silver 
 teapot combined to take our breaths away. 
 
 Mr. Godfrey Warden remained our friend 
 for some years after we had drifted out of his 
 class. Several reunions were effected, at which 
 times he would take us to some West End 
 entertainment ragged boys no longer, but 
 straightforward, clean-living young men. 
 
 The day school I attended was very limited 
 in its syllabus, so, having run through all the 
 classes, and being too young to leave at 
 the age of ten, I was drafted off to another 
 school of wider scope. I was treated with 
 remarkable consideration due, I suppose, to 
 my late schoolmaster's commendations and 
 was given every opportunity to shine. I 
 
 F2
 
 68 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 managed to win the prize for an essay against 
 the school, but, generally speaking, failed to 
 become more than an average scholar in such 
 studies as grammar or mathematics; probably 
 because the other school had never given me 
 the proper rudiments. For instance, I was 
 told to parse a long sentence without ever 
 having had a single lesson in grammar; or to 
 work out an algebraic puzzle, although quite 
 innocent of algebraic guile. Our teacher was 
 a fine fellow, who took us in the dinner hour to 
 a neighbouring lecture-hall for working men, 
 where many a wise and great man assisted our 
 young ideas to shoot. Sir Walter Besant on 
 the " Tower of London " I remember, and Miss 
 Honnor Morten on " Hygiene in the Home." 
 I could not help feeling rather cynically 
 amused when that good lady advised us to 
 let the sunshine into our homes whether the 
 carpets suffered or not. Carpets ! 
 
 In my home, matters were still under a cloud, 
 only rather more so, for by this time there were 
 six of us children, with father and mother, all 
 living in the one room or, rather, existing.
 
 THE COMMON ROUND 69 
 
 Financially, we were in a very bad state indeed ; 
 we had an increasing deficit every week, 
 because there was an increasing demand for 
 additional food and clothing. 
 
 My mother solved the problem for a time by 
 borrowing a couple of pounds from a neigh- 
 bouring money-lending shark. A large, coarse, 
 soulless being with a strident voice, to whom 
 she agreed to pay, I think, three shillings a 
 week interest until the whole sum was refunded 
 by additional payments. I should think my 
 mother paid at least ten pounds interest on that 
 loan yet never repaid the capital. But as that 
 belongs rightly to a later chapter I propose to 
 reserve details. The worst of the financial stress 
 was that our tender years could not ignore such 
 things. Instead of possessing the light heart 
 of boyhood, I was prematurely old and care- 
 worn. I am considerably younger now than I 
 was then. 
 
 It is a merciful dispensation that veils the 
 future, for, had we but known, we were in 
 Paradise to what was to follow.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 DEPTHS 
 
 IT was, and still is, the custom for the men 
 and boys of the poorer classes in the East End 
 of London to congregate " down the Lane " or 
 "down the Row." There are several Sunday 
 morning market bazaars, the greatest probably 
 being those of Petticoat Lane and Club Row. 
 Every Sunday morning the pavements are 
 thronged with jostling crowds of the male 
 population, journeying towards one of these 
 common centres. Not, it would seem, so much 
 for what they intend to buy as to gratify the 
 universal desire to rub shoulders now and then 
 with masses of one's fellow-men. 
 
 They come to Club Row with linnets in cages 
 darkened by being tied up in neckerchiefs, or 
 with young puppies in their hands, or pigeons 
 
 in bags, for sale, admiration, or exchange. 
 
 70
 
 DEPTHS 71 
 
 The boys have their tame mice or their 
 rabbits. The Jew comes to buy a fowl for 
 dinner, provided it is cheap, poking and pull- 
 ing the bird about until every atom of flesh has 
 been calculated, and no feather left unturned. 
 
 Other men deal in bicycles, gramophones, 
 old iron, quack medicines and occasionally 
 the three-card trick. 
 
 Petticoat Lane is almost entirely Jewish, so 
 far as the stall-keepers go ; mainly of that new 
 type of Jew the blustering, pugilistic, un- 
 scrupulous, athletic type, which seems to be 
 overcoming the old deferential, cringing his- 
 torical type; and owning allegiance neither to 
 morality, Judaism, Christianity, nor to any 
 nation. 
 
 I desire not to be mistaken. That there are 
 good and bad in every nation in about equal 
 proportions I firmly believe. I only regret that 
 my own life has brought me into close contact 
 with more of the repellent, new type of Jew I 
 have indicated than with any other. 
 
 Petticoat Lane is devoted to clothing, tools, 
 jewellery, the purse trick, and Jewish delicacies.
 
 72 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 There are hundreds of side lines, but these are 
 the main features. 
 
 The purse trick is an amazing performance 
 in sleight of hand. You see a man drop three 
 half-crowns into a leather purse as plainly as 
 you ever saw anything done in your life. He 
 sells you the purse and contents for a shilling; 
 you open the purse (at a distance), and find 
 three halfpennies at the bottom, instead of three 
 half-crowns; you wonder how it's done, con- 
 sider that you have bought a shillingsworth of 
 experience, and then throw the purse away. 
 
 In common with other men, my father made 
 a pilgrimage every Sunday morning to both 
 Petticoat Lane and Club Row; not as a cus- 
 tomer, but rather in the character of a philo- 
 sophic looker-on. It was part, and an important 
 part, of his life's ritual one of his greatest 
 relaxations. 
 
 I was helping my mother to clear the room 
 before dinner one Sunday afternoon (the East 
 End Sunday dinner is partaken of at 3.15 p.m., 
 after the public-houses close), when a peculiar 
 hubbub was heard at the street door. We could
 
 DEPTHS 73 
 
 generally analyse sounds distinguish a fight 
 from a row, a neighbourly interchange of chaff 
 from a discussion of "what was up." My 
 mother and I listened intently for a moment. 
 " Go down and see what's the matter," she said. 
 I was saved the trouble, for the next moment 
 a neighbour's girl ran into the room with the 
 news that she had seen my father riding in a 
 cab with a handkerchief over his arm, in com- 
 pany with a gentleman wearing a "top-hat." 
 My mother made great efforts to disbelieve what 
 the girl said ; but she was so persistent, and the 
 news was so detailed, that we became convinced 
 that something untoward had occurred. 
 
 To ride in a hansom cab was to us like riding 
 in the State Coach. Only one family in the 
 street was known to have ridden in one, and 
 that was because their uncle was a cabby, who 
 occasionally paid them a visit and took them 
 round the houses as a rare treat, and perhaps 
 in order to advance their social standing. 
 Consequently, to hear of my father in such 
 exalted state seemed to me to indicate a rise 
 in the family fortunes; but my mother placed
 
 more importance upon the handkerchief over 
 his arm as foreboding some grave news. 
 
 We proceeded no farther with the meal, but 
 sat down in the still untidy room, obsessed by 
 a feeling of helpless anticipation mingled with 
 fear. More definite news arriving later con- 
 firmed the girl's statement and our worst fears. 
 My father had been run over by a bicycle 
 " down the Lane," and had sustained a com- 
 pound fracture of the arm. He had been taken 
 to a doctor, who in turn took him to the hospital 
 in a cab. 
 
 It was a mercy, in some ways, that six little 
 mouths clamoured for food at this juncture, for 
 it roused my mother to action, and prevented 
 her from sitting down and realizing the awful 
 nature of this unkind blow of Fate. For 
 myself, I felt no particular emotion only a 
 great responsibility as the eldest son. I 
 resolved to acquit myself worthily. 
 
 My father returned home pending the 
 vacancy of a bed in the hospital with an awe- 
 inspiring mass of bandages, and a frightfully 
 thin and white face. He told my mother in
 
 DEPTHS 75 
 
 quite calm, cool tones that he expected to be 
 in hospital for three weeks or a month. " Hard 
 lines, old gal," was his comment; "but keep 
 things going on until I come out." 
 
 My mother dried her tears. A fierce, almost 
 tigerish look came over her face, and she 
 replied, " I'll be father and mother to J em ; 
 don't let that worry you." 
 
 He went into the hospital next day, and came 
 out nine months later. What a terrible nine 
 months that was ! At midnight, when Nature 
 forced my wearied frame to sleep, my eyes' last 
 gaze was at my mother working making 
 matchboxes. I awoke early in the morning to 
 find my mother working making matchboxes. 
 It took her some hours to earn twopence- 
 farthing the remuneration for a gross com- 
 plete. 
 
 About the room hung a damp, pasty-smelling 
 atmosphere a most depressing environment, 
 which lowered vitality and increased morbid- 
 ness. I have no doubt my mother was often 
 ill over it, but she never complained simply 
 slaved away from early morning to late night,
 
 76 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 working, working, working and all for a few 
 beggarly twopence-farthings. Of course, the 
 remuneration was totally inadequate to keep 
 the place going, so my mother applied for out- 
 door relief from the Board of Guardians. After 
 a lot of bullying we were doled out two loaves 
 of bread a day; for which we were duly thank- 
 ful, as it enabled us to indulge in small luxuries, 
 such as an occasional halfpenny kipper or had- 
 dock and a touch of butter between the family. 
 The way my mother divided the loaves and 
 fishes has left me a devout believer in the 
 miracle by the Galilean Sea.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 STILL DEEPER 
 
 I REMEMBER one raw, bitter night going with 
 my mother to a police-court missionary's house. 
 She had applied for help, which was to take 
 the form of blankets. God knows we needed 
 them ! My mother had the two younger 
 children in her bed, whilst I slept with the 
 three others : two of us at the top, two at the 
 bottom. Yet for all our huddling together we 
 lay numbed and shivering. 
 
 The missionary's house lay in a somewhat 
 pretentious " residential " district some miles 
 distant. After a wearisome journey we found 
 the address, but the missionary was out. His 
 daughter was " courting " at the garden gate, 
 and after superciliously taking stock of our 
 appearance and errand, advised us to take a 
 walk and return in about an hour. We limped 
 away, braving a keen piercing wind, until in 
 
 77
 
 78 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 a dark shadow we found a humble doorstep 
 upon which we crouched till we guessed the 
 hour was up. 
 
 The dispenser of blankets was at home. A 
 parcel was given to us in a very business-like 
 manner, we were shown the gate, and began 
 that weary walk homeward now buoyed up by 
 the knowledge that however cold and numbed 
 our bodies might be at that moment, at night 
 we should be warm. 
 
 On arriving home the children were crying 
 dismally, in a room without fire or light. The 
 supply of both oil and coal had become ex- 
 hausted as the result of our long absence from 
 home. At half-past ten I was sent out to 
 borrow a shilling from a relative, taking with 
 me an oil-can, and a bag for the coal. 
 
 I reached my aunt's place it was in utter 
 darkness. I banged at the door and was 
 mocked by the echo. I was about to turn away 
 when the top window of the house was opened, 
 a head was thrust out, and demanded 
 
 "What d'yer want?" 
 
 " Want Aunt Sarah," I replied.
 
 STILL DEEPER 79 
 
 " Well, what d'ye want her for? " 
 
 " Want to see her." 
 
 " What d'ye want to see her for ? " 
 
 " To ask her something." 
 
 "Well, come and ask her to-morrow," with 
 which the window was closed with a bang. I 
 banged and banged again at the knocker, and 
 at last heard the sound of feet descending the 
 stairs. Through the key-hole of the door I 
 could see my aunt in night attire, half asleep, 
 and obviously irritated. The bolts were drawn, 
 the door opened about two inches, just enough 
 for my aunt to get a good view of her tormentor. 
 
 " Well, what is it ? " she inquired sharply. 
 
 " Please, Aunt Sarah," I said, " mother said 
 will you be so kind as to oblige her with a 
 shilling? We ain't got no coals or oil." 
 
 With a grunting disapproval of " some 
 people's impidence" she shuffled up-stairs 
 again and down, to fetch sixpence. 
 
 "'Ere you are," she said, "tell your mother 
 that's all I've got." 
 
 I rushed off to secure seven pounds of coal 
 (one penny) and a pint of paraffin oil (three
 
 80 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 farthings) before the shops closed. I was just 
 in time and rushed home with my captures. A 
 fire and a light were soon kindled, by which 
 the blankets were inspected. Fine blankets 
 they were too, large and thick, but stamped in 
 
 bold black letters were the words : " J 
 
 Street Police Court Blanket Fund." 
 
 Our experiences were all very much of this 
 kind during the whole of the nine months; 
 very often waking up in the morning without 
 food, firing, or money, and conscious that every 
 available source of relief was closed, except, 
 of course, the bread from the Guardians. 
 
 Hand-in-hand with the spectre of poverty 
 was the grim shadow of the Local Sanitary In- 
 spector, who was expected every minute to send 
 in a report of overcrowding to the Council and 
 have us turned out of house and home. I know 
 him now as a kind-hearted, humane man, but 
 then he represented " the powers that be." To 
 our minds at that time, they were soulless, 
 inhuman "powers," mysterious inquisitors, 
 whose one object was to get us all into the 
 workhouse.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 SOME NEIGHBOURS 
 
 ALTHOUGH I was fully determined to do my 
 part in the struggle against misfortune, I was 
 by no means contented with my lot. 
 
 I was well aware that I had little in common 
 with my companions and environment. For 
 one thing I had too much self-esteem quietly 
 to accept the social status in which I found 
 myself, whereas, so far as I could see, my com- 
 panions were not only contented, but had never 
 thought of questioning their lives. I had 
 always questioned my environment, although 
 to be sure at first it caused me to wonder 
 whether my discontent was not due to some 
 moral obliquity or mental kink which pre- 
 vented me from falling peacefully into my 
 allotted place and position in life. 
 
 As I grew older and learned the great lesson 
 of the slum to depend entirely upon myself 
 G 81
 
 82 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 I came to see that my place and position in 
 life depended more upon myself than anybody 
 else, that I was not like a section of a jigsaw 
 puzzle, formed simply for the purpose of fit- 
 ting into one particular corner of the social 
 picture ; but that if I kept my ideal of a steady, 
 ordered, cultured existence constantly before 
 me I should certainly attain it. 
 
 Two quotations constantly ran in my head; 
 I had seen them somewhere, quite in a casual 
 way. 
 
 The one 
 
 " Tis not in mortals to command success, 
 But we'll [I'll] do more, . . . deserve it," 
 
 of Addison; the other from the speech of 
 Polonius 
 
 "This above all, To thine own self be true; 
 And it must follow, as the night the day, 
 Thou canst not then be false to any man." 
 
 These quotations became my mottoes and 
 spurred my soul along its lonely path. 
 
 My companions prided themselves on being 
 " Moors," because in Morocco Street there was 
 always "something up." During my residence
 
 SOME NEIGHBOURS 83 
 
 two murders were committed by inhabitants; 
 whilst well-known neighbours were arrested 
 from time to time. 
 
 There were enough quarrels to satisfy the 
 most blase slum-dweller. For the most part 
 these were conducted in the open air, or if in- 
 doors with the windows wide open. As might 
 be expected, our neighbours were a curious lot 
 of people, living curious lives; and though a 
 common sympathy and help in the troubles of 
 life was in evidence from neighbour to neigh- 
 bour, the real facts as to how they got their 
 living, or of their relation to the outer world, 
 and the police, were guarded very closely 
 indeed. 
 
 There was Mrs. Dartmouth, for instance, 
 whose business was so shrouded in mystery as 
 to provide a continual source of conversation at 
 our doorstep. 
 
 The query was how Mrs. Dartmouth kept 
 three rooms nicely furnished (according to 
 Moorish ideas), herself, and a gouty husband 
 who had never been known to work. I doubt 
 if we should have known even by this time had 
 
 G 2
 
 84 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 not a shortage in business forced her to give 
 up one of her rooms, and to hang a card in the 
 front window. It was startlingly crude, this 
 piece of cardboard with the words 
 
 " DEAD BODIES WASHED HERE " 
 
 written across it. 
 
 That was how three rooms and a gouty hus- 
 band had been maintained ! Being a woman 
 of iron nerve she washed the bodies of the 
 dead before burial, thus netting a considerable 
 income from the relatives, to whom such a task 
 would have been awful. 
 
 Then there was Mrs. Joyce, who occupied 
 the top room in our house, and filled it with 
 a loafing husband, a large family, and a few 
 sticks that only an auctioneer would have called 
 furniture. The lady in question was always 
 most respectably dressed, was known to buy 
 the best of food, yet never complained because 
 her husband simply hung about the local 
 public-houses all day. She was, however, fre- 
 quently observed to take a large bundle out of 
 the house and to return without it. It became
 
 SOME NEIGHBOURS 85 
 
 known that she did not visit the local pawn- 
 broker, consequently my mother and the land- 
 lady often assured each other that something 
 " fishy " was going on. 
 
 The Joyce family were out one day when a 
 force of police came to search their room. 
 They were kept parleying at the door whilst 
 my mother and the landlady went up into their 
 room. Finding a large amount of obviously 
 stolen property, they hurriedly stowed it away 
 down-stairs in a large copper with the washing. 
 By the time the police forced an entrance, of 
 course all the evidences of her business had 
 been removed. 
 
 My mother and the landlady had, of course, 
 no complicity in the " hook-and-eye " business, 
 as thieving is termed, but had acted from that 
 feeling of uniting against the law which is so 
 strong in such streets. When Mrs. Joyce, 
 shoplifter, and her family returned, they were 
 promptly bidden to " clear out of it." 
 
 I believe Mrs. Joyce was somewhat torn 
 about in the fight that ensued. Anyway, she 
 promptly moved out of our street and lives.
 
 86 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 The Timminses, who lived next door, were 
 also notable people to whom the torch of 
 Micawber seemed to have been handed down. 
 "John Timmins, Esqre.," as he figured in his 
 bill-heads and local " Friendly Lead " tickets, 
 was a master chairmaker. That is to say, he 
 stood at the street door all day, with only a 
 waistcoat protecting his undershirt from the 
 gaze of the public, whilst his sons worked like 
 Trojans (if somewhat spasmodically) for a bare 
 subsistence and the paternal blessing. The 
 sons always worked right through the Friday 
 night, being at the bench for practically thirty 
 hours at a stretch, whilst Timmins Senior was 
 probably rendering " Yes ! Let me like a Soldier 
 fall " at some local gathering of topers. As he 
 always insisted on singing something " hopper- 
 attic" in his tin-kettle of a voice, he acquired 
 a reputation for being musically inclined and 
 being a lover of the Arts. He was a large bull- 
 necked person, whose main contribution to 
 conversation consisted of saying " Eh ! " in a 
 knowing sort of way, at the same time thrusting 
 out his neck to its uttermost limit.
 
 SOME NEIGHBOURS 87 
 
 The family dining-table was a disused bench 
 which still retained its old-time saw-cuts and 
 hard cakes of glue, upon which the plates 
 rocked precariously. They had two beds, one 
 for the parents and one for the girls : the boys 
 slept on the floor. The whole family washed 
 themselves every morning from a pail in the 
 backyard. They were, of course, very poor, but 
 were all blessed with a splendid imagination. 
 They would tell you of their magnificent furni- 
 ture ; their eyes would glisten as they described 
 in detail their fine dining-table with carved 
 legs; their washing apparatus was of almost 
 china-like fineness upon stands of the purest 
 marble and so they would lie, magnificently. 
 They would boast of their beautiful home, 
 their grand, indeed luxurious, habits of living; 
 the whole family always seemed to be on the 
 eve of a complete change of clothing, which 
 was deferred week by week till at last their old 
 garments would be so threadbare and worn 
 that fresh clothes were absolutely essential to 
 cover their nakedness. Even then the children 
 were lucky if they got a very second-hand set
 
 88 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 of clothing, a complete outfit costing about two 
 shillings " down the Lane." In this the pos- 
 sessor would patronize other less fortunate 
 youths, and instruct them in the art of knowing 
 a good piece of cloth when they saw it. 
 
 To boast was the common attribute of the 
 whole family. If I went a walk with Timmins 
 Junior, and saw a fine piece of furniture in a 
 shop window, "We've got one of those at 
 home," he would say. One day we saw a fine 
 bedroom suite, " Ours is just like that, only 
 bigger," he said, " and our washhand-stand's got 
 two basins." This to one who saw the whole 
 family wash out of a pail in the backyard every 
 morning ! 
 
 A wave of piano-respectability came into the 
 street; so the Timminses got one on the hire- 
 purchase system. The whole local population 
 stood round the window when the men hoisted 
 it in, to whom Mrs. Timmins described what 
 the transaction had been when she went to 
 choose it : " Eighteen guineas down, it was," 
 she told them; "he wouldn't take a farthing 
 less. Of course it's a good *un."
 
 SOME NEIGHBOURS 89 
 
 At our doorstep it was said that little Tommy 
 Timmins had lost his sleeping-place because 
 of that piano, but then envy has a lot to do 
 with reports like that. 
 
 The Timminses certainly had the glory of 
 possessing the piano, but none of them knew 
 how to play it. So upon special occasions a 
 youthful prodigy was imported, who was an 
 adept at " The Blue Bells of Scotland " with 
 variations, which she played for half-an-hour 
 off the reel, to the complete satisfaction of the 
 party. 
 
 The shutters were never closed on these 
 evenings, so quite a large crowd would 
 assemble outside the house and loudly encore 
 any particularly brilliant piece of fingering. 
 
 They were certainly among the most anxious 
 of all the " Moors " to become respectable, in 
 keeping with which ambition Maud brought 
 home a young man wearing a " top-hat." 
 
 There was a friendly rivalry about being 
 respectable between the Timminses and the 
 Potters. Something was said at our doorstep 
 about Penny Heads and Farthing Tails, but,
 
 90 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 generally speaking, it was considered that the 
 street had been honoured. Of course the 
 youthful Timminses were very cocky about it, 
 and indicated that they all took turns to brush 
 the hat when the owner a tall, gawky youth 
 facetiously dubbed "Wee McGregor" made 
 his appearance. This great importation finally 
 took up his abode with the Timminses, where he 
 was installed in the best room and was success- 
 fully hoodwinked as to the family resources 
 and social standing until he finally married 
 Maud, and moved into higher social spheres 
 among shop-keepers. 
 
 But I must cease to write of the Timminses, 
 lest my pen carry me into the heart of their 
 adventures and unto my last page. The 
 Timminses need a book to themselves.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 THE CALL OF SPRING 
 
 ANOTHER house in Morocco Street, a few 
 doors from ourselves, was occupied by a 
 cobbler in a small way of business, over whose 
 street door was painted the words 
 
 " THE LITTLE WONDER." 
 
 Through his window, behind rows of heavy 
 second-hand boots for sale, could be seen Mr. 
 Jordan working at his last, the cheery thud of 
 his hammer generally sounding until ten o'clock 
 at night. To us children a circle of light was 
 as attractive for play as a candle to a moth. 
 And so it came about that the pavement in 
 front of Mr. Jordan's front parlour shop win- 
 dow was the recognized area for certain games 
 after nightfall. 
 
 Mr. Jordan was far from appreciating this 
 use of his illumination; it prevented potential 
 customers from looking at the boots for sale, he 
 
 91
 
 92 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 considered, and so cleared us all away every 
 half -hour or so. 
 
 The cobbler was a Northampton man, who 
 had gravitated to the city of gold, hoping to 
 make a fortune; but was now, at the age of 
 thirty-two, becoming reconciled to a poor living 
 in a poor district, partly because of having 
 become disillusioned, but mainly because a wife 
 and four children were dependent upon him. 
 
 Once or twice I fetched some beer for him 
 from a local public-house, which procured me 
 a right of entry, in a way, to see him at work. 
 
 During the winter months he was always busy 
 enough to employ an old man of rugged 
 appearance with a shock of grey hair and 
 bright, intelligent eyes. " Old Bill " was the 
 only name he was known by even I called 
 him "Old Bill." 
 
 While the nights were long, and cold, rain, 
 and frost most typical of the weather, "Old 
 Bill " would sit at his bench, heel-balling or 
 sewing as patiently as anybody; but as soon as 
 the sap began to rise, and the buds to burst on 
 the trees, he would get fidgety, would rise from
 
 THE CALL OF SPRING 93 
 
 his stool, and, going to the door, would look at 
 the sky, with his hand shading his eyes. 
 
 "Weather breaking, eh?" Jordan com- 
 mented. 
 
 "Yes," the old cobbler would reply, as if a 
 new spirit had entered into him. 
 
 "Want to be off?" His employer took a 
 delight in putting these leading questions to 
 him. 
 
 "Not just yet," "Old Bill" replied; "but 
 very soon, very soon." 
 
 As the days lengthened his eyes fairly 
 glowed with anticipation, his restiveness 
 increased. 
 
 One evening I called in at Jordan's to find 
 a vacant chair. "Where's Old Bill?" I 
 inquired. 
 
 " God knows," was the reply. " Somewhere 
 in the country by now, getting fresh air and 
 seeing things." 
 
 " Does he go away every year ? " I asked. 
 
 " He has, ever since I've known him, George. 
 He's got the wandering spirit, and when he sees 
 the green leaves a-coming on the trees he has
 
 94 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 to go out and taste the country air; it would kill 
 him to stop here all the year round." 
 
 "And how does he get his living?" 
 
 " I don't suppose he knows, George, any 
 more than you do. He's got a mouth, and it's 
 got to be filled and he gets it filled, and that's 
 all about it" 
 
 :< Yes, but still," I would persist, " you have 
 to have money to buy food ; and where does he 
 get " 
 
 " Now don't ask any more questions, 
 George," were his final words on the matter; 
 " but go in the next room and ask Mrs. Jordan 
 for a jug, and get me half-a-pint of the finest 
 stout and mild, and ask the man to pull hard 
 at the handle, because it's for a working man 
 who's very thirsty." 
 
 The following winter " Old Bill " turned up 
 again, bronzed and tattered, with old bits of 
 string keeping his clothes together ; and settled 
 down again for a spell of shop work. 
 
 Just about Christmas Mr. Jordan unfortu- 
 nately caught a severe cold, which made him 
 very weak, and so incapacitated him that most
 
 THE CALL OF SPRING 95 
 
 of the work was thrown upon "Old Bill's" 
 shoulders. 
 
 " Bill," Jordan said one night after he had 
 been coughing a good deal, " I believe I'm 
 looking forward to the spring as much as you 
 
 are." 
 
 " Dessay you are, mate," he replied, " but 
 look sharp and get rid of that cough; it's a 
 reg'lar graveyard cough that is. I don't like 
 the sound on it." 
 
 "I'm all right, Bill," Jordan replied, "don't 
 you worry about me." 
 
 January and February came and went, but 
 Jordan was no better; he grew paler if possible, 
 his eyes began to stare at one. 
 
 " Don't like the looks o' you, mate," said 
 "Old Bill," "better see a doctor." 
 
 Still Jordan was sure he would soon be 
 better. " Next month's April," he said as 
 gaily as possible ; " I'll be all right before you 
 go." 
 
 I could see that " Old Bill " was feeling the 
 wander spirit coming over him, but he said 
 nothing to me.
 
 96 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 Then Jordan was seen by a doctor, who 
 ordered him to bed immediately. 
 
 " Poor Old Bill," he said to him one 'day, 
 " I know you want to get off, but you won't 
 just yet, will you? There's work to do and 
 only you to do it ; I'll be all right soon." 
 
 April went and May. Jordan was moved to 
 a hospital. All the life and spirit seemed to 
 die out of " Old Bill," his face became haggard, 
 he seemed to become just a tottering old man. 
 
 June and July came and went, and then 
 we heard that Jordan was consumptive. In 
 August he died. " Old Bill " did not stay long 
 after that. I saw a new man working in the 
 shop one day. I poked my head in at the door, 
 and said, "Where's Old Bill, mister?" 
 
 " I don't know any Old Bills," he growled, 
 " and what's more, I don't want to."
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 MUSICAL 
 
 IN common with the other small boys of our 
 street I was supposed to be the " young man " 
 of one of the small girls in this case, one 
 Polly Smeeton, a girl of infinite plaits and but 
 little variety of temper. 
 
 So far as I remember there was not the 
 slightest affection between us. We were always 
 falling out with each other in anger and re- 
 uniting with diffidence. A boy had worked me 
 into fighting him one day upon the purely 
 speculative question as to which of us Polly 
 Smeeton liked the best. By winning the fight, 
 I won the fair damsel, to my abiding sorrow 
 and periodical distress of mind ; for to say the 
 least of it, she was very captious. The alliance, 
 however, was desirable in some ways, for the 
 Smeetons were possessed of a large shed in 
 
 their backyard, a remarkable contrivance built 
 H 97
 
 98 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 of wood, in which I and Teddy Smeeton, the 
 fair one's brother, often larked about. 
 
 During my father's absence, adversity had 
 sharpened my wits enough to enable me to get 
 money in various ways. Two methods that 
 recur to me were roller-skate dealing, and 
 cigarette-picture transactions. 
 
 I gave twopence for a roller-skate in the first 
 place (borrowed capital), for which, after per- 
 forming certain graceful evolutions before an 
 admiring crowd of boys, I obtained sixpence. 
 
 With the sixpence I bought another a four- 
 penny skate ; paid back my twopence, and sold 
 this last for eightpence, and so on until the 
 game was played out. 
 
 Then I took up cigarette-pictures, of which I 
 bought from other boys a halfpennyworth (six), 
 I played the others " up the line " and won 
 every card they possessed. (The " line " is a 
 pavement joint at a convenient distance from 
 the kerb; we stood in the gutter and scaled 
 our cards as skilfully as possible up to the line ; 
 throwing six each, the one getting most cards 
 on or near the line capturing the whole twelve.)
 
 MUSICAL 99 
 
 After winning I sold to two of the boys a 
 pennyworth each and defeated them again. 
 In a single Sunday I made ninepence in this 
 way. Thus I was able to buy Dick's Com- 
 plete Shakespeare sixpence; and to have a 
 seat in the " gods " of the local music-hall, in 
 company with Teddy Smeeton. 
 
 It was the usual sort of performance : young 
 ladies who sang about nothing in particular; a 
 bull-necked individual, with a flag in one hand 
 and a sword in the other, who roundly declared 
 that " Britons " were " going to do or die " ; the 
 usual lurid sketch; and, best of all, the red- 
 nosed heavy comics. 
 
 How we loved those "brothers" who 
 thumped each other on their pillow-stuffed 
 breasts ! They parodied the first verse of 
 " Casabianca " thus 
 
 " The Boy stood on the burning deck, 
 The Crew they played at Banker, 
 The Captain swore he'd break his neck, 
 And calmly dropped the anchor." 
 
 But the great hit of the evening was the star 
 comedian, who sang a song called " Waiting 
 
 H 2
 
 100 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 there for me," in which he detailed the anxiety 
 prevailing in certain quarters for his return. 
 The house rose as one man to this great song. 
 .With one voice we echoed "Waiting there for 
 me." 
 
 "Grand, ain't it?/' Smeeton nudged me as 
 he spoke. " He's a wunner, he is ! " 
 
 The star comedian retired amid whistling, 
 cat-calls, and the cry of " 'Core ! 'core ! " 
 
 We went home with " Waiting there for me " 
 on our lips, and a bold idea in our minds : we 
 would start a street music-hall in Smeeton's 
 shed. 
 
 Later on young Philips was taken into our 
 confidence. Philips was a bloated capitalist, 
 had money, could always be relied upon for 
 threepence at least, often went to a music-hall, 
 and could fight well. 
 
 We found an orange-box that would do for 
 the stage. Smeeton said his mother would lend 
 us a blanket for the curtain; was, in fact, so 
 certain of her permission that he took it without 
 asking. Then we procured a long narrow box, 
 and placed a candle inside for the limelight.
 
 MUSICAL 101 
 
 I was deputed stage-manager, curtain manipu- 
 lator, and chief artiste. The affair was well 
 advertised verbally : "Admission, one farthing; 
 unparalleled array of talent," etc., etc. 
 
 Finishing touches were given to the stage, 
 and we prepared for our first performance. A 
 mob of some thirty boys and girls were waiting 
 outside half-an-hour before the time. They 
 were pushing and fighting each other from the 
 door a kaleidoscope of humanity in miniature. 
 
 "'Ark at 'em!" Smeeton's face blanched. 
 " You don't stop it," he threatened the crowd, 
 " our ole gal 'ill 'ear you in a minute, anH she 
 won't 'arf wallop the lot of yer ! " 
 
 We took the farthings quickly from all but 
 a few of the dreaded click, Braid and his 
 friends, who said, "We'll punch you in the 
 jaw if you try to stop us comin' in." And so, 
 after many jangles and "offerings out," we 
 seated the audience on the floor. 
 
 I got behind the curtain, and told Smeeton 
 to go on first. After much disputation I finally- 
 stepped on to that unsafe orange-box, and 
 louHly whispered 'directions for raising the
 
 102 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 curtain. Smeeton tugged for some minutes, 
 but without success; the Braid click started a 
 concert of their own, whilst I still stood upon 
 the stage, trembling at the coming ordeal. 
 
 I had to go round to the front and pull the 
 curtain up"; then the limelight fell over. 
 
 I eventually sang " Waiting there for me " ; 
 but so did everybody else; there was nothing 
 of the solo about it ; in fact, there was no appre- 
 ciable difference of sound when I had vacated 
 the stage for the next turn Philips. A thick- 
 set, heavy boy was Philips, whose only accom- 
 plishment was to recite " Casabianca," into 
 which he wove the music-hall parodies. He 
 wore a huge property beard ; nobody knew why, 
 except that, as he had it, he might as well wear 
 it. With arms swinging violently, his feet 
 stamping upon the treacherous orange-box, he 
 declaimed passionately. 
 
 The audience was listening attentively, when 
 a fight broke out near the limelight. Two boys 
 threw themselves at each other, the rest of the 
 audience rising to " see it out." When this 
 little fight was settled, Philips resumed his turn,
 
 MUSICAL 103 
 
 and, by way of emphasis, gave a special stamp 
 with his foot, whereat the orange-box collapsed, 
 Philips spread-eagled himself upon the assem- 
 bled company, bringing down the blanket also 
 in his fall. Heaps of dust that had accumu- 
 lated upon the beams of the old shed tumbled 
 down upon the struggling, amazed mass be- 
 neath ; our music-hall venture dissolved before 
 our eyes into a promiscuous battle. Philips, 
 extricating himself with difficulty, joined Smee- 
 ton and myself at the door of the shed to dis- 
 cover some means of getting the audience out 
 of the yard. It seemed to be a herculean task. 
 Now and again a board would be broken, and 
 a boy come crawling through the side of the 
 shed, echoing the pandemonium raging within. 
 
 " I dunno what to do," we severally 
 exclaimed. 
 
 "Oh! don't cher?" interrupted Mrs. Smee- 
 ton, who had crept out of the house, holding a 
 hand-broom as an Indian would a tomahawk. 
 "Don't cher?" she whooped. "My best 
 blanket ! " she punctuated between the blows 
 she rained upon us,
 
 104 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 We fled ... as far as possible from the 
 vision of Mrs. Smeeton chasing a chastened 
 mob out of her yard, and mourning over her 
 best blanket. 
 
 We never talked of music-hall or dramatic 
 ventures after that. We agreed that the street, 
 and our mothers, were incapable of appreciat- 
 ing great minds such as ours. Mrs. Smeeton 
 roundly declared that her little Teddy had been 
 led away by me, and forthwith forbade me to 
 play with her Teddy or her Polly. 
 
 The diversion created by this affair was soon 
 overlaid by new and more important happen- 
 ings. My father at last returned attenuated 
 in appearance, his face bearing the drawn, 
 sorrowful expression that betokens much pain. 
 He could not work yet awhile, so various 
 friends and relatives set about organizing a 
 " friendly lead." At a local public-house a 
 sing-song took place, " artistes " volunteering 
 from the assembled company. The tickets of 
 admittance to this were threepence each, whilst 
 during the evening the plate was passed round 
 several times. Each ticket was numbered, and
 
 MUSICAL 105 
 
 was to be retained after the " grand concert " in 
 order to participate in the " draw," or lottery of 
 goods enumerated and listed upon the tickets. 
 
 The goods were given by various friends and 
 relatives, and every one, I am sure, was a 
 sacrifice. My father's brother gave a silver 
 watch, which, I am sure, was the pride of his 
 heart. Unfortunately some people had taken 
 books of tickets (a book was twelve), for which 
 they never paid, although they sold them to 
 others. So, in some cases, prize-winners had 
 not contributed anything to our funds, which 
 swelled to about nine pounds as the result of 
 the " friendly lead." 
 
 Upon this money we lived until my father 
 went back to work (lame, to be sure); and life 
 resumed its somewhat humdrum course for us 
 all, until, at the age of twelve, I was withdrawn 
 from school and sent out "to find a job."
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 I AM LAUNCHED 
 
 MY twelfth Christmas was a melancholy 
 feast a time of forced gaiety and unsuccessful 
 songs, only illuminated for me by the announce- 
 ment that I was never going back to school 
 again, and that immediately after Christmas I 
 was to go out to work and commence life in 
 earnest. 
 
 What I was to do, or where I should obtain 
 a situation, was wrapped in the mystery of the 
 future. 
 
 At last the great day dawned. I was simply 
 given three slices of bread-and-butter and sent 
 out at nine o'clock that morning, with the 
 parental injunction not to return without "get- 
 ting a job." 
 
 I wandered miles that day, every step caus- 
 ing me to shed a portion of my preconceived 
 idea of a world anxious to obtain my services, 
 and eager to enlist a modern Whittington in its
 
 I AM LAUNCHED 107 
 
 service. I devoured the provender, and wished 
 for more, but plodded on, heedless of hunger, 
 anxious only to be able to return and say, " I've 
 got a job." 
 
 The world seemed very well contented with- 
 out rny services. I felt rather aggrieved at 
 this, and eventually retraced my steps, although 
 unwilling to own defeat for the day. 
 
 One often goes round the world for what 
 lies at hand. It was so with me, for after all 
 my wanderings it was in the very next turning 
 to Morocco Street that I came across a pudding 
 shop needing a boy. Off came my cap as I 
 entered the shop, and stammered out 
 
 " Please d'you want a boy?" 
 
 " H'm ! I'm afraid you're not big enough, 
 we want some one about seventeen," the good 
 lady replied. 
 
 " But I'm strong," I said, " and I don't mind 
 working." 
 
 "Well, how much do you want a week?" 
 she inquired, after a thorough observation of 
 my size and apparent capabilities. 
 
 " What are you offering ? " I inquired.
 
 108 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 "Well," she came from behin'd the counter 
 to get a better view of me as she spoke " I'll 
 give you four shillings a week that's with 
 your food as well, you know." 
 
 "All right," I replied; "can I start now?" 
 And I did. 
 
 As eight o'clock approached that evening I 
 was all impatience to be able to leave work 
 an'd rush home so that I might tell out the glad 
 tidings, " I've got a job'! " 
 
 My situation was not very agreeable : the 
 shop-keepers were very exacting, and the shop 
 was not over-clean. I saw a beetle crawling 
 amid the large " Leg of Beef " soup tins, which 
 inclines me to believe a story I have often been 
 told in connection with the place. 
 
 A man bought some " Leg of Beef " soup, 
 at the bottom of which he found the body of a 
 dead mouse. Holding it between his fingers 
 he approached the counter, and said, " Hi ! 
 guv'nor, I've found a mouse in your soup," to 
 which my employer was said to have replied, 
 " Well, what did you expect for your twopence 
 a rat?"
 
 I AM LAUNCHED 109 
 
 When I told them at home of my luck, they 
 shook their heads, and darkly muttered some- 
 thing about learning a trade. 
 
 "What trade?" I asked. 
 
 " Why, anything you can get, so long as it's 
 a trade," without the slightest indication of 
 method or means. 
 
 " But you said, ' Don't come home without 
 getting a job! ' didn't you? How can I pick 
 and choose under those conditions? " I argued. 
 
 The reply to this was, " You're getting 
 too big for your boots, and you'll have it 
 knocked out of you if you're not civil." 
 
 I went to work early in the morning and 
 failed in the first task that I was set, which was 
 to take down the shutters : huge things they 
 were. I blithely loosed the bolts, took down 
 the iron, spat upon my hands, and pulled at 
 number i shutter. It stuck for a moment and 
 then suddenly started from its place, over- 
 whelming me with its unexpected weight. It 
 fell with a crash upon the pavement, and took 
 me with it. 
 
 My employer came out to see what had
 
 110 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 occurred. I jumped up with alacrity : " Get- 
 ting them down, sir," I cheerfully said. 
 
 There was no reply for a minute or two, 
 when he said, " So it seems. Get inside and 
 start peeling potatoes." 
 
 I had been peeling potatoes for about three 
 hours at a stretch, when I was given a clean 
 apron and the name of William, and instructed 
 in the pudding-shop vocabulary, in preparation 
 for the coming dinner-time raid. Suddenly, 
 upon one o'clock striking, the shop filled with 
 a large number of men and boys, who shouted 
 their orders at the top of their voices. I was 
 bewildered by the great demand for my atten- 
 tions, but struggled valiantly with the "penny 
 pie and half of boiled potatoes " each and every 
 voice seemed to clamour for. Then as sud- 
 denly as the tumult had begun, it ceased. The 
 shop became empty before I was aware every- 
 body had been served, and so my first great 
 trial was over. My next duty was to clean 
 plates, knives and forks until at about half-past 
 three I received my dinner of what was left. 
 
 The day wore on without any particular
 
 1 AM LAUNCHED 111 
 
 diversion till, at about seven o'clock in the 
 evening, I perceived a group of small boys 
 flattening their noses against the shop window 
 and devouring with their eyes every little 
 particle of pudding. Then one or two darted 
 to the door, small heads bobbed in and out of 
 the shop. " Jor ge ! Jor ge ! " they loudly 
 whispered. " Well ! well ! well ! " said milady, 
 " this'll never do ; go and turn 'em away." I 
 went to the door and entreated them to depart, 
 but without success. Finally I said, " I'm 
 sure I'll get the sack if you don't go away." 
 They made a great show of departing, but for 
 the rest of the evening one head after another 
 bobbed round the corner and whispered 
 "Jor-ge." 
 
 The next morning a young man going to 
 work was subsidized to take 'down the shutters, 
 a task he repeated every morning during my 
 stay, thus causing my employer additional ex- 
 pense. These incidents no doubt influenced 
 him to say when paying my wages, " Can't give 
 you more than three shillings next week if you 
 like to stop."
 
 112 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 I told my mother of the " Irishman's rise " I 
 was about to get, in consequence of which it was 
 agreed that I must find another job this time, 
 a trade. I was told to come home to dinner on 
 Monday whether I had got a job or not, and 
 did so without any prospect of employment. 
 
 It so happened that I was next door, in 
 Timmins's shop (a miniature boxing arena, I 
 may say, on Mondays), when my brother 
 pushed his way through the broken fence and 
 said, " Father wants you." 
 
 I went indoors and learned from my father 
 that he had spoken to young Braid with a view 
 to getting a job for me at his place of business. 
 Braid was the son of one of my father's shop- 
 mates and had been out at work for some few 
 weeks. I was to go with him at two o'clock 
 and see the " guv'nor." 
 
 It was a very cold day, so round my neck and 
 most of my body was wound a huge knitted 
 scarf a gift from the Sunday School Christ- 
 mas treat. It made me feel warm, although it 
 also made my coat somewhat too tight to button 
 up comfortably.
 
 I AM LAUNCHED 113 
 
 " Wait outside the door until you see a fat 
 man come along," said Braid, " then ask him if 
 he wants a boy ; 'cos he's the guv'nor." 
 
 When the fat man did appear, I repeated 
 Braid's formula, " Please, sir, do you want a 
 boy?" 
 
 " Not to-day, sonny, not to-day," he replied 
 not unkindly at which I returned home. 
 
 Braid called for me when he left off work 
 that night, and told me some mistake had been 
 made. He had asked the governor if he had 
 seen me, to which he had replied, " What, that 
 bright little lad, d'ye mean? I didn't think of 
 the boy you were going to bring, tell him to 
 come to-morrow." So on the morrow I started 
 work at Smith & Veal's shop-fitting factory. 
 
 Every morning I called for Braid, who lived 
 in Turkey Lane, one of the worst culs-de-sac 
 in London, a turning I was always afraid to 
 enter. He was a heavy sleeper, and sometimes 
 I would bang at his knockerless door for a 
 quarter of an hour and then have to depart 
 without him. 
 
 My position was that of shop-boy an elastic
 
 term which I found covered many duties, the 
 most serious (for the men) being that of cooking 
 their dinners. I soon learned to fry bacon to 
 a turn, for lunch; whilst ordinary dinners such 
 as fried mutton cutlets, with potatoes and 
 cabbage, were soon easily within my reach. 
 It was rather unfortunate, though, that upon the 
 day of my arrival the men fancied an Irish stew. 
 I asked one or two of the workmen for a few 
 particulars; they only knew that a stew was 
 stewed that is, boiled and left to simmer. I 
 worked upon that, and got a saucepan half full 
 of water into which I dropped meat, potatoes, 
 pot-herbs and a little barley, made up a great 
 fire of shavings and firewood, and left it to 
 stew. 
 
 They never complained about it, only the 
 silent testimony of the large dishful which 
 remained from dinner rebuked me for my 
 culinary failure. 
 
 I had been out to work some six weeks when 
 the School Board began to busy themselves 
 about me. The automatic age for leaving was 
 fourteen, but at thirteen it was possible to get a
 
 I AM LAUNCHED 115 
 
 labour certificate by passing a sixth standard 
 examination. 
 
 It was decided that I could leave if I passed 
 the seventh standard. Consequently I got a 
 Saturday morning off from work on some pre- 
 text or other, sat for my exam., and fortunately 
 passed. 
 
 At Smith & Veal's were employed a num- 
 ber of lads aged from fifteen to eighteen, with 
 whom I took my teas. I was conscious of a 
 certain detachment from my workmates, to 
 whom Braid would relate some spicy account 
 of what his "click" "done" last night. I 
 would sit and watch their faces, note their 
 interrogations and the eagerness with which 
 they would introduce a similar story of " me 
 and my boys," or "me an' my mate," and I 
 would remain silent, so that I got the reputation 
 of being a quiet boy. Nothing very particular 
 happened at this shop, excepting that I learned 
 to plane up wood and to employ trade terms. 
 
 I was working in the men's shop over which 
 Veal was paramount. Veal was the most per- 
 fect mixture of so-called " gentleman " and 
 
 I 2
 
 116 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 hooligan that I have ever come across. He 
 would arrive at shop at 9 a.m. clothed in 
 immaculate City attire, brightly-polished " top- 
 hat," perfectly clean linen, and using a mincing, 
 affected carefulness of speech. After walking 
 up the stairs to our shop at the top of the 
 building, he would sit upon a box in his bench- 
 room and entirely change his clothes, even to 
 underclothing and socks, and with them pack 
 away carefully every vestige of respectability, 
 including his manner of speech. He then 
 folded his newspapers, shut the lid of the box 
 wherein his garments were stowed with a bang, 
 and gave vent to a string of most horrible oaths 
 and blasphemies by way of a start for the day. 
 He would continue all day in this vein, until at 
 seven o'clock in the evening he resumed his 
 other clothes and self, and returned to the 
 suburb from whence he came, where no doubt 
 he passed as a respected "something in the 
 City." 
 
 At home I began to gain some small amount 
 of consideration. Of the six shillings a week 
 I was earning, my mother had five and six-
 
 I AM LAUNCHED 117 
 
 pence. The five and sixpence was a very 
 welcome addition to the family income, seeing 
 that my father could earn very little and was 
 rapidly lapsing into his old ways. We often 
 found ourselves criticizing each other, my 
 father and I. With the enthusiasm of youth I 
 tried to point out the benefits of temperance, 
 tried to trace most of our misfortunes to over- 
 indulgence in alcoholic liquors. By way of 
 retort he would denounce me as a stuck-up 
 nincompoop, who was trying to be what I never 
 could reach to, one who was not content with 
 the honest "choker" or neckerchief of his 
 father, but must needs go in for a sixpenny- 
 halfpenny shirt-front and collar which by no 
 means matched my corduroy trousers or place 
 in life. Thus we would argue until my mother 
 brought it to a close by agreeing with me and 
 boxing my ears.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 SOME EMPLOYERS 
 
 I HAD been at Smith & Veal's for six 
 months; my parents and I had often compli- 
 mented each other because I was in the way 
 of learning a trade; when some one, vaguely 
 called a " City Gent," came one dinner-time 
 to see my father and myself. He had been to 
 my late school, he said, and had inquired about 
 trustworthy boys leaving school, to whom he 
 was able to offer most attractive and lucrative 
 positions. 
 
 The schoolmaster had given him several 
 names and addresses, laying especial emphasis 
 on mine, owing to which he desired to offer me 
 the post of cashier, at eight shillings per week. 
 He whispered confidentially to my father : 
 " Matter of two thousand a year passing 
 through his hands, so, owing to the high recom- 
 mendations of the head master, I can offer him 
 
 118
 
 SOME EMPLOYERS 119 
 
 the job." Then he added, as an after-thought, 
 "Have a drink?" When I knew Mr. Fordex 
 more I grew very familiar with that after- 
 thought. 
 
 My father declined with thanks. I was 
 patted about (greatly to my disgust), the wealth 
 of eight shillings a week was flashed before 
 my dazzled eyes, I was told of the joys of 
 City life, and the feeling of being among 
 the " Heads," to which rank I might with 
 honesty, industry and patience eventually 
 attain. 
 
 It was the word Cashier that really dazzled 
 me. 
 
 " Blow the trade ! " said my father. 
 
 " Go where the money is," counselled my 
 mother. 
 
 I thought it very fine, this first great open- 
 ing in life, saw myself rising in imagination to 
 unexpected heights. 
 
 With my small savings augmented from the 
 family coffers I was taken by my mother to 
 buy a new suit of clothes, with which to im- 
 press my prospective employer. Very fine suit,
 
 120 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 I thought, until a month's wear revealed its 
 common canvas quality. 
 
 I rushed home from Smith & Veal's the 
 next Saturday, changed quickly into my new 
 clothes, and tightly holding a letter given me 
 by Fordex, walked to the Royal Exchange. 
 There was a little shop in the building itself 
 a small dark place, with a large bright veneer 
 of periodical literature over the stall board. 
 Surmounting the whole was a notice declaring 
 that " Faithfull's posters are on every chimney- 
 pot in the United Kingdom," or words to that 
 effect. 
 
 I walked across the square and delivered my 
 note to a pallid-faced youth, who was sprawling 
 over the papers watching a red-coated boot- 
 black cuff a messenger boy. 
 
 The pallid-faced youth read the letter and 
 gave me directions as to getting into the shop. 
 I went through a low narrow passage-way to 
 the second door, at which stood my future 
 governor, the pallid-faced youth referred to, 
 Mr. Limpet. 
 
 " So you're one of the new boys," he said.
 
 SOME EMPLOYERS 121 
 
 brushing invisible specks of dust from his coat 
 as he spoke, "one of the boys Fordex went 
 and got ? " 
 
 I said I hoped I should give satisfaction, 
 and inquired about the nature of my future 
 occupation. 
 
 " Oh ! take turns with me to sell the papers 
 at the board; much better job than the other 
 boys'll have. They'll take papers round club's 
 and that sort of thing, while you'll be in a 
 position of trust." 
 
 I felt somewhat Hisillusioned about the 
 "cashier" part of the job; still, I returned 
 home with optimistic estimates of my new 
 position. I gave a week's notice to Smith & 
 Veal, with the information that I was leaving 
 to " better myself," which gave the other boys 
 furiously to think and, perhaps, to envy. 
 
 I started at Faithfull's on the Monday, wear- 
 ing my new suit; but on Tuesday in my old 
 clothes, for on Monday evening my best rai- 
 ment was pawned. My opinion of Faithfull's 
 underwent some such change; I started hope- 
 fully and brightly, but soon became disap-
 
 122 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 pointed and gloomy. I found that Fordex was 
 a sort of clerk, whose chief occupation was to 
 obtain a sufficient supply of boys to replace 
 those who were constantly leaving. 
 
 There was absolutely no prospect of 
 advancement at Faithfull's. The duties were 
 not particularly onerous ; the chief requirement 
 being great quickness at certain times of the 
 day. I had to fold papers from about 7 a.m. 
 to about 8 a.m. Then after breakfast I would 
 take a large number of Times round to the 
 Stock Exchange, and papers to the various 
 clubs and telegraph companies. A period 
 of "cashiering" would follow till dinner-time. 
 Dinner-time was a happy respite, without much 
 to eat, but with plenty to see such as the 
 frescoes in the Exchange, or the old City 
 churches. 
 
 I folded my papers in company with a man 
 named Devine, a short, sandy-coloured man 
 with a great air of alertness about him. He 
 had, he assured me, the paper trade at his 
 ringer tips, but could only command twenty-four 
 shillings a week; not a very promising outlook
 
 SOME EMPLOYERS 123 
 
 for me, I thought, especially when I learned 
 that our Fordex, a man of large assumption, 
 indeed arrogance, who appeared to live at the 
 rate of five pounds a week, was in receipt of 
 twenty-six shillings. 
 
 To the average boy of thirteen the future of 
 his life is more a matter for idle speculation 
 than the feeling of a chain development from 
 links now being forged. The latter idea 
 obsessed me. I was always thinking of my 
 future, and soon felt anxious about not being 
 favourably situated. Faithfull's job was a 
 sham'; there was no chance of a rise even. So 
 I decided to leave, and to get back to the wood- 
 working trade into which I ha'd already been 
 initiated. Beside the need of leaving for the 
 sake of my future a very present evil obtruded 
 itself. Our part of the building was totally 
 devoid of the requisite sanitary appointments. 
 In addition to this, the lack of proper food (I 
 frequently dined on a halfpennyworth of ice- 
 cream) had its physical and mental effect. I 
 was getting very thin, began to feel dull during 
 work-hours and "washed out" afterwards.
 
 124 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 Most of the other boys had been replaced 
 during my stay of two months; I felt I could 
 not endure it much longer. I said nothing at 
 home : the two-shilling rise over Smith & 
 Veal's wages meant so much to them that I 
 decided to get another job, and break the news 
 gently when I had burned my boats. 
 
 I had heard that a Mr. Batty, a frequent 
 visitor to my old school, was in need of a shop 
 boy in his cabinet factory. He had made the 
 announcement to the older boys whilst gathered 
 together to hear his celebrated lecture, " The 
 Defence of Rorke's Drift." 
 
 He was a plutocratic self-made man, who 
 loved to pose as a scholar. He would place 
 his hand upon his breast and commend himself 
 as an ideal for the boys to copy. 
 
 'The boy who gets this 'ere job," he said, 
 " will have an excellent opportunity to learn the 
 trade, an opportunity such as few boys get 
 now-a-days." However, no boy was leaving 
 the school just then, so the job was vacant. I 
 applied for it, saw Mr. Batty in his shop, but 
 was told to apply to Batty Junior, whose shop
 
 SOME EMPLOYERS 125 
 
 was in a side street. There was nothing very 
 attractive about the appearance of the latter's 
 shop. It was at the top of a high building, the 
 ascent of the stairs being accelerated by the 
 ferocious barking of an unseen dog. The 
 whole place was in semi-darkness, including 
 the workshop itself, for Batty Junior loved 
 economy, and never turned on the gas until 
 it was quite impossible to see without some 
 illumination. 
 
 I told him of my past experience in the trade, 
 by virtue of which he offered me six shillings 
 and sixpence a week. I accepted it. 
 
 Not a hint was given to Faithfull's of my 
 approaching departure. Only to Ginger Jones, 
 another paper boy, did I breathe any intima- 
 tion. He was sorry to lose a chum one who 
 had shared the handles of an ice-cream cart 
 during many a dinner hour and he suggested 
 a visit to a mysterious coffee-house he knew, 
 as a sort of Grand Finale. It was situated in 
 one of the waterside lanes off Eastcheap. A 
 more desperate-looking lot of ruffians, tramps 
 and nondescripts I never saw. The place was
 
 really a lodging-house of the lowest type. A 
 few forms and benches were scattered about, 
 upon which mugs of tea often alternated with 
 some tattered garment undergoing repairs. At 
 the end of the room was a large open fire-place, 
 where the water was boiled, bread toasted, and 
 tramps' only shirts were being dried, whilst 
 their owners sat holding their coats about them 
 to hide their nakedness. 
 
 We got a lot of tea for a penny, but accus- 
 tomed though I was to low types of people, I 
 was frightened and felt glad to come away. 
 
 On Saturday evening I said good-bye to 
 Ginger Jones and to visions of being " some- 
 thing in the City," and went home to break the 
 news. Fortunately they took it rather well, 
 my thin, emaciated appearance doubtless prov- 
 ing a very great argument for the change. And 
 so I retraced my steps, for the sake of the 
 present and the future.
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 A VERY ' DEAD CERT ' 
 
 BATTY already employed an old school chum 
 of mine, so I did not feel entirely a stranger, 
 although the chum's welcome was not par- 
 ticularly warm, nor his opinion of Batty very 
 high. Our employer was a man of splendid 
 physique, an overbearing yet ingratiating 
 person. His chief virtue was courage, his 
 great failing meanness. He starved himself 
 and his dog, to my mind the worst of all 
 possible crimes. A penny saveloy with a lot 
 of mustard and a halfpennyworth of bread very 
 often constituted his dinner; sometimes the 
 remains of a halfpennyworth of tea for lunch 
 would be hotted again for dinner; whilst to 
 the dog (a large hungry mongrel) was doled out 
 two small puppy biscuits morning and evening. 
 He was, I believe, emulating the man who 
 diminished his horse's food by a few oats a day 
 
 until it was reduced to nothing, for when we 
 
 127
 
 128 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 ran out of puppy biscuits, he would reply to 
 my reminder, " Oh, a little fast will do him 
 good ! " Whenever I saw any bones in the 
 street I took them to the dog, a practice my 
 governor encouraged, because he could then 
 stop the biscuits for a time. 
 
 I was soon " licked into shape," given 
 boards of hard walnut to cut down with a hand- 
 saw, rough boards of deal to jack-plane, mould- 
 ings to sandpaper, etc. I was not allowed a 
 minute's rest, but kept on the move from eight 
 in the morning to whatever time I could get 
 away at night. There was no clock in the shop, 
 so at first I stayed, waiting to be dismissed, 
 until ten o'clock at night ; but afterwards, 
 when I knew Batty better, I left as soon after 
 8 p.m. as I could. 
 
 He asked me one night how I knew it was 
 eight o'clock. I said, " By careful observa- 
 tion," whereupon he found that the dog's 
 biscuits needed fetching, or a Night Star, or a 
 pennyworth of " Tottenham Cake " for his own 
 midnight consumption. He bought " Totten- 
 ham Cake " because you get about five inches
 
 A VERY 'DEAD CERT' 129 
 
 square of it, an inch and a half thick, for a 
 penny. Consequently I did not get away till 
 about nine o'clock a long day's work; but as 
 I could go home to dinner I felt no particularly 
 bad effects. Then Batty Junior went and got 
 married, and taking home firewood to his house 
 added considerably to my labours. He lived 
 some two miles away from the shop in a 
 northern " residential " district, a quarter of an 
 hour's walk from the main road. 
 
 At a quarter to eight in the evening he would 
 give me a sack of wood to take to his house. 
 I was to put the wood with the tram-driver, 
 get up on top, pay the penny I was given, and 
 carry my burden, when the tram stopped at a 
 certain public-house, through half a mile of 
 streets to his house. 
 
 Of course the tram-drivers used to object, 
 and often refused the carriage, because at that 
 time of the evening the cars were packed with 
 people and the horses overworked. So I just 
 had to carry a sack of firewood bigger than 
 myself all the way, not getting home till about 
 half-past nine.
 
 130 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 My employer only laughed if I remonstrated, 
 told me it would make me strong, that time was 
 of no value to me. So I asked him for a " rise," 
 and got another sixpence a week, when he had 
 finished blustering about my cheek. 
 
 The workmen were a hard-working, hard- 
 drinking lot, with Harry Hews as nominal 
 foreman. With Batty working at the bench no 
 other authority counted for much, but Hews 
 was given the courtesy title, because he drew 
 the highest hour- work wages in the shop, viz. 
 sevenpence-halfpenny an hour. The method 
 of working was " hand-in-hand " : several ward- 
 robes being undertaken jointly between Batty, 
 Hews, Kates, Berth, and Fells, the last-named 
 being my old schoolmate. 
 
 Hews was a humorous individual, whose 
 nervous manner gave point to his atrocious 
 puns. Kates was a swaggering bouncer, who 
 at the age of twenty-three had a wife and two 
 children, an extensive acquaintance with low 
 women, a passion for betting, and fivepence 
 per hour. 
 
 Derth also was married, lived at Enfield,
 
 A VERY 'DEAD CERT' 131 
 
 took home a week's groceries in a sack on 
 Saturdays, and often tramped to work and back 
 when short of the twopenny railway fare. 
 
 I was rapidly learning to do a few things 
 could use a saw pretty well, could plane and 
 paper up, and soon came to the conclusion that 
 the wardrobe branch of cabinet-making was 
 unpromising, to say the least of it. I therefore 
 decided to follow the advice I constantly 
 received from Hews and others, and get into 
 the general trade, and let events assist me. 
 
 Tea-time is the great half-hour of the work- 
 day. All the men sat round the fire-place and 
 engaged in conversation, Hews mostly telling 
 of his son in Mandalay, K&tes of his base 
 adventures, or of how his " fancy " acquitted 
 itself in such and such a race. Sometimes the 
 conversation turned to deeper matters : religion 
 or politics, subjects I used to consider my own, 
 and upon which I used to dilate accordingly. 
 
 One evening we were discussing the reasons 
 for believing in a God, dwelling for a time on 
 the revelation of God to Man as recounted in 
 the Bible. " See," I said, " over forty different 
 
 K 2
 
 writers in one book, thousands of years between 
 the first and the last. Do you mean to tell me 
 all of them were mistaken?." 
 
 " Lot of rot," said Kates. " Be as good as 
 you can, I say, and if you can't be good well, 
 you're living naturally; besides, what's it 
 matter?" 
 
 I was about to reply hotly, when Hews said, 
 " Now you're talking about the Bible well, 
 I've never read the Bible in my life." 
 
 " Never ! " I ejaculated. 
 
 " No, never, although I've often thought I 
 should like to know what it's about." 
 
 Thereupon I offered to bring a Bible to 
 read the next tea-time, which I did, starting 
 with the Book of Esther, because I had told 
 them the Bible was a store-house of dramatic 
 stories amongst other things, and desired to 
 prove it. 
 
 Unfortunately the nights were drawing in. 
 At this particular tea-time the shop was too 
 dark for me to see the print of the Bible^ so I 
 struck a match and lit just a glimmer of gas- 
 light, which brought Batty from his " office " (a
 
 A VERY 'DEAD CERT' 133 
 
 box three feet square) demanding in a tower- 
 ing rage 
 
 " Who turned the bally gas on ? " 
 
 I confessed myself guilty, and told him I 
 was reading the Bible to the men. 
 
 " What ! d'ye expect to convert 'em ? " he 
 inquired sneeringly. "Opening a loving Bibje 
 Class in my shop ? " Then he changed to 
 his habitual, overbearing manner, "Out with 
 that gas; if ever I find you lighting it again 
 without my consent I'll stop it out of your 
 wages." 
 
 The next day we converse'd about Hews's son 
 in Mandalay, and Kates's opinion of Pretty 
 Flossie's chances in the Helter Skelter Handi- 
 cap in the dark. 
 
 When work was over for the day I invariably 
 went for a short walk alone; my long work- 
 hours had lost me my few acquaintances, and 
 it was my humour. 
 
 My supper allowance of a halfpenny was 
 spent during the walk, if not in food for the 
 body, then for the mind, for I directed my steps 
 towards a row of second-hand bookstalls, over
 
 134 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 which I lingered, and graduated as a book 
 lover. 
 
 Among my mother's ambitions one was to 
 have a family Bible, wherein to inscribe the 
 names and birthdays of the whole family. I 
 bought a large musty copy of the Book of 
 Books for twopence, and duly presented it to 
 her. 
 
 Thus week-nights. 
 
 Saturday evening was devoted to the play 
 lurid, streaky melodrama, in which the villain 
 always vowed to steep his hands in the hero's 
 gore. " Look out ! " an overwrought galleryite 
 would shout, " 'e's going to stab yer with a 
 knife." Or when the poisoned cup was offered 
 to the handsome hero, the action of the play 
 would be delayed by voices anxiously bidding 
 him not to drink it. " Shut up, Fathead ! " some 
 grumpy old chap would say to the nearest pos- 
 sessor of one of these voices; "'ow can the 
 play go on if he don't get drugged? Besides, 
 the 'ero's bahnd to win in the end, ain't 'e ? " 
 
 A rapt silence would ensue until the comics 
 came on to dispel some of the tragic gloom.
 
 A VERY 'DEAD CERT' 135 
 
 I must confess I often found the comic part 
 gloomy and the tragic part a mine of humour. 
 I know now that it really was as I understood 
 it, although then I rather feared something was 
 lacking in my composition ; I felt myself to be 
 a funny sort of chap fancy laughing at what 
 others took so seriously ! Yet how absurd it 
 all was, after all ! 
 
 I severed my connection with these Saturday 
 night orgies, because, when I had scarcely a rag 
 to my back as the result of firewood carrying, 
 and the effect of Anno Domini sartorially, I 
 was told to buy all my own clothes for the 
 future, and was allowed threepence a week 
 extra out of my earnings for that purpose. 
 This meant, of course, that practically all my 
 pocket money would have to go towards cloth- 
 ing myself. Consequently the 'drama was an 
 unattainable luxury for me. As a matter of 
 fact, I never went again to such plays, for 
 when I could afford it I had lost the desire. 
 My ruling passion now was to get a new suit 
 for Sunday wear, and to be " tidy " during the 
 week. But what a problem it was on nine-
 
 136 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 pence a week, out of which I paid three-half- 
 pence to have my collar and front done up 
 at a launHry ! 
 
 I saved nearly the whole of my pocket money 
 for months, giving the weekly instalments to 
 my mother to mind. When I had saved fifteen 
 shillings I asked for it back, feelingly highly 
 elated because at last I was near my goal. 
 
 " You've given me no fifteen shillings," 
 replied my mother. 
 
 " Yes, I have," I protested, and showed a 
 slip of paper on which I had kept account of 
 my contributions. 
 
 " No fear ; it's about ten shillings," she 
 replied. Apparently she had spent the money 
 as she received it, to meet the pressing de- 
 mands on her purse, and had not noticed the 
 comparatively heavy accumulation. 
 
 "All right," I said at last in despair; "give 
 me the ten shillings." 
 
 " I can't give you ten shillings at a moment's 
 notice," she said. " How do you think we can 
 live?" 
 
 I believe I never felt more grieved in my
 
 A VERY 'DEAD CERT' 137 
 
 life than I did then. My hopes had all been 
 centred upon this day; amusements had been 
 cheerfully given up and now 
 
 " I'll give you back a shilling a week," my 
 mother said, " until it's all paid back, and then 
 you'd better mind your own." 
 
 I could not trust myself to speak, my arms 
 dangled loosely from my body; I went for a 
 long walk. 
 
 I had to start saving all over again to get 
 that suit, for my mother was unable to keep up 
 the shilling repayments after the first two or 
 three, whereupon I forgave it as a bad debt. 
 
 Kates was brimming over just then with 
 details of Pretty Flossie's chances in the big 
 race. 
 
 "Absolute cert," he said, "the Green Card 
 gives it too. And fancy the price, twelve to 
 one against ! George, my boy, if anybody asks 
 you what you know, say Pretty Flossie for the 
 ' Big 'Un.' Me and my missus are going to put 
 Sunday's dinner and the rent on it so you 
 can bet it's a bit of all right." 
 
 His enthusiasm was infectious. For the rest
 
 138 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 of the week nothing could be heard but " Pretty 
 Flossie"; the other men vying with Kates in 
 describing the mare's coming victory. 
 
 I became fired by the example of the others. 
 I could do with some money, I reasoned, and 
 if, by putting a shiHing on an " absolute cert," 
 I could win back twelve a couple of hours later, 
 why not? I asked myself why shouldn't I 
 take advantage of this exclusive tip, and 
 get my new suit without any more tedious 
 saving ? 
 
 The race was run on a Saturday. In the 
 ordinary course of events we should have been 
 paid our wages at one o'clock, thus leaving 
 ample time for a deal with the bookmaker. 
 But upon this Saturday Batty wanted a sack 
 of wood taken home to his house, and beyond 
 giving me the usual penny for my tram fare, 
 sent me off penniless, saying that I could have 
 tea at his house, after which he would pay me 
 my wages. 
 
 When I left his house it was five o'clock in 
 the afternoon, the whole of my wages were in 
 my pocket, but I felt chagrined to think of that
 
 A VERY 'DEAD CERT' 139 
 
 other twelve shillings I should have had by 
 backing the " dead cert." 
 
 Out of curiosity to know the result I bought 
 a halfpenny paper and eagerly scanned the 
 Stop Press Column on the inside page. 
 
 "3.30." Ah! there it was. "Surprise i. 
 Beatall 2. The Unknown 3. Also ran : Pretty 
 Flossie," etc., etc. 
 
 Is it surprising that I thought I had been 
 specially watched over by Providence, and that 
 I determined never to bet upon the " deadest of 
 certs," however hard up I should happen to be 
 in the future?
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 BORLAND STREET CHAPEL 
 
 AT last, by dint of careful saving, I got to- 
 gether sufficient money to buy myself a neat 
 second-hand suit of clothes, nothing very great 
 or grand, but it made me feel more content with 
 my outer person. 
 
 I began to desire a change in my habits, and 
 one evening presented myself at the Webbe 
 Institute, which is in connection with Oxford 
 House, and applied for admission both to the 
 club and the cadet corps attached to it. It was 
 necessary to belong to the club in order to 
 join the cadet corps. I was duly proposed, 
 seconded, and elected a member. 
 
 In various ways and at different times I had 
 been in touch with elementary military associa- 
 tions, such as the Boys' Brigade and the Church 
 Lads' Brigade, although I have not deemed 
 such attachments to merit attention in previous 
 
 chapters. 
 
 140
 
 BORLAND STREET CHAPEL 141 
 
 Military service fascinated me. Deep down 
 within me was the conviction that when I 
 reached eighteen years of age I should join 
 the army. 
 
 For that reason I eagerly listened to all that 
 Hews had to say of his son in Burma, and 
 treasured up accounts of how his son got him- 
 self transferred from one battalion to another 
 in order to change his station, in case I should 
 ever want to do the same. 
 
 The reader may perhaps inquire why I 'did 
 not take the obvious step and join at once. 
 For that my parents' consent was necessary, 
 and my father and mother had a positive hatred 
 of " good-for-nothing " soldiers, as they dubbed 
 them. They considered that joining the army 
 was as bad, and brought as much disgrace upon 
 a family, as becoming a burglar. 
 
 I must admit that the recruits supplied by 
 our street and Turkey Lane were the most 
 ruffianly and desperate characters of which 
 even that region could boast. Braid, for in- 
 stance, had before this joined a Scotch regi- 
 ment; had deserted, sold his kit, and rejoined
 
 142 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 in the Hussars by the time my predilections led 
 me to join the Cadet Corps of the Queen's 
 Royal West Surrey Regiment and the Webbe 
 Institute. I quickly became " efficient " in my 
 drills, etc., and was allowed to take my carbine 
 and bayonet home. 
 
 Until then I had not breathed a word to my 
 parents, but a carbine and bayonet are rather 
 awkward things to hide, living in only one 
 room"; so I was not surprised one dinner-time 
 to be confronted by an irate mother who had a 
 " bone to pick " with me. 
 
 What were my intentions? she questioned. 
 Did I want the whole family to be accidentally 
 shot dead? Was I anxious that my younger 
 brothers should grow up minus arms or legs? 
 
 I suggested that the carbine would probably 
 explode if I tried to shoot with it, and, to use 
 a favourite figure of speech, the bayonet 
 " wouldn't cut butter when it's hot." 
 
 My mother then dwelt at some length upon 
 the social degradation that must inevitably 
 ensue even through playing at " Saturday 
 Night Soldiers." I retorted that the idea of
 
 BORLAND STREET CHAPEL 143 
 
 social degradation was rather ridiculous when 
 one is perilously near the bottom already; 
 which, of course, precipitated a violent storm, 
 from which I was glad to escape back to work. 
 
 On arriving home that evening I was sur- 
 prised to see bales of bedding in the corners of 
 the room, the walls bare of their wonted orna- 
 ments and pictures, everything indicating a 
 moving job. 
 
 " Hullo ! " I said to my brother, who was 
 carefully rolling up our only piece of linoleum 
 (about three feet by two) ; " hullo ! what's up ? " 
 
 " Moving away," he said, as if it were the 
 most everyday thing in the world to do. Yet 
 he and I had been born in that room, had lived 
 all our lives between those familiar walls. 
 
 " We're going to be high up in the world," 
 he ventured to observe. " Got two rooms up 
 by Turkey Lane, top floor." 
 
 " Well, fancy never telling me ! " I com- 
 plained; then attempted great feats in the way 
 of carrying goods. 
 
 The time it takes to move one roomful of 
 goods into two a little higher up the street,
 
 144 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 when the vehicle is a little hand-barrow and the 
 labourers are small boys, is simply astounding. 
 By about eleven o'clock we were in our new 
 apartments that is to say, we then sat upon 
 chairs and confessed ignorance as to where 
 anything was. Finally, by about half-past 
 twelve, the beds were made up upon the floor 
 and we sank to rest, thankful that moving-day 
 was over. 
 
 Under the influences of regular drills and 
 home food I rapidly gained in physique and 
 health. As soon as I left work I rushed off 
 to the " Institute," or, as we termed it, the 
 " Webbe," for the rest of the evening. I had 
 no desire for company at this age my life was 
 very largely individual. I could amuse myself 
 very well, go for long rambles alone, and 
 enjoy them. My love for the country asserted 
 itself. Upon many a Sunday I walked from 
 the East End to Barnet and back, or else to 
 Chingford and High Beech those forest 
 glades so near and dear to the heart of the 
 East Ender.
 
 BORLAND STREET CHAPEL 145 
 
 On these walks I often speculated as to what 
 the future had in store for me. Should I be- 
 come a great man? Perhaps I should just 
 manage to be a respectable artisan in a good- 
 class workshop. Or was it possible I should 
 find myself a typical "Moor" in spite of my 
 struggles, in accordance with my parents' 
 cynical prophecies? When I thought of that 
 my stride would lengthen, my arms would 
 work like piston-rods pumping into my mind 
 the one word Never. 
 
 Then I would think of becoming a soldier, 
 of enjoying the open air, of the delight of 
 travelling. But generally I would begin to 
 doubt whether I should like to be ordered 
 about very much. My thoughts would then 
 take a huge jump to farming in Canada. The 
 open air, the delights of pioneer work, the pos- 
 sibilities (as detailed in various laudatory 
 pamphlets), of becoming wealthy, causing me 
 to overlook the arduous toil, hardships, lack of 
 experience, and difficulties insuperable from 
 want of capital. In a minor degree I had the 
 idea of joining the Navy as a carpenter when
 
 146 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 I should become old enough; and so, during 
 my days and nights these designs for my 
 future life would permeate my thoughts. One 
 day I would feel martial, would march erect 
 thinking of army life ; on the next I thought of 
 nothing but farming and Canada. All the 
 pamphlets I could carry were then stuffed into 
 my pockets to be perused at frequent intervals, 
 and exhibited whenever the audience happened 
 to be sympathetic. 
 
 One day, when my head was particularly full 
 of farming and Canada, my pockets alarmingly 
 stretched by pamphlets, and my arms over- 
 loaded with beer-cans, I met a boy also out for 
 workmen's lunches, who had been in Mr. God- 
 frey Warden's class at the Ragged School. 
 
 " What cher, Simpson ! " I shouted to him 
 across the road ; " working round here ? " 
 We met in the bar of the " Farmers' Arms," 
 and talked of old times and present occupa- 
 tions, both social and industrial. With a 
 medley of provisions in our gathered aprons, 
 through which mustard pickles were becoming 
 more and more visible, and with half-a-dozen
 
 BORLAND STREET CHAPEL i47 
 
 cans on each arm, we stayed at the corner and 
 talked. 
 
 " Must be fine out there," I continued, with 
 an expressive jerk of the head. 
 
 ' Yes, it's a grand place ; the fellows are so 
 sociable, you know," he replied. 
 
 " It'll take me a long time to save up six 
 pounds out of ninepence a week, buying my 
 own clothes," I said thoughtfully; to which he 
 answered 
 
 ' 'Ow I came to go there was like this 
 
 ' You never went to Canada ! " I interrupted. 
 
 "Who said I did?" 
 
 " You did." 
 
 "No, I didn't! I was talking about Dor- 
 land Street Chapel and the way I came to go 
 there ; was " 
 
 Our conversation was interrupted at this 
 juncture by my ear being gently pulled by 
 somebody behind me. I turned round sharply 
 and found myself face to face with my em- 
 ployer, Mr. Batty, who still retained hold of 
 my ear, and was inquiring anxiously if my 
 joints wanted oiling. 
 
 L 2
 
 148 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 I replied, " Not this morning, thank you." 
 
 " You cheeky brat ! " he said. " Get a move 
 on you, or I'll knock your head off." So 
 Simpson and I parted until eight o'clock in 
 the evening, when we again met and walked 
 home together, talking. 
 
 " Belong to the Webbe ? " he inquired. 
 
 " For a year or more," I replied. 
 
 " Rough sort of show, ain't it ? " 
 
 "Well, some people say it is," I answered, 
 "and none of them know what they're talking 
 about." 
 
 :< Well, it's got a bad name," he continued. 
 
 " So had the dog," I said bitterly. 
 
 "What dog?" 
 
 "Why, you know, give a dog a bad name and 
 hang him that dog, I mean; but still, what 
 about this chapel you were telling me of ? " 
 
 "Oh, love us ! " he said; "it ain't 'alf a fine 
 place. I go to a C.E. that stands for ' Chris- 
 tian Endeavour,' you know every Thursday 
 night; sit among all the girls! they do sing 
 nicely, and they're so nice, treat you like one 
 of theirselves, you know; nothing stuck-up
 
 BORLAND STREET CHAPEL 149 
 
 about 'em; ain't missed one attendance yet 
 since I joined." 
 
 I believe he only paused for breath, but I 
 took the opportunity to supply my fair share of 
 the conversation by remarking, " The gym- 
 nastics they teach you at the Webbe are good 
 for you.'* 
 
 "Yes; but why don't you come and join 
 Borland Street? They don't preach at you 
 much, no shouting about Jesus, or telling you 
 what a wicked sinner you are. I believe they 
 live good first, and influence you like by that. 
 Come up next Thursday night," and then as 
 an additional inducement he said, " Everybody 
 shakes hands with you." 
 
 " Girls and all ? " I inquired sceptically, for 
 the other sex was then a novelty and a mystery 
 to me. 
 
 " That's the best part about it ! " He slyly 
 nudged me. " Introduce you to 'em all ; " then 
 whispering confidentially, " One of 'em's fair 
 gone on me wants to go out with me." 
 
 " Why, you've had five already ! " I replied. 
 " How many more ? "
 
 150 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 At this point I may set down the solemn fact 
 that Simpson "went out" with fifteen addi- 
 tional girls before he married an enormous 
 crime where two "walkings out" is considered 
 the limit. There was nothing very striking 
 about his appearance or his capabilities. He 
 appeared to take a life-and-death interest in 
 everybody, had a large amount of vitality and 
 energy, shared the family business talent which 
 had made his parents the most wealthy persons 
 in a poor locality, talked much of love and 
 affection, although I doubt if, in the highest 
 sense, he was capable of it. He was only fond 
 of himself and me. It does not take much 
 to know if a person is fond of one or not, 
 especially if one happens to be an extremely 
 sensitive boy, whose whole existence has been 
 loveless and unaccompanied by affection yet, 
 on account of its former absence, heedless if it 
 were now given. Such a boy was I, and Simp- 
 son was fond of me. We often met whilst run- 
 ning errands, after work-hours, at odd moments 
 on Saturday afternoons and Sundays, Fate or 
 Providence seemed to be throwing us together
 
 BORLAND STREET CHAPEL 151 
 
 continually, and Dorland Street Chapel was the 
 uppermost subject of conversation. He always 
 said, "Why Hon't you come?" after speaking 
 of the chapel, and I always declined. But 
 Providence was stronger than I, for one Sunday 
 night I went alone to Dorland Street Chapel, 
 not intending to join, or regularly attend, but 
 solely with the object of returning a little con- 
 juring book I had borrowed from Simpson. 
 
 That was probably the most important step 
 I ever took in my life.
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 THE 'INNER SOCIAL CIRCLE' 
 
 BORLAND STREET CHAPEL presented a some- 
 what forbidding appearance to the stranger, 
 for it was enclosed by iron railings the spikes 
 of which stood up like the bayonets of a square 
 of soldiers. It was not very far from Morocco 
 Street, although not in the immediate neigh- 
 bourhood, so that I was an entire stranger to all 
 the attenHers, except Simpson. Under his aegis 
 I was introduced to several members, and up to 
 a certain point became fairly familiar with the 
 place and people. I soon felt, however, that 
 there was a barrier of some sort to prevent our 
 getting more intimate socially with most of the 
 other frequenters of the place. 
 
 The chapel was of the mission-hall variety 
 informal in its services, yet rigid in its laws of 
 
 conduct. 
 
 152
 
 THE 'INNER SOCIAL CIRCLE' 158 
 
 The ideas and 'dogmas of Baptism, of cere- 
 monial Holy Communion, were regarded with 
 a superior smile as one might regard fantastic 
 heathen rites. 
 
 The great dogma held by the Dorlanders 
 was that the Bible was inspired from cover to 
 cover, was literally true, and inviolable. If 
 one saw passages commending Baptism, etc., 
 other mystic passages would be shown invali- 
 dating them, or else the original statement 
 would be distorted so as to mean anything. 
 The attenHer's chief business was to get him- 
 self " converted," to attain which en'd somewhat 
 hysterical mission services were held for a fort- 
 night in each year. Until one became " saved," 
 admission to the inner social circle appeared to 
 be denied. 
 
 Simpson and I found this out at about the 
 same time, and secretly won'dered (at least I 
 did) why we were so wicked as to pass un- 
 scathed through the most hysterical services, 
 almost unmoved by the appeals to cast all our 
 sins from us. 
 
 I was not aware of any vicious habits or
 
 154 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 conscious sin, but the preacher had said we were 
 all masses of corruption until we were " saved," 
 and we believed him. Some of our young 
 fellow-attenders announced their " conversion," 
 without apparently altering their manners or 
 their ways, except that they were taken up by 
 our " Society." Others left, after being unsuc- 
 cessfully preached at for a year or two. 
 
 With such a sharp annual division between 
 the sheep and the goats, it is not to be won- 
 clered at that most of the younger converts 
 were just a little hypocritical, and felt them- 
 selves to be (so, although they held it was 
 necessary if you didn't feel very "religious," 
 to pretend you were, for it helped you to 
 become better, or at least prevented a return 
 to less desirable social connections. 
 
 I often thought of the remarkable social 
 gradations in a small place like the chapel, as 
 I sat in the library of the Webbe Institute. I 
 had resigned from the cadet corps, and only 
 remained attached to the club ; in the library of 
 which I spent much of my spare time. 
 
 I made a determined onslaught upon the
 
 THE 'INNER SOCIAL CIRCLE' 155 
 
 library, an'd read, I believe, every interesting 
 book it contained, from the 'Boys 1 Own Paper 
 to Thackeray, and the Waverley 'Novels to 
 George Eliot. Most of the longer books I took 
 home to read, storing them in strange places, 
 out of the destructive children's way. 
 
 I often sat far into the night perche'd upon 
 a disguise'd orange-box, reading the wonderful 
 novels of Dickens or George Eliot by the eye- 
 straining light of a wretched evil-smelling tin 
 oil-lamp. Far below me, in the yar'ds beneath, 
 a costermonger's donkey would bray now anH 
 again, oaths and drunken quarrels fill the morn- 
 ing air with verbal pollution. My mother's 
 voice would ask me through the thin wooden 
 partition which divided the rooms "if I was 
 going to stop up all night?" Whereupon I 
 would close my book, turn my sleeping brothers 
 about until a space was made for myself in 
 the overcrowded bed, and at last fall asleep, 
 dreaming of those brighter days I hoped to 
 see. 
 
 Then in the morning I went off to Batty's to 
 run errands and shape wood, and so life
 
 156 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 went on, between his shop, the club, and the 
 chapel. 
 
 Batty had gradually imposed work upon me 
 that a grown man would consider laborious. 
 But he over-reached himself one Saturday 
 morning by piling up seven sacks of firewood 
 upon a hand-barrow, and tying a pail of liquid 
 manure for his garden upon the rails at the 
 back. 
 
 " I can't manage all that," I remonstrated. 
 
 " Gorn ! gorn ! I don't want any of your 
 ' lip,' " he retorted. " Get a move on you." 
 
 " Look here, guv'nor," I shouted to his re- 
 treating form, " I 'don't mind doing a boy's 
 work, but I can't do a man's; I'll be blowed if 
 I take this lot home." 
 
 He went up the stairs without a word, and 
 returnee! with an extra half sack of wood, which 
 he placed near the front of the barrow and told 
 me it would make the load easier as it would 
 balance the manure better. 
 
 When he went up-stairs again I untied the 
 manure, also took off two sacks of firewood, 
 and left them in the passage; then, with the
 
 THE 'INNER SOCIAL CIRCLE' 157 
 
 remaining five and a half sacks, I quickly 
 pushed the barrow out of the street and to his 
 home. I got a week's notice to leave, with my 
 wages, later in the day. 
 
 I had worked at that shop for nearly three 
 years, and felt somewhat disgraced at " getting 
 the sack," although I was able to get a job 
 during my last week, to start the following 
 Monday morning, at Ashley Brothers', special- 
 ists in oak furniture. 
 
 My new employers were sharp young men 
 with plenty of " side " and a good deal of 
 ability, though not much capital. I should 
 think twenty pounds would have bought them 
 out. 
 
 They were brisk in their business methods, 
 talked a good deal about " efficiency " and 
 " system," and got every ounce of work out of 
 one that was legitimately possible. Their hours 
 were from eight in the morning until eight at 
 night, hard slogging work all the time. 
 
 I was now an " improver," and ran no 
 errands. I got fifteen shillings a week, out of 
 which I gave my mother ten shillings, so I
 
 could now buy my clothes and save a little 
 without much sacrifice. 
 
 I soon found that Simpson had not pene- 
 trated the " Inner Circle " at the chapel, in 
 spite of his sympathies and insinuating ways. 
 He was only on familiar terms with other " out- 
 siders," and sighed as deeply as any one for 
 the recognition of the Elect. 
 
 One Sunday night he told me in a most 
 matter-of-fact tone that he was about to be 
 converted. I was greatly surprised. In my 
 innocence I imagined one only became con- 
 verted after much wrestling with strange pas- 
 sions and sins, finally giving up the care of 
 one's soul to its sublime Creator. A convert, I 
 thought, should bear the marks of his great 
 struggle. Yet here was Simpson talking as 
 if being converted was like going for a 
 walk ! It gave me rather a shock, and opened 
 my eyes to the hypocrisy of much of this 
 " conversion." 
 
 About half-an-hour later I went back to see 
 how he was getting along. 
 
 I searched about but could not see him, so I
 
 THE 'INNER SOCIAL CIRCLE' 159 
 
 asked the caretaker of his whereabouts. Now 
 the caretaker was most zealous in his attempts 
 to win converts, so in helping me to find Simp- 
 son he thought he would also help me to find 
 Heaven, as he afterwards told me. 
 
 I was taken to a room, the door of which was 
 slightly ajar. 
 
 "E's in there," the caretaker whispered. 
 
 I listened for a moment or two, but could 
 hear no sound of voices. " I don't hear 
 anything," I said. "Are you sure he's in 
 there?" 
 
 " Course 'e's in there," he replied. " Have 
 a look yourself." 
 
 I again listened, but could hear no sound. I 
 laid my hand on the door, intending to peep 
 inside, but at this instant received a push which 
 sent me right into the room; the door was closed 
 behind me, and I found myself with Simpson 
 and the missioner, both kneeling in silent 
 prayer. 
 
 I hardly liked to disturb their meditations 
 again by rushing out of the room, although my 
 impulse was to do so. 
 
 \
 
 The missioner beckoned me to kneel by the 
 side of Simpson. 
 
 _For a moment I struggled with the thought 
 that I was in a false position through the care- 
 taker's agency; I felt angry, too, that people 
 should trick me into being " saved." 
 
 Then I foresaw, and feared, the awkward 
 situation that would be created if I should 
 stalk from the room. Borland opinion would be 
 so strong that connections which were fast be- 
 coming permanent, and social influences which 
 were becoming necessary to my development, 
 would be strained and eventually severed. 
 
 I knelt as I was bidden, and in the silent 
 prayer that again ensued I asked God to for- 
 give me if I was hypocritical in not feeling any 
 elation of soul, nor any profound conviction 
 that I was a miserable sinner. 
 
 A few minutes later I was assured with 
 Simpson that I was "saved," our names and 
 addresses were written down in a small pocket- 
 book. 
 
 We left the room. 
 
 Simpson explained volubly that he had
 
 THE 'INNER SOCIAL CIRCLE' 161 
 
 wanted to be converted for quite a long time 
 back. 
 
 I was silent for the rest of the evening, 
 ashamed. 
 
 Henceforth we were fit to mingle with the 
 Elect. 
 
 M
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 A YOUNG LADY 
 
 MY new employers rapidly gained my 
 admiration. They were so smart, so confident ; 
 even their stock remark, " .We're not running a 
 charitable institution," seemed rather admirable 
 it was war, and war was business. 
 
 During work-hours they sang those songs 
 that make one work harder, they purposely 
 avoided any others. Or, after reading the 
 Daily Mail (a halfpenny morning paper was 
 then still a novelty) they would pass naturally 
 enough from praise of Harmsworths' enterprise, 
 to praise of themselves. 
 
 " Harmsworths and us, we're the people to 
 make the world go round," they would tell each 
 other. " No flies on us." 
 
 In spite of their pushfulness, however, the 
 world didn't always go roun'd their way. 
 
 Orders for special work were often conspicu- 
 
 162
 
 A YOUNG LADY 163 
 
 ously absent, so that we often had to shut up 
 the shop and go out upon the "buzz" with 
 work made up on speculation. 
 
 The operation of "buzzing" consists of 
 placing upon a barrow several articles of 
 furniture, and taking them from one wholesale 
 shop to another in the endeavour to effect a 
 sale. Many East Enders work during the week 
 and buzz about on Saturday afternoon, with 
 disastrous results : they must either take a 
 ridiculous price for their work, or go without 
 Sunday's dinner. Consequently the buying- 
 prices fall to impossible limits, as the prices 
 given on a Saturday are gradually extended to 
 the week, and the buyer declines to pay more 
 at any time. 
 
 Ashley Brothers were wise in their buzzing. 
 They went out on a Monday or Wednesday, 
 never on a Saturday, and although Fortune 
 was as fickle to them as to most, it is greatly to 
 their credit that they always paid our wages at 
 one o'clock on Saturdays. Most of the other 
 employers in the vicinity kept their men hang- 
 ing about the premises until as late as seven 
 
 M 2
 
 164 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 o'clock at night for their money, and every 
 now an'd then would have a " dirge " when no 
 money was available; and so men who had 
 sweated all the week took home nothing but 
 despair for their recompense a state of things 
 which still continues in little shops. 
 
 I often talked of these things to a young 
 man named Howton, whose acquaintance I had 
 recently made at Borland Street Chapel; he 
 was not so fortunate as I, having experienced 
 several "dirges" (during his few industrial 
 years. 
 
 I was now nearly sixteen years of age, and 
 destined soon to begin my acquaintance with 
 the other sex. Without any desire to pose as a 
 saint, or any tendency to being goody-goody, I 
 have to record that I was absolutely without 
 blemish so far as purity was concerned, and 
 that woman inspired nothing but reverence and 
 homage in my nature. The muttered and 
 occasionally blasphemous utterances of work- 
 mates, and some fellow-members of the 
 Webbe, that I heard continually, conveyed 
 nothing to my mind. To be quite candid, I
 
 A YOUNG LADY 165 
 
 did inquire once or twice what was meant, 
 whereupon the other boys stared, then laughed, 
 and finally said, "You're a deep 'un, you 
 are ! " 
 
 I was almost too shy to keep with' Simpson 
 during his amorous interludes. I wondered 
 why some of these fellows got along so well 
 with girls, and inspired such evident affection. 
 What was wrong with me? The question 
 worried me, I worried other people for details 
 as to how they first got to know their wives or 
 husbands. Then I deliberately went and fell 
 in love with Bessie Brown. 
 
 I use the term " deliberate " because I studied 
 the look and appearance of every girl present 
 as I sat in chapel one Sunday evening, and 
 decided that she was the most desirable of 
 them all, and the prettiest. I remember how I 
 calmly considered every girl's "points" in 
 turn, and how I finally decided to " go in " for 
 her. 
 
 Of course Simpson's advice was indispens- 
 able. " If you knew a girl," I inquired tenta- 
 tively, " and you liked her very much, and you
 
 had never even spoken to her, how would you 
 get to go out with her ? " 
 
 "There's no girl at Borland Street Chapel 
 that I've not spoken to," he said. " What ! are 
 you after some one ? " 
 
 I paused. 
 
 "Tell us!" he entreated. "Tell us, and 
 I'll help you. Is it Daisy Jones no? Then 
 it's Millie Smith; no? Is it er ?" 
 
 " It's no use," I expostulated, " I only want 
 to know how you get along with the girls so 
 well." 
 
 " Well, who have you got your eyes on ? " 
 
 " You, at present." 
 
 " Ah ! you're after some one and you won't 
 tell me; is it Bessie Brown?" 
 
 I remained silent. 
 
 " Fancy Bessie Brown ! Bit stuck-up, I 
 think." 
 
 " Have you ever spoken to her?" I inquired. 
 
 " Said good-night to her once," he remem- 
 bered triumphantly. Then he began to plan 
 the introduction. " You stand by the door, and 
 when she comes along I'll shake hands with
 
 A YOUNG LADY 167 
 
 her, and then as she passes me you Hold your 
 hand out, she'll shake hands with you, and the 
 ice is broke, see? Only mincl, I tell you 
 straight, I believe she's stuck-up." 
 
 We waited at the door; at last Simpson whis- 
 pered, " She's coming, hold your hand out." 
 I did ; held my hand out for five minutes, then 
 Simpson announced that a mistake had been 
 made it was somebody else. 
 
 A quarter of an hour elapsed. " I believe 
 that's her," he whispered hopefully. " Hold 
 your hand out." 
 
 " Think I'm a fool ? " I said indignantly ; 
 "when she comes I'll shake hands, but I'm not 
 going to hold my hand out all night like a 
 policeman on point duty." 
 
 "All right," he replied, "keep your 'air 
 
 on." 
 
 ,We waited long and patiently, but she did 
 not come that evening, and as each successive 
 minute of waiting had increased my nervous- 
 ness and raised my desire, I went home, firmly 
 and fixedly in love. 
 
 It seized me like a fever, every thought was
 
 168 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 jumbled up with visions of Bessie. I passed 
 her house five or six times every evening, hop- 
 ing to see her, living for a whole week upon 
 the remembrance of her face as she stood 
 buying the family supper of fried fish in the 
 local shop. 
 
 I shook hands with her at last, my voice 
 failing to utter the conventional greeting that 
 was on my lips as I did so. Alas ! she had 
 her head turned away upon this auspicious 
 occasion the sweet memory of the hand clasp 
 was tinged with the bitter doubt : Was she too 
 stuck-up to look at me? 
 
 I found that by going to meet Simpson every 
 morning I could see my divinity on her way 
 to work, consequently I was out a full half-hour 
 before time every morning. 
 
 The house we were living in was a mysteri- 
 ous place, being let by the landlord in separate 
 tenements, so that nobody knew exactly who 
 did live there. The street door was never 
 fastened either by day or night ; whilst the door 
 of the yard (which abutted on the rear of 
 Turkey Lane, the haunt of crime and squalor,
 
 A YOUNG LADY 169 
 
 thieves and donkeys) was only closed accord- 
 ing to individual caprice or nervousness. At 
 about one o'clock in the morning, on one event- 
 ful occasion, a terrific banging was heard in the 
 lower part of the premises, loud voices were 
 engaged apparently in dispute, whilst loud 
 shuffling noises continued for quite a long 
 time. 
 
 I got out of bed to inform my father, who 
 was already sitting up in his bed listening. 
 
 " What on earth's that ? " I queried, as the 
 sound of another bang floated heavenward. 
 
 " Some of them," he indicated the alley with 
 a nod " some of them riff-raff, I suppose." 
 
 Hastily slipping on some clothing we crept 
 down to the next floor and looked over the 
 banisters to the landing below. The little 
 penny lamp we kept on the stairs for our guid- 
 ance was feebly alight. 
 
 "Look at that!" I whispered; "I turned 
 that lamp out when I came in." 
 
 The noises had ceased, and we were about 
 to search the lower part of the house when a 
 hand appeared from the gloom into the small
 
 170 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 circle of light and 'disappeared with the lamp. 
 Stealthy footsteps were again heard. 
 
 " Better get up again," my father counselled ; 
 "they'd as lief murder us as not." So we 
 crept back up the stairs again, and barricaded 
 the doors with chairs. 
 
 In the morning the yard Hoor was seen to 
 be off its hinges, whilst an inner door had the 
 whole of its panelling smashed in. Various 
 trumpery articles were strewn about the yard 
 indicating the route of departure taken by the 
 burglars. 
 
 The value of the goods stolen was two shil- 
 lings and fourpence and for that they had 
 been prepared to commit murder. I was 
 ashamed to be seen entering or leaving such a 
 house, especially as many Dorlanders (includ- 
 ing Bessie Brown) passed it on their way to 
 business. I maintained a close reticence about 
 my address and people to most of them, for had 
 I told I should have been 'despised, and I was 
 not yet strong enough to endure that.
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 MY UNLOVED FRIEND 
 
 MY parents were surprised one evening when 
 I announced my intention of remaining indoors, 
 and pulled from my pocket some sheets of 
 writing-paper and a pencil. 
 
 " What's the game ? " I heard somebody 
 inquire. 
 
 "Writin' to his gal," a younger brother 
 supposed. 
 
 "What are you stopping in for?," aske'd my 
 mother. 
 
 " Nothing," I replied ; " only I am going to 
 write a paper." 
 
 "Write a what? a paper? What kind of 
 paper noospaper? " 
 
 " No," I replied, " only a paper, a short 
 article like." 
 
 " And what's it about? " 
 
 " Oh, about Daniel in the den of lions." 
 171
 
 172 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 Audible sniffs greeted this statement, my 
 facetious younger brother interpolating the 
 remark 
 
 " Got the religious mania, I s'pose." 
 
 " And what are you going to do with it when 
 it's written ? " continued my mother. 
 
 " Reacl it to some more fellows like myself," 
 I explained. 
 
 ' You're a blankety dashed fine fellow to 
 read papers on Daniel to people. Where are 
 you going to read it ? " 
 
 " Oh, some place I go to." 
 
 " O oh ! I wondered where you got 
 to a- Sundays. And what might that place 
 be?" 
 
 " Dorland Street Chapel." 
 
 My brother mimicked the gait of an imagin- 
 ary Dorlander, raising derisive laughter by his 
 antics. A storm of ridicule and mockery then 
 ensued, in which I clouted my younger 
 brother's ear, and received the same from my 
 mother. 
 
 It was impossible to continue writing so I 
 packed my materials and went out until at
 
 MY UNLOVED FRIEND 173 
 
 about eleven o'clock that night when the others 
 were asleep. I sat up on the old disguised 
 orange-box, and wrote to my heart's content; 
 the stillness of the night being only broken by 
 the sirens on the river, the echoes of Big Ben, 
 and the braying of the inevitable donkey. 
 
 On the Sunday following I read my paper. 
 Happily it was well received, and even praised ; 
 the secretary of the small class being particu- 
 larly loud in his praises. When the class dis- 
 persed, he invited me to walk to the Park with 
 him. I accepted his invitation; so, after un- 
 hooking his stick from a hat-peg, we journeyed 
 toward the Sunday morning Mecca of the 
 church-going East Ender. 
 
 Mr, Harold Vange was a few years my 
 senior, and until this particular morning had 
 been almost a stranger to me. 
 
 I took the opportunity to study him. He 
 also took the opportunity to study me. He was 
 a tall, spare young man, of somewhat effemi- 
 nate appearance, of pale complexion and drawn 
 face. The only bright note about his generally 
 drab appearance was provided by his eyes,
 
 174 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 which seemed black and piercing. He swung 
 his walking-stick in a measured sort of fashion 
 which irritated me, and shrugged his spare 
 frame convulsively when agitateH or animated 
 by conversation. 
 
 He was alive with enthusiasm for " the cause 
 of the young men," it was in every act and 
 word. 
 
 I was a suspicious youth in whom a large 
 amount of my father's philosophy of life was 
 preserved. 
 
 " Nobody'll ever help you in life, so learn 
 to help y'rself," was one of his axioms. 
 
 " Be independent and honest, because you 
 can never lose much if you've always stood 
 alone, and Honesty's the best Policy." 
 
 " Don't be humble, because everybody'll 
 make a door-mat of you if you are," were 
 others, all at this time firmly ingraine'd in my 
 nature. 
 
 Vange and I had Been walking along and 
 chatting about books and opinions for some 
 time, when he became more intimate, and 
 asked me about my friends.
 
 MY UNLOVED FRIEND 175 
 
 "Got none," I replied, "and what's more, 
 I 'don't particularly want any." 
 
 "Friendship," he said, "is the most divine 
 union on earth. No man liveth unto himself. 
 Friendship brings out the best in a man." 
 
 I accepted his view of friendship because I 
 had read something like it in books, but it was 
 foreign to my experience. I told him so, and 
 illustrated my ideas by telling him something 
 of "friendship" as I had seen it in Morocco 
 Street. 
 
 " If that's friendship," I concluded, " I want 
 to be without friends." 
 
 He pleaded the cause of friendship, pointe'd 
 out how much we depended upon each other 
 in life, and how barren life was without love. 
 
 " Love between two fellows," I half ex- 
 claimed ; " why, it's silly ! " 
 
 Vange's spare frame quivered and shook as 
 he explained " the greatest thing in the world " 
 love, unfolding a whole new world to me. 
 
 I knew myself for a love-starved, unrespon- 
 sive, slum child; I felt he was right; but that 
 walking-stick of his got upon my nerves, those
 
 176 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 convulsions of his shoulders, his whole drab- 
 coloured effeminate personality sickened me, 
 so that I was inclined to discount his words 
 accordingly. 
 
 By what appeared to be a chain of rather 
 remarkable accidents I found myself in 
 Vange's company very nearly every evening 
 after this. The conversation that passed be- 
 tween us was most attractive to me. Opinions 
 about books, authors, ideas, and religion were 
 the subject of most of our discussions. I 
 had strong prejudices, and almost primitive 
 methods of expressing them, whilst Vange was 
 more mature and polished, knew more of a 
 fuller life than myself; and by the incessant 
 grinding of his opinion upon my opinion, his 
 thought upon my prejudice, wore down many 
 of my jagged edges, and shaped me into the 
 image of an ordinary sort of middle-class 
 youth. 
 
 I was soon convinced that I had hitherto 
 missed that great gift of God a friend. 
 Vange protested his friendship towards me 
 over-much, so that I was torn between physical
 
 MY UNLOVED FRIEND 177 
 
 dislike and mental affinity. I liked his ideas, 
 his friendship; would that they had been allied 
 to a different personality ! 
 
 I read and thought much about friendship. 
 I could not refuse the gift of a friend. I 
 deemed it to be so rarely offered to a man, 
 that in the words of Polonius I must "grapple 
 him to my heart with hooks of steel." Why 
 couldn't I love him in return? I passionately 
 inquired of myself, and I constantly reproached 
 my personal prejudices, but it was of no 
 avail. I desired friendship, I was anxious to 
 be befriended, but I did not like my friend. 
 
 In the midst of a most engrossing conversa- 
 tion, whilst threading my way through some 
 subtle argument, I would notice with horror 
 his writhes and gestures, and would have to be 
 dumb for hours afterwards, pretending to be 
 absent-minded, or else lost in the intricacies of 
 my own beautiful phrases, because I could not 
 hurt his feelings wittingly. 
 
 I left the Webbe Institute at this time, be- 
 cause it had quite outgrown its usefulness to 
 me, although not without some pang, for I had 
 
 N
 
 178 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 gained little but good from my association 
 with the club, whilst the slight acquaintance I 
 had made with Oxford undergraduates had 
 meant a great deal by permeating my thought 
 with different standards of life and living. 
 
 Vange lived in a select corner of the East 
 End, in a place where trees actually grew be- 
 fore and behind the houses, where overcrowd- 
 ing was unknown, and " top-hats " the rule on 
 Sunday. I visited his people very often, saw 
 the happy home life they led, admired, and 
 perhaps envied a little, the snug little room he 
 had to himself. 
 
 After much persuasion I told him fragments 
 of my home life of how we slept wedgewise 
 in the bed, and some of the incidents in my 
 early life. He was most sympathetic, and 
 wondered why I "stuck" it. 
 
 ' They're always telling me I can go," I 
 used to reply. " If I dare to suggest it's un- 
 healthy they talk about ingratitude, say I'm 
 'gallows-bred,' and things like that. I often 
 feel like going, but they can't really get on 
 without my wages, so how can I leave them ? "
 
 MY UNLOVED FRIEND 179 
 
 "Why should you ruin your life for them?" 
 he would retort. " Because they have made a 
 failure of their lives, why ruin your own pros- 
 pects and your health for their idea of gratitude 
 and filial devotion, which is most selfish and 
 one-sided ?. " 
 
 My wages at this time formed a large item 
 in the family income. I was now earning four- 
 pence-halfpenny an hour, having left Ashley 
 Brothers in answer to an advertisement offering 
 a higher salary; then leaving that situation for 
 a higher wage still. 
 
 My love for Bessie was as great as ever and 
 as remote as ever, although we had conversed 
 in monosyllables. 
 
 N2
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 DISILLUSION AND A ' NORATION ' 
 
 THE Chapel's " Christian Endeavour " 
 Society arranged a Saturday afternoon outing 
 to Theydon Bois, a beautiful village near 
 Epping Forest. 
 
 The great event was duly heralded and 
 discussed among the young people, Simpson 
 being especially full of the particulars. 
 
 " Me an' my girl's going," he assured me. 
 " It's going to be a rare treat, y'know, walk 
 arm-in-arm through the Forest, and all sing 
 hymns a-coming home; it's all right, I can 
 tell you." 
 
 " Oh ! I am not going to miss it," I replied ; 
 " I like outings like that." 
 
 "So do I," he continued. "You'll be all 
 right, y'know; Bessie Brown'll be there too 
 I know that for a fact, because I heard her tell 
 Mrs. Pebbles that she'd be ready when Mrs. 
 
 Pebbles called for her." 
 
 1 80
 
 DISILLUSION & A 'NORATION' 181 
 
 I thanked Simpson for the information 
 and decided mentally to put my fortune to 
 the test, and propose, if the opportunity 
 occurred. 
 
 The beautiful Forest was at its best when 
 our party finally met upon its fringe wooded 
 glades leading the vision toward stretches of 
 green vales, innumerable birds singing in the 
 thickets, hedgerows scented and crowned by 
 honeysuckle. 
 
 For a time we were silenced by the beauty 
 around us, then with shout and laugh we 
 scampered through the woods, finding many a 
 strange thing, and revelling in our unwonted 
 elbow room. 
 
 ,We sat down to tea, a happy jovial feast in 
 a disused barn. 
 
 I sat among a little group of " unattached " 
 young men, with Howton upon my right and 
 one Robert Mumford to my left. 
 
 Howton, poor chap, was out of work. " Got 
 the blessed hump ! " he said. " When you 
 have got work it's slavery, and you're not sure 
 of your wages; and when you've got none
 
 182 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 nobody wants you look down upon you as a 
 rogue, in fact." 
 
 I sympathized with him vocally, but in my 
 heart I thought he must be rather a duffer. 
 I had never been out of work myself, and with- 
 out that salutary experience most people are 
 quite incapable of really understanding what 
 being out of work is like. I certainly put it 
 down then to some incapacity on his part, and 
 merely murmured polite sympathy. The other 
 listener, MumforH, was frankly contemptuous 
 of an out-of-work, and proceeded in a curiously 
 complacent and self-satisfied way to extol his 
 own virtues, and to prove to his own satisfac- 
 tion that he himself could never be out of 
 employment. 
 
 I left Mumford and Howton arguing hotly, 
 whilst I went out after tea to look about for 
 Miss Brown, and eventually found her alone. 
 
 My heart beat very rapidly as I spoke, with 
 an ill-assumed nonchalance, upon several 
 topics. She returned monosyllabic answers 
 without embarrassment, but apparently by rote, 
 with all the mechanical sayings of the most
 
 DISILLUSION & A NORATION ' 183 
 
 ordinary East End girl. A fearful thought 
 struck me.: Was this person only a goddess 
 of my own creation ? Was this the girl I loved, 
 or did I love some imagined creature with a 
 similar face and name? Had I endowed a 
 pleasing face and form with non-existent 
 virtues and graces? The faltering proposal 
 on my lips remained inarticulate; what if I 
 were making a mistake? A silence fell be- 
 tween us; Mrs. Pebbles rushed up and hastened 
 Bessie away. 
 
 I plunged into the Forest, and, with the 
 switch I cut, lashed out right and left, cleaving 
 my way through the tangled undergrowth 
 absent-mindedly. 
 
 I had fallen in love at first sight, I told 
 myself, and had fallen out at the second. In 
 that walk through the Forest I discovered that 
 I had been in love with Ideal Womanhood 
 rather than with Bessie Brown. 
 
 I had personified my ideal, and was shocked 
 to find my divinity, on close inspection, no- 
 thing more than a very ordinary, rather pretty, 
 shallow-brained girl.
 
 184 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 Little incidents anH trivial remarks I had 
 previously disregarded now occurred to my 
 memory confirming my judgment. It was my 
 first great disillusion; I beat my switch upon 
 the tree-trunks, and lopped off the branches 
 of blackberry bushes with renewed energy as 
 I retraced my steps. 
 
 " Want to knock my eye out ? " somebody 
 said. 
 
 It was Mumford. 
 
 I passed on with apologies. 
 
 " I say ! " he shouted after me, " I should 
 like to have a word with you." 
 
 "What do you want?" I inquired. 
 
 " Oh ! come this way," replied he. 
 
 When we were clear of the other members 
 of the party, he resumed 
 
 " Didn't I see you talking to Bessie Brown 
 just now? " 
 
 "What's it to do with you?" I retorted 
 hotly. 
 
 " Don't get excited, I don't mind," he re- 
 plied. " Now I want to know what sort of girl 
 she is do you want to go out with her ? "
 
 DISILLUSION & A NORATION ' 185 
 
 I paused a moment. " No," I finally said, 
 with emphasis. 
 
 " Well, if she's all right, I 'don't mind having 
 her," Mumford said condescendingly. "Only 
 I wanted to make sure." 
 
 " And supposing she won't have you ? " I 
 interposed. 
 
 "Oh, don't worry about that," he replied. 
 " I've only got to give the word and I could 
 get any girl at Borland Street Chapel I liked." 
 
 At this juncture Howton reappeared, and I 
 spent the rest of the evening with him. 
 
 At the Sunday evening meeting Mumford 
 sat with Miss Brown, and exhibited all the 
 proprietary signs of the "attached" young 
 man. 
 
 He nodded affably to me as we rose to sing 
 a hymn, a nod of conscious greatness, which 
 plainly said, "As you see, I came, I saw, I 
 conquered." 
 
 The man I was now working for was fast 
 losing his trade. Orders became very scarce, 
 so in order to avoid poor Howton's fate I
 
 186 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 looked round one Monday morning that is to 
 say, I inspected various ironmongers' shops to 
 see if any bill-heads were displayed announc- 
 ing that a " Chap " was wanted. The grades 
 are 'distinct : first one is a " Boy," then a 
 "Lad," after that a "Chap," and finally a 
 " Maker." 
 
 A bill was being stuck upon the window just 
 as I reached one shop, so I rushed off imme- 
 diately to the address given, applied for the 
 job", and succeeded, at fivepence per hour. 
 With jubilation I returned and packed up my 
 tools, said good-bye to my shopmates, and 
 began to carry the tools to my new shop. 
 
 On my way I met Howton. " Hullo ! " he 
 said glumly. "Of course you've got that job 
 at Stratford's?" 
 
 'Yes; how did you know?" I inquired. 
 
 " Oh, I dunno, you always seem to be on 
 the spot," he replied ; " I got there and was 
 told they were suited, I knew it was you." 
 
 I really felt very sorry to have spoilt his 
 chance, but I thought of Ashley Brothers' 
 motto : " Business is War." I remembered,
 
 DISILLUSION & A 'NORATION' 187 
 
 besides, that I had "packed up," there could 
 be no going back. 
 
 Howton soon got work again, and suggested 
 that we should both leave home and take a 
 room together; but I could not leave my people 
 while it was at all possible to remain. I knew 
 they depended on my wages, although they 
 often told me to go, and said they lost money 
 over me this, though I contributed almost as 
 much as my father. 
 
 I had a Sunday suit, which was always 
 pawned by my mother on Monday morning 
 and redeemed on Saturday night. Several 
 times I had to advance the money they were 
 " in " for, that I might wear them the next day. 
 
 The money-lender to whom my mother was 
 deeply in debt came round one day, and 
 created a " Noration," as the natives call it. 
 She bustled up to the door and knocked two 
 or three dozen times, then she screamed up the 
 stairs 
 
 " Come down you ! Call yerself a respect- 
 able 'ard-working woman and you go on owing 
 me three pounds odd ? "
 
 188 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 A large crowd gathered, eager to catch every 
 detail. With great difficulty I restrained my 
 mother from going down, and went down the 
 stairs myself to meet the howling virago. 
 
 "Look here, Mrs. Short," I said, "if you 
 don't shut your row and clear out of it, I'll 
 fetch a policeman and lock you up." 
 
 "Where's my three pounds odd?" she 
 raved. 
 
 " You've had over five pounds already," I 
 said, "what with repayments and interest; 
 besides, you're not licensed." 
 
 I had drawn a bow at a venture, but it had 
 hit the mark. She ceased to rave immediately, 
 and left us in peace a few minutes later. So 
 far as I know she never troubled us again. 
 
 o 
 
 Such people are truly land-sharks whose 
 teeth a wise community must draw, or else 
 muzzle by limiting the rate of interest, and by 
 registration and licence. Once they get a hold 
 upon a family nothing but a sudden accession 
 of fortune can ever extricate them unless they 
 are prepared to risk a " Noration," and possibly 
 the ordeal of battle.
 
 DISILLUSION & A 'NORATION' 189 
 
 At the other end of the street affairs were 
 still very much the same as ever. Mrs. Jordan 
 was still maintaining her family by means of 
 " The Little Wonder," although several cob- 
 blers had been employed in succession since 
 the days of " Old Bill." The Potters and the 
 Timminses still competed for the honours of 
 respectability; their children were by this time 
 all out to work, and so assisted their parents 
 with wages and ambitions of their own. 
 
 And yet changes had taken place : Mrs. 
 Dartmouth and her gouty husband were dead, 
 the house they occupied as direct tenants be- 
 ing now let to Jews; the Cohens had departed, 
 and were replaced by others with unpronounce- 
 able names ; and so, by little changes, the wheel 
 of life altered the outlook of the fresh genera- 
 tion who were singing our old songs and play- 
 ing our discarded games.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 EQUIPPED as I am at this moment of writing 
 with fuller experience, with a certain tranquil 
 philosophy of life, with a few of the earthly 
 things I dreamed of and hoped for in my 
 earlier days equipped as I am, I wonder why 
 I remained with my people for so long, why I 
 hesitated to take the severing step. Why did 
 I turn a deaf ear to all their cheap witticisms 
 at my expense? Why did I sleep with my 
 brothers' toes upon my pillow for so long? 
 Why did I not take my parents at their word, 
 and leave the home for which they said I was 
 too big?, 
 
 I can only answer : I dared not. Not that I 
 was physically afraid of the consequences, but 
 I dared not violate my firmest convictions; I 
 dared not neglect what I conceived to be my 
 
 plain duty. 
 
 190
 
 OUT OF WORK 191 
 
 My duty was one of economics, or so I was 
 persuaded. Do not revile me, dear reader, if 
 I fail to indulge in flights of rhetoric, showing 
 how unselfish and loving was my devotion, if 
 I feel I must insist upon the monetary im- 
 portance of my relationship to my parents, 
 instead of the deepest filial devotion. 
 
 I was proud of my parents in a way; they 
 had lived a hard, rough life, and still retained 
 many rough edges, with a refreshing independ- 
 ence of thought and utterance ; were real, live, 
 individuals; my mother's was a passionate 
 nature, my father's calmer, more philosophical, 
 with natural wit, yet with more of the animal 
 in his composition when really roused. 
 
 I cannot pretend that my admiration for 
 them was mixed with any sort of affection, nor 
 did they ever show the smallest spark of love 
 toward me. Rightly or wrongly I was deeply 
 dissatisfied wth my home life, and longed for 
 what I conceived to be an ideal existence 
 that of a lodger in a room tastefully furnished, 
 and all to myself. 
 
 I looked upon ideals as a succession of
 
 192 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 ladder steps, and thought that as each ideal 
 was attained, another, of a higher nature, would 
 become apparent. I asked but little of life at 
 a time, and when I got it, asked again for 
 something better, although, all the while, I 
 was very ambitious of eventual fame. 
 
 Sometimes, as was only natural, my inner- 
 most desires and longings burst into speech. 
 I suggested all sorts of wild plans for the 
 family's betterment, but the upshot was always, 
 " If you don't like our home clear out." 
 
 That, as I have .said, I dared not do, so I 
 bent my agitations into the demand for a 
 separate bed, upon the grounds of failing 
 vitality. 
 
 My mother bought a folding chair-bed for 
 a shilling; by day it was sprawled over by the 
 younger generation, by night it was expanded 
 about six inches off the floor to form my couch. 
 The torments of that bed ! Every night with 
 monotonous regularity it broke down soon after 
 I fell asleep, so that I was often glad to push 
 my brothers this way and that to lie once more 
 upon their bed, or else curl myself up in the
 
 OUT OF WORK 193 
 
 ruins of the chair-bed, and trust to tired Nature 
 to make me sleep. I did not complain, because 
 I was then reading Smiles's Self-Help in the 
 small hours of the morning, and Carlyle's 
 Sartor Resartus by day. 
 
 I fancied myself a Teufelsdrockh, perched 
 as I was on an orange-box, with revilings and 
 cursings, midnight roysterings, and the pathetic 
 cry of some over-stocked hot-potato man, all 
 rising from the darkness to feed my fancy and 
 my ambitions. My ambitions ! what high-flown 
 desires were mine at that time ! I could hardly 
 decide whether I should choose to be a second 
 Shakespeare, or a Prime Minister, or whether 
 I should be content to beat Dickens, a man I 
 place next to the Swan of Avon. 
 
 I had no doubt whatever that I could master 
 circumstances, if only I could make up my 
 mind what I should be. 
 Strange fancies of youth ! but the end is not yet. 
 
 One night a violent quarrel arose at home 
 over some petty incident or other, for which I 
 was abused and assaulted. 
 
 I am a peaceful person by nature and pos-
 
 194 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 sess a beautiful temper, because it is so fright- 
 fully bad that I have kept it down with all my 
 might since I had understanding. 
 
 I can definitely recall three, and only three, 
 occasions upon which I have really lost com- 
 mand of my temper, and this was one. I 
 stormed and raved at their execrations, met 
 their sneers with scorn and vitriolic phrases; 
 but all things have an ending; the night and 
 Self -Help rounded off this day of turmoil; 
 although for over a week my family refused to 
 speak to me in consequence of the " row." 
 
 I decided to stay no longer; come what may 
 I would leave the "nest" (facetious phrase 
 used by my parents) and try my own wings. 
 
 It was not so ordained yet, for on the follow- 
 ing Saturday I was told to " pack up " at the 
 workshop as trade was too quiet for my em- 
 ployer to keep me employed. Of course I was 
 dejected, but went out on the following Mon- 
 day morning full of the hope that something 
 would turn up. 
 
 I went the round of ironmongers' shops sev- 
 eral times that day, but not a bill was to be seen.
 
 OUT OF WORK 195 
 
 " Never mind," I thought, " to-morrow some- 
 thing must turn up." 
 
 Tuesday came, and went. I could not 
 understand it. I was fully conversant with my 
 work, was well worth my money, intelligent, 
 honest and smart, I believed, in appearance; 
 yet there was no work for me to do, although 
 my fingers fairly itched for occupation. 
 
 I tramped to the ends of London answering 
 advertisements, but they were always " suited," 
 if indeed they had ever wanted anybody. 
 
 I firmly believe that many firms advertise 
 for hands, simply to pretend they are busy. 
 
 Pleasant sport, my masters, but what of the 
 hungry, heart-broken mechanic, who knows he 
 has brains and ability, to whom you airily 
 announce that you are "suited," although he 
 was at your shop door before you arrived? 
 
 And then, when you write his address upon 
 a stray post-card, do you realize what days of 
 expectancy, with all its coming bitterness of 
 (disillusion, you are creating for him? 
 
 I grew quite despondent after Wednesday, 
 and then day by day my nerves became more 
 
 o 2
 
 196 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 tense and strained. I would read the advertise- 
 ments in the daily papers, rush to the addresses 
 indicated, and then, after receiving the usual 
 reply, " Suited," would go the round of the 
 ironmongers' shop windows, after which some 
 automatic impulse took me to the Public 
 Library, where I would sit, casually reading 
 any kind of periodical. 
 
 I had been out of work a fortnight, and was 
 growing well-nigh desperate, when a bill-head 
 advertising for a " maker " caused me to direct 
 my steps to a certain little by-street in which 
 were situated a few backyard shops. 
 
 " Morning," I said to a slatternly woman, 
 who was half-heartedly cleaning the windows; 
 "guv'nor in?" 
 
 ' Think so," she replied, shouting out 
 " Bill ! " through the passage. 
 
 " Hullo ! " said a voice, and the next in- 
 stant a man who must have been the original of 
 the Pears' Soap Tramp became visible. 
 
 " Well ? " he said, as he saw me. " Good- 
 morning, sir; what can I do for you?" 
 
 ' You want a ' maker ' ? " I queried.
 
 OUT OF WORK 197 
 
 His manner changed immediately. " Thought 
 you'd brought an order," he grumbled. " Well, 
 what can you do ? " 
 
 "Oh, most things in this line," I replied. 
 " What do you want done ? " 
 
 " I want a chap," he said, " who can make 
 right out make double-bow sideboards, and 
 do 'em quick ; what's your price ? " 
 
 I pondered a moment this man evidently 
 wanted a lot for his money, so I said, " Seven- 
 pence an hour." 
 
 " Won't get it off me," he said ; " I can get 
 a chap any day for fourpence." 
 
 " Well, you don't get me for fourpence," I 
 retorted. " No decent chap with any principle 
 would finish right out for that money." 
 
 " Oh ! your ' principle ' won't keep you," he 
 replied. 
 
 We were now getting angry. 
 
 "No," I shouted, "perhaps not; but neither 
 will your fourpence an hour." 
 
 I could see pretty clearly that I should never 
 work for this man, so I expressed myself pretty 
 freely about sweating, etc.
 
 198 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 " Go away," he raved, " or I'll give you 
 the worst licking you've had in your natural ! " 
 
 " Do what ? " I answered. " Why, you could 
 do with a lick of some sort yourself a good 
 bath wouldn't hurt you." 
 
 Matters were looking somewhat pugilistic. 
 A small crowd of encouraging loafers from a 
 neighbouring public-house were urging us to 
 ' 'Ave it out," when the slatternly woman, who 
 had been in retirement, darted out and pulled 
 her husband forcibly back into the passage 
 and slammed the door. So I retraced my steps 
 and went back to the ironmongers'. 
 
 I felt elated. This sudden gust of passion 
 had roused me, so when I saw another bill for 
 a " chap," I tore it down from the window and 
 applied for the job with confidence and a 
 springing gait. The address led me again to 
 a backyard shop, but in a different locality. 
 My knock was answered by a large-featured, 
 heavily-set young man who reminded me im- 
 mediately of Timmins Senior. 
 
 " What do you want ? " he said gruffly. 
 
 " Guv'nor about?" I inquired.
 
 OUT OF WORK 199 
 
 " Go right through ; 'e's a foreigner." 
 
 I went through into the shop and saw a 
 small man wearing an apron over his coat, and 
 peering through his spectacles at some very 
 minute pieces of wood which the most eco- 
 nomical person would have burned as too small 
 for use; a cigarette was between the fingers of 
 one hand, whilst with the other he toyed with 
 a heavy moustache. 
 
 " I saw this at Clark's," I said, showing him 
 the bill-head I had brought with me. " Do 
 you want a chap ? " 
 
 " Yes, I do," he said slowly, with a pro- 
 nounced foreign accent. " But why did you 
 took de bill down ? " 
 
 "Well," I replied, "I thought that if you 
 were suited you wouldn't want it up any longer, 
 and if you weren't suited I would be the ' chap ' 
 you were advertising for." 
 
 He lifted his head and looked me calmly in 
 the eyes for a minute or so, took a deliberate 
 puff at his cigarette, and then said, " How much 
 do you want ? " 
 
 I thought a moment : times were bad, I could
 
 200 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 not hold out much longer. " Fivepence," I 
 said. 
 
 Another calm inspection took place before 
 he said, "Well, I like you, you've got plenty 
 of cheek and I expect you're worth your 
 money, so bring your tools in and start at two 
 o'clock." 
 
 As I went through the house passage the 
 heavy young man, whose name was Stanley 
 Augustus, commonly abbreviated to Joe, 
 ceased to lean upon the front door, and said 
 in what was meant to be an impressive whis- 
 per, " 'Ow yer got on ? " 
 
 "Oh, all right," I replied. "Start at two 
 o'clock this afternoon." 
 
 ' 'Ow much yer getting ? " he added, with an 
 elephantine effort to be subtle in his manner. 
 
 I told him fivepence, there was no reason or 
 advantage in withholding the information so 
 far as I could see. 
 
 " Oh, that's all right ! " he half grunted. 
 " I get five an' 'arf ; P been here two or three 
 years, and ought to get more'n you." 
 
 I did not reply to this piece of logic, but
 
 OUT OF WORK 
 
 201 
 
 hastened off to see that my tools were in 
 proper :>rder ; then had my dinner, after which I 
 shoulde:ed my kit of tools, and at two o'clock 
 precisely donned my apron and once again 
 started wirk.
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 OUR INDUSTRIAL ' SYSTEM 
 
 STANLEY AUGUSTUS very quick'y took me 
 under his wing. Although my owi knowledge 
 of the trade was much greater than his, he 
 lost no opportunity of kindly shewing me how 
 to do things. At first I was smply amused, 
 but such patronage soon j.-des on one's 
 appetite, so I began to feel resentful at his 
 interference, especially as I jften got behind 
 with my own work in order t> help him out of 
 some difficulty. 
 
 " Joe's " duties were man\ When he was not 
 working in the shop he vas taking the work 
 home on a barrow, or ese running errands. 
 Saturday afternoon he invariably accompanied 
 the "governor," Mr. 3 inaud, to a certain 
 public-house much frequented by a cosmo- 
 politan crowd, and kn>wn as the " Duck and 
 Goslings." 
 
 " Rare doin's at ne ' Duck and Goslings ' 
 
 202
 
 OUR INDUSTRIAL 'SYSTEM' 203 
 
 larst Saturday," said Joe on the following 
 Monday morning. 
 
 "Oh!" I replied, "what was that?" 
 
 " Ah ! " he continued, " I could say some- 
 thing. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, 
 you know." 
 
 "Absence?" I inquired. "What has absence 
 to do with it ? " 
 
 " Drink a lot of absence round there," 
 he said pityingly. " Don't you know what 
 absence is ? " 
 
 "Absinthe, you mean," I corrected. 
 
 "Never 'card of it; Mr. Pinaud calls it 
 absence, an' 'e's a foreigner, so 'e ought to 
 know." Then, smacking his lips, " It's grand." 
 
 "Well, as I was a-sayin' of," he continued, 
 "there was rare doin's. The guv'nor betted 
 a man a quid that he could get the barmaid's 
 boot on his foot. So he takes off his own boot, 
 and while 'e's a-tryin' to get the other one on 
 somebody hides his'n. He couldn't get the 
 barmaid's boot on, so he lost the sovereign. 
 Then when he turns round for to put 'is own 
 on, he could see somebody had ' pinched ' it.
 
 204 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 He said to some man who was standing near 
 him, ' I'll bet you half-a-sovereign you took 
 my boot,' and of course he 'adn't, so 'e 'ad to 
 part up with thirty shillings. All took place 
 in abaht ten minutes, too." 
 
 Accustomed as I was to the grind of poverty, 
 and knowing from experience that to many 
 people thirty shillings would have seemed a 
 fortune, I said 
 
 " What a wicked waste of money ! " 
 
 My bench-mate would have none of it. 
 " Money," he replied, " is made round so as to 
 circulate, and it's public-houses that makes it 
 spin." 
 
 I agreed. " Out of the workers' hands, and 
 into the sharps' ! " 
 
 I felt rather indignant about my governor's 
 folly, especially as I considered that he made 
 his profits principally out of the labours of 
 Joe, myself, and the two girl polishers he em- 
 ployed. The personal moral I drew from the 
 story and of many other transactions equally 
 foolish, detailed to me on succeeding Monday 
 mornings, was that I must never allow my-
 
 OUR INDUSTRIAL 'SYSTEM' 205 
 
 self to go into a " pub," business considerations 
 notwithstanding, however much I was, and 
 would be, entreated, even though ostensibly 
 only to partake of lemonade. I thought that 
 if I had the strength of mind to decline to 
 enter such places I should be spared many 
 temptations and many degrading influences. 
 
 So far as the waste of money was concerned 
 (Pinaud was always a loser), I began to feel 
 as time went on that my governor was simply 
 drawing the cream off our exertions, and that 
 his profits must have been large to allow him 
 to indulge in such follies, and to maintain a 
 house in the outer suburbs to which the bar- 
 loungers of the " Duck and Goslings " 
 travelled every Sunday morning to get free 
 drinks, during prohibited hours. 
 
 When such men called at the workshop to 
 see if Pinaud was in, I adopted a curt off-hand 
 manner towards them which greatly incensed 
 Stanley Augustus, whose great ideal was to 
 pose as "hail-fellow-well-met" all round. 
 
 These people were simply plucking a goose. 
 Pinaud was astute in some directions, but an
 
 206 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 appeal to his vanity always resulted in addi- 
 tional ducks and drakes at the " Duck and 
 Goslings." " Open-hearted friend," " The 
 soul of the party," "The indispensable chair- 
 man," these were the terms which flattered 
 and ruined him. 
 
 In every respect he was the best governor I 
 had experienced. Without asking, my wages 
 were raised during the year I worked for him, 
 from fivepence to sevenpence an hour; and 
 when some frolic delayed him at the " pub " 
 on Saturday afternoons he would return late, 
 but apologetic, and would pay our wages up 
 to the very moment of waiting, although per- 
 haps we had been standing still for three hours. 
 I have never heard of another governor who 
 did the same. 
 
 Yet I often thought of starting business on 
 my own account. I knew every branch of 
 Pinaud's business by this time, and thought : 
 Surely by opening a shop and getting custom 
 for the same class of work I could also get 
 some of the business profits that Pinaud 
 lavished upon wastrels.
 
 OUR INDUSTRIAL 'SYSTEM' 207 
 
 I had ideas and drew out several designs of 
 my own, which I thought would surely help 
 on the Art movement and my own fortunes. 
 But for the moment I was unwilling to leave 
 such a good job, and so beyond drawing out 
 these designs, and various optimistic estimates 
 proving a profit of something like five pounds 
 a week, I left matters as they were. 
 
 I consulted Howton about these things, 
 however, with the result that we stood outside 
 the chapel one Sunday questioning the whole 
 system of industrialism. 
 
 " System ! " he said, " there's no system 
 about it; it's chaos." 
 
 Poor Howton ! He had suffered a " dirge " 
 upon the preceding Saturday night. His 
 governor had failed to raise money on a cheque 
 which had been issued by the buyer of his 
 furniture, knowing full well that the bank 
 would be closed before he could cash it that 
 week. Howton was very anxious about it, and 
 continued to give vent to his feelings. 
 
 " It's not the ' bloke's ' fault, you know, 
 George," he went on; "it's these big firms,
 
 208 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 they are carried on by bluff. They have about 
 a thousand pounds in cash, and work upon 
 about fifty thousand pounds' worth of stock. 
 Now what I want to know is : Who supplies 
 the other forty-nine thousand ? " 
 
 I suggested that they got the stock upon 
 "appro." 
 
 " Of course they do," he agreed. " Every- 
 thing on approbation; have goods in the shop 
 for three months : if they're sold in that time 
 well, they pay for 'em; but if they're not sold, 
 the maker is sent for and told to take them 
 away and bring some new fashions in. D'ye 
 see, they're trading on the small master's 
 capital, and he takes all the risks; and that's 
 what they call a business system ! If a maker 
 wants his money on the spot say a customer 
 has ordered a job well, he's got to allow 
 twelve per cent, off if he wants the money when 
 he delivers the goods." 
 
 " I suppose the big firms might go bankrupt 
 in the three months," I suggested. 
 
 "Why, of course," he replied; "lots of 
 furnishing firms go broke before the three
 
 OUR INDUSTRIAL 'SYSTEM' 209 
 
 months are up. Besides, why shouldn't the 
 maker have his money to use himself ? " 
 
 " It's a wretched system, and breeds vice and 
 dishonesty," I said. 
 
 " System ! " he cried indignantly, " there's no 
 system in it, unless it's a system of sharps and 
 flats, and we who make the things are the 
 flats." 
 
 In those days I fully agreed. I thought 
 everybody with money was an ogre, and every 
 poor but honest workman a victim for their 
 feasts. I now know more than I did I see the 
 whole of our industrial system as a great 
 machine that catches up all kinds and classes 
 of workers, and mangles their sense of propor- 
 tion and honesty. It is not for any class to 
 blame another, all alike come within its iron 
 cogs, and are thrown out like a stray bolt 
 whenever it slackens its infernal speed. 
 
 Howton was speaking again, echoing my 
 own thoughts as it happened. " You know, 
 George," he was saying, " I think I could do 
 business a good deal better than my governor; 
 
 he's a flat if ever there was one." 
 p
 
 210 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 I was unable to reply to this remark, for 
 Simpson hastened up at this moment, and said 
 he wanted to tell me something privately, I 
 said good-night to Howton and walked along 
 the quiet street with Simpson, who eagerly 
 asked me if I had seen Bessie Brown lately. 
 
 "Why?" I inquired. 
 
 " Parted from Mumford," he announced, 
 and then told me a somewhat curious story 
 quite in keeping with what I knew of that 
 young man. Robert Mumford had succeeded 
 in entering the Civil Service through a com- 
 petitive examination; since when, he had con- 
 tracted a swelled head and a remarkable sense 
 of his own importance. He had captured 
 Bessie Brown some little time before he 
 became violently " converted " at the annual 
 mission in connection with the chapel. For- 
 going the ordinary pleasures of life, such as a 
 mild Saturday evening concert, he gave his 
 nights up to open-air preaching or indoor 
 prayer-meetings with such assiduity that in a 
 short time he was looked upon as a sort of 
 Evan Roberts, especially by a small circle of
 
 OUR INDUSTRIAL 'SYSTEM' 211 
 
 young ladies who half worshipped him. To 
 this circle he promulgated many new command- 
 ments, and excommunicated any who dared to 
 disobey. 
 
 "One afternoon," Simpson continued, 
 "Mumford called on Mrs. Brown," Bessie's 
 mother, who also attended the chapel, "and 
 found her in the midst of the week's washing." 
 
 " ' Mrs. Brown,' he said solemnly, as if he 
 were some minor prophet, ' the Lord hath sent 
 me to hold a prayer-meeting with you.' 
 
 : ' Go on away, Robert,' she replied, not un- 
 naturally ; ' I can't stop my washing to pray 
 with you.' 
 
 ' Then,' he said, with his arm in the air, 
 ' then, Mrs. Brown, you are an ungodly woman, 
 and I cannot consent to walk out with such a 
 woman's daughter.' 
 
 " With that he left the house. Later in the 
 evening Bessie asked him the reason of his 
 coldness, to which he replied, ' You are not 
 good enough for me, Miss Brown; it is not 
 your fault, but your mother is an ungodly 
 woman, so we must part." 
 
 p 2
 
 212 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 With the parting we lost sight of Mumford 
 entirely; he went out of the district. 
 
 The time was nearly midnight when I finally 
 left Simpson and went home to the collaps- 
 ible chair-bed to prepare for another week's 
 work.
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 
 'ON MY OWN' 
 
 PINAUD at this time was out for whole days 
 looking for orders. Business was very slack, 
 and although the governor had all sorts of 
 articles made up on speculation, trade refused 
 to flow in our direction. 
 
 The result of this was that I often had to 
 lose a day's work, and saw considerably more 
 of Stanley Augustus than I liked, without the 
 restraining presence of Pinaud. When that 
 gentleman was in the shop "Joe" was civility 
 itself, but as soon as the governor was out of 
 the way Joe became a petty tyrant. 
 
 Of course I quickly resented his arrogance, 
 but beyond one or two slight quarrels, nothing 
 very desperate took place until one Friday 
 afternoon when he worked me up by petty 
 sneers and childish personal allusions. 
 
 "Acorn!" he said finally; "h'm, Acorn! 
 
 Some acorns gives yer the stomach-ache." 
 
 213
 
 214 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 " Now, then," I said, quite determined to put 
 an end to his domination; "now, then, Mr. 
 Stanley Augustus, if you don't stop playing 
 about with me and my name I shall have to 
 stop you." 
 
 He stood still for a moment as if shocked. 
 
 " You do what ? " he queried. 
 
 " Yes, I'll do what," I said firmly, " and a 
 bit more than what, if you like." 
 
 Then somehow, before I was quite aware of 
 it, we were punching and fighting each other 
 round and round the narrow bench-rooms. 
 Crash ! the framework of a china-cabinet I was 
 making was knocked on to the floor, but round 
 we followed each other, till from sheer exhaus- 
 tion we stopped and noted the damage we had 
 wrought. Splintered fragments of furniture 
 lay about the shop, the sight of which caused 
 us to wonder what the governor would say. 
 
 Hastily gathering the pieces, I repaired the 
 damage as best I could, whilst Joe went out 
 to bathe his eye. 
 
 A few minutes later Mr. Pinaud returned, 
 and shortly afterwards went home for the
 
 <ON MY OWN' 215 
 
 day without apparently noticing anything 
 amiss. 
 
 I felt the crisis had come at last. I would 
 not work for another man's enrichment any 
 longer, I told myself, and went home that 
 night to consider my plans. As for Joe, I 
 knew I had subdued his arrogance, and I 
 despised him. 
 
 At about ten o'clock that night I went out to 
 find Howton. 
 
 " Had a bust-up," I said figuratively ; then 
 detailed the fight and told him I wanted to 
 commence business on my own account. 
 
 " Now," I said, " the reason I have come 
 round is to ask if you would care to share a 
 shop with me. Each of us can have our 
 separate businesses, but it would be nice to be 
 together." 
 
 " I should like to, very much," was his reply ; 
 "but I've only got four pounds ten saved up, 
 how much have you got?" 
 
 " I've got eight pounds," I said ; " but of 
 course I am not going to use all that capital." 
 
 "All right," he replied finally, " I'll turn my
 
 216 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 job up to-morrow, and you'll do the same, and 
 we take a shop together." 
 
 The next day, Saturday, I told Pinaud I 
 should be packing up on Monday morning. 
 He accepted my statement without a word, but 
 after paying me my wages he called me aside, 
 and said 
 
 " Now look here, George, my workmen are 
 my friends, and you are my workman. I treat 
 you as a friend, and I want to know why you 
 are leaving. I hear from the polishers that 
 you had a fight with Joe yesterday what was 
 eet about ? " 
 
 I told him of its childish origin, whereupon 
 he laughed. 
 
 " You Engleesh, you are fools," he com- 
 mented; "you no need to leave." 
 
 I insisted, I told him I had made arrange- 
 ments with a friend to start on my own account. 
 
 "All right," he said, with his customary 
 shrug of the shoulders, "go eef you like; but 
 eef you go, Joe must go too." 
 
 " No, no ! " I entreated. " Don't send him 
 away because of that, you know what a fool
 
 'ON MY OWN' 217 
 
 he is, and he hasn't any decent tools to go into 
 a new shop with." 
 
 Mr. Pinaud nodded his head. 
 
 "Yes, he is a fool; eef he has no tools eet 
 is his own fault. Eef you go, he must go." 
 
 The governor communicated this decision 
 to Joe, who nearly wept in consequence. " Do 
 stop," he urged lugubriously ; " do stop ! " 
 
 " Can't," I replied, " I've made arrange- 
 ments with a pal; I'm very, very sorry, but I 
 can't let him in," meaning that I couldn't 
 deceive Howton for his sake. 
 
 I was greatly worried about Joe's dismissal. 
 I felt I was dragging him down, as indeed I 
 was; but I had to choose between Howton, 
 who had left his job, and Augustus, who was 
 certainly no friend of mine. 
 
 I went to the shop early on Monday morn- 
 ing to get my tools and to plead with Pinaud 
 to retain Augustus. But it was unavailing. 
 
 " You must both go ! " he reiterated. 
 
 Pinaud went himself a fortnight later, some 
 said abroad, leaving debts of some hundreds 
 of pounds behind him. He had been plucked
 
 218 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 at the " Duck and Goslings " of other 
 people's feathers ! 
 
 Howton and I soon got to work. We rented 
 a shop for four shillings a week from a fair- 
 haired man who was quite deaf and very nearly 
 drunk. 
 
 I insisted on a receipt for the initial deposit, 
 also the key, whereupon we entered on our new 
 possession and bethought ourselves of the next 
 step. That was to get two second-hand 
 benches. Although we tramped about for 
 hours from one ironmonger's shop to another 
 we could see no announcement of benches for 
 sale, so at last, thinking the matter over, we 
 decided to make them for ourselves. 
 
 We went out and bought some beech, and 
 spent our first day in most arduous toil, 
 fashioning the wood to our requirements. 
 
 We were full of our prospects, and whilst 
 working harder than we had ever worked 
 before, cheered each other with brave words, 
 although in our hearts we felt somewhat 
 anxious about the success of our new venture.
 
 'ON MY OWN' 219 
 
 I told my people of my ambitions, over 
 which I grew quite enthusiastic; indeed, I 
 openly said I couldn't understand why my 
 father had never attempted the same experi- 
 ment. 
 
 My parents simply ridiculed my notions, 
 and told me that my ambitions would be my 
 ruin, and that eventually I should be thankful 
 if I managed to keep in as good a social and 
 industrial position as they were in themselves. 
 
 Within a few days I made some articles of 
 furniture, and packing these carefully on a 
 barrow, got between the handle shafts and 
 went out on the " buzz." 
 
 I stopped before a large wholesale furniture 
 house in Curtain Road. After loosening the 
 ropes which held my precious freight, I lifted 
 an overmantel and placed it in a prominent 
 position against the doorway. 
 
 " Good-morning, sir," I said to the " buyer " 
 upon entering the shop. 
 
 "Well? "he answered. 
 
 " I've got a novelty in overmantels outside," 
 I began.
 
 220 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 " A novelty," he responded ; " let's see it." 
 
 He evidently liked my design. He pos- 
 sessed very good taste, I thought, most in- 
 telligent man; here was my fortune made 
 immediately. 
 
 " H'm ! " he said, after inspecting the over- 
 mantel at a distance, and then closely. " How 
 much?" 
 
 He was now standing at a little distance, 
 allowing the beauty of my handiwork to filter 
 into his soul, as I thought, so I did not disturb 
 his enraptured reverie. 
 
 " How much ? " he again inquired, with a 
 touch of irritation in his voice. 
 
 " Fifteen shillings each," I murmured. 
 
 "How much?" he repeated, as if surprised. 
 
 " Fifteen shillings each," I said again. 
 
 He stood as if speechless for a minute. 
 ' Take 'em away," he then said, with a wave 
 of the hand to indicate finality. " Tak^e 'em 
 away ! " 
 
 I packed up the overmantel at once, feeling 
 rather bitter towards this mercenary person, 
 and had pushed my barrow a few yards from
 
 'ON MY OWN' 221 
 
 the shop, when he shouted out for me to 
 return. 
 
 "Well, will you have 'em?" I inquired 
 breathlessly. 
 
 " Yes, I will," he said, " at eight shillings a 
 time." 
 
 For answer I returned to my barrow shafts, 
 and resumed my " buzzing."
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 ' BUZZING ' 
 
 ALTOGETHER I visited about a dozen of the 
 principal shops. At some I was merely told 
 to " Go away," the advice being attended by a 
 gesture indicating that they were already over- 
 stocked with goods. At other shops my work 
 was criticized, and my business-card retained, 
 but that was all. 
 
 At one of these last places I was recognized 
 by the " buyer " as an employee of Pinaud's. 
 He had called in at Pinaud's shop once or 
 twice, and had seen me at work. 
 
 "Started on your own?" he inquired. 
 ' Yes," I replied. " Can I do business with 
 you?" 
 
 " Nothing doing," he said ; then added, 
 indicating my barrow-load, "not in our line. 
 How much?" 
 
 "Fourteen shillings," I replied. 
 
 222
 
 BUZZING ' 223 
 
 "Want something for your work," was his 
 response. 
 
 " Well," I retorted, " I'm selling furniture 
 or trying to not firewood." 
 
 I could not sell him anything, so I just left 
 my card with him, and pushed my barrow 
 along once more, until at last I was sick and 
 tired of " buzzing." 
 
 With my boots and trousers splashed with 
 hardening mud, with my mind in some such 
 condition, for each refusal stuck like a foul 
 blot upon my bright hopes, and with my body 
 tired out by five hours of this unproductive 
 buzzing, I suddenly lost heart, and decided to 
 give in for the day, and go back to shop. 
 
 This was being "on my own," I bitterly 
 thought; this was independence, begging of 
 people to buy my handiwork ; this was freedom 
 to starve. 
 
 I laughed outright, though grimly enough, 
 when I thought of that beautiful metaphori- 
 cal expression "buzzing," the idea of a bee 
 busily distilling honey from the beautiful 
 flowers which it visited one after the other.
 
 224 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 The sight of a Jew named Wartski standing 
 before his shop prompted me to make a last 
 effort to clear my overmantels. 
 
 " Good-evening, sir ! " I said deferentially. 
 
 Being a Jew he was not accustomed to much 
 civility from Gentiles in that quarter, so my 
 salute at once caused him to regard me with 
 favour. 
 
 "Veil," he said, "vat you got, eh?" 
 
 " Some very nice overmantels," I replied. 
 " Good workmanship, good design, and of 
 solid wood, just the things for your class 
 of trade." 
 
 Wartski beamed upon me, for he was re- 
 nowned in the trade as a cheap, sweating manu- 
 facturer of shoddy furniture. He bade me 
 show him one which I did very willingly, one 
 may be sure, leaning it against his door-post 
 and calling his attention to the design. 
 
 "Ja, all right," he agreed; "vere you got 
 design from, eh' ? " 
 
 " It's my own design," I insisted. 
 
 "Oh ja, I seen it before; but 'ow mooch for 
 dem?"
 
 BUZZING ' 225 
 
 " Twelve shillings each," I said in despair. 
 
 " Vat, tvelf shilling ? Now joost listen to me." 
 
 I listened, whilst he wagged his fat fore- 
 finger, and reasoned thus, " De vood cost so 
 mooch, and de vorkmanship cost so mooch, 
 and de rent and de oder tings cost so mooch; 
 I vil gif you ten shilling each for dem." 
 [Nothing for design or profit.] 
 
 I had nine overmantels upon my barrow. 
 Here was an offer of four pounds ten in cash. 
 A struggle between principle and expediency 
 took place within me. I accepted his offer. 
 
 "All right," I agreed, "they're yours; only 
 mind, it's my design, and if you want any more 
 like that you must come to me and I'll make 
 them." 
 
 "Of course," he replied, bidding me good- 
 night, as I trudged away with the money, the 
 empty barrow and a lightened heart. Four 
 pounds ten ! They had cost me three pounds 
 five to get up without reckoning my labour, 
 which awarded me considerably less remunera- 
 tion than I had received from Pinaud. 
 
 "Got rid of 'em, then," remarked Howton,
 
 as I entered the shop with the empty wrappers 
 in my arms. " Didn't have much trouble, I 
 suppose ? " 
 
 " Didn't I ! " I replied ; " nobody seems to 
 want to buy anything. I was giving it up once 
 or twice." 
 
 " Oh ! you couldn't have had much trouble," 
 he persisted ; " you went out at twelve o'clock, 
 and it's only seven now." 
 
 " Only seven ! " I retorted irritably. " But 
 there ! I don't want to argue with you as to 
 whether they were easy to sell or not. You'll 
 find out for yourself when you take your work 
 out on the buzz. I'm simply famished, so I'm 
 going home. Good-night." 
 
 My greeting upon getting home was, 
 " Hullo ! you're in a fine mess ; been standing 
 in a pool of mud? " 
 
 " No, but I've been on the buzz," I replied, 
 and waited for the inquiry as to how I got 
 on. Nobody seemed to evince the slightest 
 curiosity, so I drew into my shell for the rest 
 of the evening, irritated with everything and 
 everybody.
 
 ' BUZZING ' 227 
 
 The greatest offence I urge against my 
 parents is that they never supported me by 
 their interest, or their enthusiasm, in anything 
 I undertook. In this business venture I had 
 nobody to whom I could confide all my hopes 
 and fears. Howton, I found, was absolutely 
 void of any sense of proportion, and quite 
 failed to see a problem in its relation to other 
 matters, although in character and integrity he 
 was the soul of manliness and high principles. 
 My only confidant was Harold Vange, who 
 was not the right person because the whole of 
 my business affairs were foreign to his nature 
 and experience. He heard me, although in an 
 abstracted manner, only remarking that if I 
 wanted any money he would try to lend it to me. 
 
 I was grateful for the proffered assistance, 
 and assured him that I had no intention or need 
 of availing myself of his offer. 
 
 Weeks dragged along. Howton finished his 
 work and went out "buzzing" day after day, 
 but without success. 
 
 I made all kinds of furniture, but failed to 
 
 sell it. 
 Q 2
 
 228 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 My life became almost unbearable. A 
 youth in his teens always magnifies his busi- 
 ness anxieties, if he has any. A thousand petty 
 troubles combined to make my head go cold, 
 to make my shoulders stoop as if bent under 
 some heavy burden. 
 
 " Life's a frost," was all that Howton and I 
 could say to each other, as we sat on our 
 benches moodily staring at each other over the 
 stack of unsaleable furniture that was piled up 
 in the middle of the shop. 
 
 Poor Howton ! I must not say too much of 
 his trials and troubles, for he is, and was, very 
 reticent about them himself; but I know that 
 his father and mother largely depended upon 
 him, and that he half starved himself for their 
 maintenance at this period. Half a kipper and 
 a slice of bread is not much for a man's prin- 
 cipal meal, upon which to base a hard day's 
 work, yet that was what Howton often had for 
 dinner. 
 
 At last the tide of events came to their low- 
 est ebb. I had twopence in my possession, 
 whilst Howton was penniless, and moreover
 
 ' BUZZING ' 229 
 
 owed me fourpence. His oil-lamp flickered 
 and jumped, and finally ceased to show a light, 
 for lack of oil. 
 
 " Lend us a penny for oil," he demanded 
 gruffly. 
 
 " No," I said. " It is no good me parting 
 with the last coppers I've got. Let's go 
 home." 
 
 I tossed about in bed that night reviewing 
 the situation, whereupon the bed collapsed. I 
 could see no fun in getting to misery early the 
 next morning, so I lay rather later than usual 
 and arrived at the shop to find Howton hard at 
 work. 
 
 " Post-card for you," he said ; " means 
 orders, I expect." 
 
 I eagerly scanned the post-card. It was 
 from Dolphin & Co., requesting me to call. 
 The man I had to see was the " buyer " that had 
 recognized me as one of Pinaud's employees. 
 
 " Er I sent for you, Acorn," he began, as 
 soon as he saw me " I sent for you to know if 
 you could supply us with some of Pinaud's 
 kind of furniture?"
 
 230 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 " No," I replied ; " I cannot consent to rob 
 another man of his designs. I'll make you 
 some of my own if you like, but not Pinaud's." 
 
 "But where is Pinaud?" he inquired. 
 
 " At his old shop, I suppose," I replied. 
 
 "No, but he isn't," corrected the "buyer." 
 " Nobody knows where he's got to. Some say 
 he's gone abroad. You're not 'doing him any 
 harm by making his stuff." 
 
 I quite saw that his going away was a great 
 stroke of luck for me. I thereupon secured a 
 five-pound order from the " buyer." I only pos- 
 sessed three-halfpence by now, so it was neces- 
 sary to accept the financial assistance so kindly 
 offered by Vange to be able to make a start. 
 
 Strangely enough the very next day How- 
 ton's cloud lifted also. A certain oily-tongued 
 individual with a face as impassive as the 
 Sphinx, called to see him. 
 
 " Mr. Howton, I believe ? " he said to me. 
 
 I disliked this person intuitively. " Made a 
 mistake," I said. "There's Mr. Howton,"- 
 who then came forward flushing with pleasure 
 at the prospect of a customer. They went out
 
 ' BUZZING ' 231 
 
 together for an hour or so, whilst I steadily 
 worked away at my orders, and rejoiced to 
 think that at last we were finding a footing. 
 Pinaud gone abroad ! I was sorry for that, but 
 I could quite see that it gave me a better chance 
 of succeeding in business; and now that How- 
 ton had " struck a vein," we could keep the shop 
 on together, and from this on we could expect 
 to live prosperous, tranquil lives. 
 
 Howton burst into the shop, dancing and 
 chuckling with glee. " Got a big order ? " I 
 inquired. 
 
 "Finest thing I've ever heard of," he said; 
 " and it's not going to finish in a week or a 
 month or a year; in fact, I reckon I've got 
 something that'll keep me going for years, 
 soon pay you back your money now, and have a 
 bit by me too ! The idea is this," he con- 
 tinued, "the snobs who live in these little 
 jerry-built houses in the suburbs are very fond 
 of giving highfalutin names such as c Honey- 
 suckle Grange ' or ' Rosebower Lodge ' to 
 their places. Well, a syndicate's been formed 
 with a large staff of travellers to encourage that
 
 232 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 sort of thing, and to sell to these people nicely 
 decorated metal name-plates. My job is to 
 supply the wooden panel that they pin the 
 plate itself on to. And as they reckon that 
 every snob in the United Kingdom is going to 
 buy one, I'm likely to have work for life ! 
 Some money in that idea, you know. And they 
 expect people will want to change the name of 
 their places every twelvemonth or so, which 
 will mean more work when the thing is in full 
 swing ; see ? " 
 
 I said, that like all really great ideas, it was 
 very simple, and congratulated him upon his 
 turn of luck. 
 
 ' Yes," he continued to say, " I'm to make a 
 gross now, and two gross and a half when they 
 are finished ; terms : net cash with delivery. 
 
 Borrowed a bit of money from Mr. T , and 
 
 I start making my fortune first thing after 
 dinner." 
 
 I did not care to damp his ardour by casting 
 doubts upon the character of Mr. Sphinxface. 
 I inquired, however, " What sort of man is he ? " 
 
 " Well, rather quiet and watchful, you know,
 
 BUZZING ' 233 
 
 George ; but absolutely straight, I should say 
 in fact, there's no doubt about it." 
 
 I had my doubts; but then, I thought, I am 
 a suspecting sort of person, so perhaps I am 
 mistaken, and Howton right in his estimate.
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 AT LOW EBB 
 
 MY five-pound order was duly executed and 
 taken home. I paid Vange back his money, 
 and hoped for more orders. 
 
 I called upon Dolphin & Co. many times 
 in the following week, but my efforts to get 
 a quiet talk with the " buyer " were about as 
 successful as if a tramp endeavoured to inter- 
 view the King. 
 
 I wasted the best part of a week in trying 
 to get another order from him; but all in vain, 
 notwithstanding the fact that he had sent me 
 another post-card asking me to call at my 
 earliest convenience. On some occasions six 
 or seven of us would be standing in a row for 
 a couple of hours at a stretch, waiting for his 
 majesty the "buyer." 
 
 ' Takes the gilt off the ginger-bread," said 
 an elderly man to me, whereupon I sighed, and 
 
 " wished to be blowed if it didn't." 
 
 234
 
 AT LOW EBB 235 
 
 Mr. Westcott, the " buyer," eventually spoke 
 to me, shaking his head vigorously the while, 
 at my request for more orders. 
 
 " No, no ! " he said ; " I don't want any- 
 thing just now, but I'm getting out my Autumn 
 Catalogue, and I want you to bring up some 
 new designs to put into it." 
 
 I worried and puzzled my brains to design 
 something original, but beyond two or three 
 new ideas I was unsuccessful. However, I pre- 
 sented a dozen designs to him a few days 
 later, quite expecting an order to accompany 
 their acceptance. 
 
 "Very well, Acorn," Mr. Westcott said; 
 "leave them with me, will you? I'll let you 
 know when I want anything." 
 
 Days passed without a sign of orders. I 
 tried "buzzing" some of my other furniture, 
 but in vain. I was again reduced to twopence. 
 
 " Down again," I wrote in a diary at that 
 period; "down again to twopence, something 
 is sure to happen for the good now." 
 
 Howton had been working like mad to 
 finish his name-plate panels, had polished them
 
 236 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 himself, and was now tying a gross of them 
 within a large sheet, preparatory to taking 
 "home." 
 
 " My turn now," he remarked, as he penned 
 his account with the Syndicate. " It's about 
 time I pulled off something; pay you pres- 
 ently." Then, sticking the necessary penny 
 stamp where he should later sign for the 
 receipt of his money, he put his arm through 
 the bundle, and was gone. 
 
 I also went out, and fortunately secured an 
 order from Westcott which ensured wages to 
 the extent of eighteen shillings. Howton was 
 surprised to see me working when he returned. 
 
 "Got any money?" he inquired. 
 
 " Borrowed a pound from Harold Vange," I 
 replied. " Why, do you want change ? " 
 
 " Oh no ! " he said airily. " Only the Syn- 
 dicate prefers to pay for the whole three gross 
 and half when completed. Everything's above- 
 board, quite square and all that, only I'm rather 
 short of cash, and thought " 
 
 ' That I could lend you some? " I continued, 
 " I can't. I have got very little money, and
 
 AT LOW EBB 237 
 
 what I have has been borrowed; besides, why 
 didn't you insist upon cash with delivery, as 
 you had arranged ? " 
 
 " Well, as he said, it was so silly to bring a 
 separate account for small quantities when we 
 were doing the thing on such a large scale. 
 So I left it open until next week when I should 
 take the rest home." 
 
 " It was very foolish of you," I retorted. 
 
 " Oh no, it wasn't," he replied. " Syndicate's 
 as safe as the Bank of England ; but there ! I 
 can easily borrow money upon such security, 
 so you needn't worry; keep your mouldy 
 money." 
 
 In due time I finished my little order and 
 took them "home," and wasted a great deal 
 more time waiting for more work and inquir- 
 ing about the designs, but to no purpose. 
 Dolphin & Co. seemed to have three stock 
 reasons for delay : either they were stock- 
 taking, preparing their new catalogue, or else 
 Mr. Westcott was indisposed. 
 
 Howton worked early and late until at last
 
 238 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 he finished all the name-plate panels he had on 
 order. 
 
 " Safe as the Bank of England, my boy," he 
 roundly declared ; " you're suspicious of 'em, 
 are you ? All right, you wait and see me come 
 back with my money, and a big order with it." 
 
 Again he was deceived, and dismissed with- 
 out either. Mr. Sphinxface had told him 
 some plausible tale about it being a Syndicate, 
 and therefore that all cheques must be signed 
 by the other partners as well as himself, their 
 banking account being deposited under several 
 names. He had promised to send the cheque 
 along to Howton the moment he got it properly 
 signed. 
 
 After this many idle days came and went. 
 We were now in serious straits without 
 capital, without hope (at least I was without 
 hope, Howton still believed in the absolute 
 honesty of the Syndicate), and to crown all we 
 both possessed a large amount of unsaleable 
 furniture, packed up in the middle of the small 
 shop, hindering our progress in every way. 
 
 The uncertainty and hopelessness of our
 
 AT LOW EBB 239 
 
 position so pressed upon me that at last I felt 
 I could not work. I could not hope to sell my 
 goods, and what was the use of making more 
 stock ? 
 
 I began sitting out in the little yard attached 
 to the shop, thankful for the light of the sun 
 and a glimpse of the blue sky; the time was 
 August, late in the month. I had been cheated 
 by circumstance of a week's holiday, planned 
 at the very beginning of the year, before ever 
 I thought of starting " on my own." 
 
 Sometimes as I sat out in that yard I penned 
 the thoughts uppermost in my mind at the 
 time in the diary which I kept in a very casual 
 sort of way. I give an extract 
 
 " Aug. 22, 19 . I have been unwell, and am 
 now in that state that I cannot work. What, I 
 think, am I alive for ? I know, if I go out some- 
 where and enjoy myself I shall be reproached 
 by everybody as being lazy. Visions of Hamp- 
 stead or Victoria Park flit across my tired 
 vision, albeit I am jaded and my head aches; 
 I think of Sartor Resartus, where Diogenes
 
 240 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 Teufelsdrockh whispers to himself, ' What ! is 
 this the only way to get the crust and couch 
 that constitute my needs ? ' Arise, then, seek 
 ye another means of getting your hunger and 
 thirst satisfied than by assiduously waiting on 
 heads of furnishing firms for the crumbs they 
 deign to scatter. 
 
 " I am a-weary, and have been. It may be 
 because of health (or lack of it), but this last 
 month I have been grumpish to everybody. 
 
 " I suppose it will be all right some day, 
 else life were not worth living."
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 THE DWELLERS BELOW 
 
 WE could not keep on the shop without some 
 income or other, so we decided to close, and 
 to get into other people's employment as soon 
 as the opportunity appeared. 
 
 Trade seemed to be very quiet all round, 
 and Howton and I had grave doubts as to 
 whether we should find our feet very quickly. 
 
 " Still," was Howton's comment, " still, it 
 won't be long before the Syndicate parts up 
 with the cash they owe me; a week or so, I 
 suppose, and then I can start again, perhaps 
 employ a big staff making name-plate panels; 
 might be able to give you a job." 
 
 I owed two pounds to Vange, and had about 
 five shillings in hand with which I intended 
 paying out various petty credit accounts before 
 closing down. 
 
 My fret-cutter and moulder was a young 
 R 241
 
 242 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 man to whom I explained my position and paid 
 my account. 
 
 He had been interested in our venture, his 
 own business was a kind of family heirloom 
 handed down to him by his father, who had 
 retired. "What sort of furniture?" he in- 
 quired, as I mentioned my unsaleable stock. 
 
 I described the furniture to him. 
 
 "All right," he said; "I'll come across and 
 have a look at it. I'm thinking of getting 
 married shortly, and perhaps some of your 
 stuff might suit me." 
 
 He came across and bought quite a third of 
 my stock, for which he paid ready money. 
 
 As soon as my customer left the shop How- 
 ton left his bench, against which he had been 
 leaning with arms folded and eyes downcast, 
 and came over to me. 
 
 "Game to stop on another week?" he 
 inquired rather brusquely. 
 
 " Do you think it any good ? " I inquired in 
 return. 
 
 "Why, don't you?" he continued. 
 
 "Well, no! I don't," I said; "we're drag-
 
 THE DWELLERS BELOW 243 
 
 ging on and dragging on, and what for? We 
 shall have to shut up in the end, so why not 
 shut up now without making matters worse ? " 
 
 " All very well for you," he replied ; " but 
 you forget I've got the Syndicate to look 
 forward to." 
 
 After all, I thought, I led him to start "on 
 his own," so I should be acting rather shabbily 
 if by shutting up the shop I spoiled his 
 prospects. 
 
 I paid the rent in full the following Mon- 
 day morning without asking my companion 
 for his share, and afterwards lent him a few 
 shillings. 
 
 The week passed uneventfully. I again 
 went out " buzzing," but without success. 
 
 " I won't knock my head against a brick wall 
 any longer," I told Howton in my bitterness of 
 feeling ; " I'm going to turn it up." 
 
 We decided to shut up shop. 
 
 It would weary the reader to detail the 
 packing away of our benches, and our ambi- 
 tions; to tell of our quest for work would 
 be a mere repetition of a previous chapter. 
 
 R 2
 
 244 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 Suffice it to say that I got work two days after I 
 first sought it, whilst Howton was " out " some 
 weeks. 
 
 During this unprofitable period he repeatedly 
 visited the offices of the Syndicate, and finally 
 succeeded in obtaining the promised cheque 
 post-dated for a fortnight. 
 
 He was very proud of that cheque, flaunted 
 it before me, scoffed at my suspicions, and, I 
 believe, borrowed a little money on the strength 
 of it. When the fortnight elapsed he hastened 
 to the bank, and presented the cheque for 
 payment, only to have it returned across the 
 counter dishonoured. 
 
 Poor Howton ! If ever a person was un- 
 fortunate, it was he. I have often wondered if 
 circumstances trouble us or whether we are 
 responsible for troubled circumstances. Was 
 Howton the victim of a blind fate, as he sup- 
 posed, or was he the victim of himself ? 
 
 I paid Vange back his money with heartfelt 
 thanks. My opinions regarding him were 
 rapidly changing. Much of the personal dis- 
 taste I had experienced was disappearing. My
 
 conceptions were broadening, and he was 
 being fashioned by the hand of Time into a 
 being I could love. His mind, however, had 
 become attached to what he was pleased to 
 call "advanced thought" in ethics, theology 
 and politics. By being over-zealous in his 
 desire to convert me into an unthinking dis- 
 ciple of these tenets, he really severed our 
 active friendship. Unfortunately, too, by this 
 time he had given up all idea of winning my 
 affection. In such circumstances it is not sur- 
 prising that as I advanced, he receded. 
 
 We drifted. 
 
 If all the cares of the world had been upon 
 my mind during my brief term of mastership 
 I do not believe I should have looked or felt 
 more haggard and careworn than I then did. 
 The act of throwing over the whole business 
 and going back to work for another man 
 brought a real lightening of heart and mind. 
 I often laugh quietly to myself when I remem- 
 ber a very insulting young man who had ma'de 
 a practice of dropping in upon Howton and 
 myself when we were hard at work, and
 
 246 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 making endless inquiries about things in general 
 and the prices of our furniture in particular. 
 
 This supercilious person happened to " drop 
 in " just as we were loading our barrows with 
 our effects. 
 
 " Hullo ! " he inquired sneeringly, " what's 
 up?" 
 
 " Nothing much," I replied. " Only we are 
 moving into larger premises" (collapse of 
 sneering young man). So we were, but we 
 omitted to say they were other people's work- 
 shops we were going into. 
 
 My new employers were not remarkable in 
 any way except nominally, rejoicing as they 
 did in the names of Wise & Sageman. They 
 were rather pushing young men, but otherwise 
 mediocrities, as one might expect. Their line 
 of business was joinery, of which I was glad 
 to gain some experience, although I had to 
 take only fivepence an hour in return for hard, 
 unremitting toil. 
 
 At this time the lower part of the house in 
 which my parents lived was let out to some
 
 THE DWELLERS BELOW 247 
 
 Russian Jews. I never knew exactly how 
 many, but I know there were husband and 
 wife, three of her sisters, and several young 
 men lodgers, all in three rooms. Very often 
 as I entered the street door I found myself 
 colliding with some foreign stranger or another 
 one of the lodgers, I supposed. 
 
 Upon certain festivals the lower part of the 
 premises would be overrun by a motley crowd 
 of aliens, all of whom seemed to be talking at 
 once. Candles were lighted and placed in the 
 window, the rattle of coins, and eager voices 
 in altercation over stakes were to be heard, 
 whilst through their uncovered window could 
 be discerned from the yard the gamblers them- 
 selves (some with venerable beards) ben'ding 
 over the cards, the lust for money gleaming in 
 every eye. I have a feeling of compassion for 
 refugees, but I must confess my compassion 
 becomes something like an abstract idea before 
 the crude ferocity and lusts such aliens exhibit. 
 We had no dealings whatever with these 
 people, although we could not ignore their 
 presence altogether, nor their filthy manner of
 
 248 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 expectorating. Moreover, they were so care- 
 less that a feeling of insecurity was quickly 
 engendered. Their chief folly was in handling 
 fire. They would throw lighted cigarette ends 
 anywhere upon the floors or stairs, to be dis- 
 covered and put out by one of us. Naturally 
 our fear of fire was very great indeed. We 
 lived at the top of a house of which the out- 
 side walls only were of bricks, the room parti- 
 tions being entirely of match-boarding. If a 
 fire were to occur we should be caught like 
 rats in a trap. 
 
 At this time, too, I became aware of other 
 lodgers in the house. 
 
 Below the ordinary level of the street were 
 two rooms, to which daylight seemed unable to 
 penetrate through the iron gratings let into 
 the street pavement for that purpose. 
 
 I had never really given the rooms a thought 
 everything was in such utter darkness down 
 there, I had taken it for granted that none but 
 rats could exist in such a place. 
 
 Early one morning I went down the stairs 
 for some water (from the top-floor to the yard),
 
 THE DWELLERS BELOW 249 
 
 and was walking through the passage when I 
 heard footsteps ascending the basement stairs. 
 The thought flashed into my mind that some 
 Turkey Lane hooligans were in the house. I 
 squeezed myself into a dark corner and waited. 
 The footsteps ceased, and then seemed to 
 descend. A moment of uncertainty ensued, 
 then I heard a little whispering, and the foot- 
 steps of two persons could be heard again 
 coming up the stairs. 
 
 Out of the gloom appeared a woman's face, 
 surmounted by a black straw sailor-hat of 
 battered appearance and of uncertain age. 
 She was followed by a man wearing an old 
 yachting cap, the rest of their apparel being 
 but dimly visible. They both seemed to be 
 fairly respectable, yet their appearance gave 
 me a feeling of nausea. It was as though I 
 was witnessing the resurrection of the dead, 
 as they rose out of the basement and walked 
 into the street. 
 
 Their faces were bloodless and drawn, and 
 yet, in some way unaccountable to me, their 
 flesh appeared flabby. They looked for all
 
 250 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 the world like fishes dragged from the deepest 
 depths of the sea, blinking their large extended 
 eyes at the unwonted sunlight. The man 
 coughed all the way through the passage, 
 and both disappeared through the open street 
 door.
 
 CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 THE TOLL OF TURKEY LANE 
 
 ONE of the Jew's sisters-in-law married one 
 of his lodgers, whereupon great were the re- 
 joicings and many the guests. All day (I was 
 told) various Jewish tradesmen arrived at our 
 house with halfpenny bottles of lemonade, 
 smoked salmon and tubs of wallies (a wally is 
 a small cucumber pickled in white vinegar and 
 sold after a good deal of unnecessary finger- 
 ing and squeezing for a halfpenny), with many 
 other delicacies dear to the Jewish taste. Such 
 extravagances aroused our anticipations, and 
 we were not disappointed. 
 
 Three musicians of a sort had been engaged, 
 who scraped weird jigs and wheezy dances out 
 of their instruments with untiring zeal. I was 
 very curious to inspect this affair at close 
 quarters, so I crept down the dark stairs and 
 
 looked through their open door. 
 
 251
 
 252 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 About thirty guests were in one small room : 
 the ladies in white, and for the most part bloom- 
 ing with heat and joy; the gentlemen dressed 
 according to taste, and whatever garments were 
 obtainable at bargain prices " down the Lane." 
 
 The musicians struck up bravely. All the 
 chairs were pushed to the walls so that the 
 centre of the room was quite clear. The young 
 ladies sat with nodding heads and with feet 
 beating time to the jig. Then the Jew himself 
 darted into the open space and flung himself 
 round the room in that series of spasmodic 
 jerks known as the Russian Dance. 
 
 " Bravo ! " " Bravo ! " cried the excited 
 foreigners. " Eet is goot ! " " Goot ! " 
 
 And so the evening wore on until the 
 musicians began to nod over their instruments, 
 jigs and dancing ceased, and the guests 
 gradually departed. I went back up-stairs 
 again, and soon we were asleep. 
 
 It was still dark when I was awakened; the 
 atmosphere seemed foggy, I could hear my 
 mother calling through the wooden partition, 
 " George ! George ! get up quick ! " and yet
 
 THE TOLL OF TURKEY LANE 253 
 
 louder than her voice was the hiss of a steam 
 jet and the babble of a crowd. 
 
 I slipped on some clothes, woke my brothers, 
 and proceeded to investigate matters. 
 
 Down the stairs I went, and paused at the 
 scene of the recent festivities. In a haze of 
 smoke I could discern some firemen, one or 
 two policemen, and the excited Jew, who was 
 wringing his hands and hindering everybody. 
 
 " What's up ? " I inquired ; " a fire ? " 
 
 ' Yes," replied the fireman ; " tell your 
 people to get their clothes on at once. I 
 think it's got under, but get dressed in case 
 it flares up again." 
 
 We all got dressed and went out into the 
 street, to be questioned by a nondescript crowd 
 who wanted to know : How it happened ? 
 Why it happened? Who was dead? and if 
 not, why not ? They were rather disappointed, 
 I am afraid, to learn the mild nature of our 
 fire, and when shortly after the fire-engine 
 drove away, leaving just one man to keep 
 watch, they quickly slipped away into the grey 
 morning.
 
 254 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 It was not a serious fire, just a pair of 
 curtains and one or two chairs burned ; but our 
 lurking fear of fire was so pronounced, so 
 haunting, that what seemed to the crowd, and 
 will probably seem to the reader, a very trivial 
 affair, was charged with much anxiety and 
 worry to us. 
 
 The basement lodgers, I found, were very 
 harmless people, at the very bottom of honest 
 domiciled society. People who made frantic 
 attempts to exist sufficiently by honest means, 
 but were always being beaten. 
 
 Early every morning they went out search- 
 ing in dust-bins for cinders, pieces of wood, 
 tea-leaves, and anything else they could make 
 use of. At half-past nine in the morning they 
 used to return, have some sort of meal; then 
 the man made rough stools and crude baby- 
 chairs until evening, when he journeyed round 
 to public-houses endeavouring to "buzz" his 
 wares to impecunious bar-loungers : stools 
 threepence each, baby-chairs eightpence. 
 
 I saw the woman several times after the 
 early morning view I had had, but I never
 
 THE TOLL OF TURKEY LANE 255 
 
 again saw her husband, who, poor man, died 
 of consumption shortly afterwards, aged about 
 thirty-five years. 
 
 These are the people who starve and die, 
 whilst the ruffians of Turkey Lane are always 
 able to raise a meal without much difficulty. 
 
 The Jews down-stairs did not remain very 
 long in the house after the fire, but pre- 
 pared to sell their business and go away to the 
 Continent or so we were told. In order to 
 impress the natives, I suppose, a clothes-line 
 was strung up in our yard, upon which they 
 hung many new articles of wearing apparel : 
 including some women's skirts and a man's 
 suit. All day long the garments flapped about 
 in the breeze, and nobody noticed when they 
 ceased to flap. The same ruffians who had 
 burgled us before climbed over the wall from 
 Turkey Lane and annexed the garments, so 
 they never went abroad, whatever their rightful 
 owners may have done. 
 
 Turkey Lane ! what a terrible street, lead- 
 ing nowhere, of course on the map. The 
 houses were let out by the room, eight rooms
 
 256 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 one house. One house, eight separate families ; 
 each and every room let furnished by a great 
 unknown person named Gutterson. Every 
 article of bedding was branded 
 
 " GUTTERSON. Stolen from Turkey Lane " ; 
 
 as were the few old chairs, and the biscuit-box 
 sort of table thoughtfully provided by the great 
 Gutterson. For these rooms the rent was 
 fixed at tenpence a day. I am not sure if it 
 was paid nightly or weekly, I believe it 
 depended on length of residence. 
 
 Presiding over the destinies of Gutterson's 
 tenants, and representing that great and re- 
 spected name, was the " deputy," a fiery Irish- 
 woman, who pitched into her husband at such 
 rare intervals as when the tenants were unduly 
 quiet and too orderly to need her pugilistic 
 attention. I should like to know Gutterson's 
 real name and position in society it would, I 
 think, be very instructive. 
 
 Among the sounds that floated upward every 
 night to my ears among the oaths and curses,
 
 THE TOLL OF TURKEY LANE 257 
 
 and voices in dispute came also the fresh 
 voice of a young girl. 
 
 I never knew the girl herself, but once or 
 twice I caught a glimpse of her as she was 
 looking out of the window at the donkey her 
 father kept in the yard (she lived in a back 
 room). 
 
 The girl always sang at about half -past 
 ten some beautiful song such as "Annie 
 Laurie" or "In Old Madrid," her fresh clear 
 voice rising like some skylark from its lowly 
 nest to soar for a few brief moments in ethereal 
 planes. 
 
 At eleven o'clock or later the voice would 
 cease to sing. From behind the window, cur- 
 tained by an old shirt, her drunken father 
 could be heard terrorizing his children and 
 bullying his wife. 
 
 We lived in a rough street ourselves with 
 our yard adjoining theirs, but it was an East 
 End Belgravia compared with Turkey Lane. 
 Often as I went home between ten and eleven 
 o'clock at night I would notice ruffians scurry 
 across the road and sidle along the wall in
 
 258 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 order to get in front of me, when they would 
 thrust their evil faces close to my face, and 
 then, with a half nod of recognition, allow me 
 to pass along unmolested, because I was 
 known. 
 
 About this time I began to notice the attrac- 
 tions of a young lady attending Borland 
 Street Chapel, who in return appeared to take 
 a pleasure in my company. 
 
 I had always a feeling, though, that my 
 environment and place of residence were 
 against me, a feeling that made me rather 
 diffident about becoming, or seeking to become, 
 definitely " attached." I wished to wait until 
 I should leave home, and live under better 
 circumstances. 
 
 However, another suitor was in the field in 
 the person of Simpson, who was now again 
 " free " and attracted by the same young lady 
 as myself. 
 
 He said quite plainly that he admired her, 
 but admitted that I had a prior claim. So 
 would I make my choice at once one way or
 
 THE TOLL OF TURKEY LANE 259 
 
 the other, in order to enable him to advance 
 his suit or withdraw it? 
 
 It was all very straightforward, and with- 
 out a gleam of sentimentality. 
 
 I preferred Simpson's method to Mum- 
 ford's ; although, as in his case, the lady's ideas 
 upon the question were not considered in the 
 least. 
 
 We were sitting upon one of the Embank- 
 ment seats during this conversation. The day 
 had been warm, but as evening succeeded it 
 brought a colder atmosphere and a rose-tinted 
 haze which gradually deepened and changed 
 into a grey mist. 
 
 It was Sunday, before ever the trams ran 
 along the beautiful highway, only a tug or a 
 lazy barge in motion on the river. 
 
 The bridges of Blackfriars and Waterloo 
 hung over the dim waters on either hand, alto- 
 gether it was just the place and time to stir 
 whatever poetry is in my being, and here was 
 this fellow, this unspiritual, unemotional young 
 man bidding me to choose " my gal " or let 
 him " go out with her." 
 
 S 2
 
 260 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 I called his attention to the beautiful scene 
 around. He said he was getting cold; what 
 were my intentions? 
 
 I evasively replied I was " rather young." 
 He replied that if I waited until I got old I 
 should lose her to somebody else. What were 
 my intentions? 
 
 I said at last in desperation that if the girl 
 would have me I'd have her. 
 
 " All right," he said, without a shade of dis- 
 appointment in his voice. " Only if you 
 change your mind, you might put a word in 
 for me, will you?"
 
 CHAPTER XXX 
 
 'THE LARK'S ON THE WING' 
 
 SIMPSON and I walked home without ex- 
 changing another word, both of us were busy 
 with our own thoughts. 
 
 I was not at all sure that I loved the young 
 lady as yet; all I knew was a great sense of 
 responsibility : I felt it a bounden duty to 
 shield her from him. Indeed, I began to see 
 that I was really too fond of her to allow him 
 to woo her. His honest but coarse nature 
 would have swamped all the bright, affection- 
 ate attributes of hers; would have reduced 
 her to the shadow of his own sharp assertive 
 personality, instead of helping her to develop 
 the finer instincts I felt she possessed. 
 
 " I will woo you, Grace," I said to myself. 
 " I will ' go out ' with you, if you will have 
 me." 
 
 I did not see Grace for the next few days, 
 
 but Simpson did not wait even that short time 
 
 261
 
 262 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 to see whether he had any chance or not. He 
 straightway proposed to " go out " with another 
 girl. 
 
 He was accepted. 
 
 I did not know of this for some time. 
 
 This new fiancee of his had been friendly 
 with a short, rather stout young lady who 
 seemed to look upon a sad, sad world with 
 large lack-lustre eyes set in a white immobile 
 face. 
 
 Seeing that her friend had become 
 "attached," Miss Robbins, no doubt, thought 
 she ought to do likewise, and selected me as 
 being a likely person. 
 
 At Borland Street Chapel one evening she 
 came up to me, and said 
 
 " Oh er Mr. Acorn, I 'card some one say 
 that they heard you say that you wouldn't mind 
 going out with me, is that true ? " 
 
 Her faded face flushed a little as she spoke, 
 she looked down at the floor. 
 
 " No, no ! " I replied, as seriously as I could. 
 " Some mistake has been made, I never said 
 such a thing."
 
 'THE LARK'S ON THE WING' 268 
 
 " Didn't you ? " she said a trifle sadly. 
 
 " No, I didn't," I replied firmly. 
 
 " Only if you 'ad 'a' done," she continued 
 meekly, "er I wouldn't mind." 
 
 I felt so sorry for her, she was so obviously 
 a faded flower with a hopeless outlook upon 
 life. 
 
 I almost apologized for not having said 
 such a thing, although I thought she had con- 
 cocted that story about "having heard," etc. 
 
 Just after this I saw Grace herself, and after 
 a little conversation asked her if she would go 
 to a Saturday night concert at the People's 
 Palace with me. 
 
 She was doubtful, had arranged to go else- 
 where with a girl friend; however, I agreed to 
 wait for her at a certain street corner at seven 
 o'clock upon the coming Saturday evening, 
 and she would be there if possible not later 
 than seven-fifteen. 
 
 It was to be a test in a way : if she really 
 cares for me, I thought, she will find a way 
 to come. 
 
 At ten minutes past seven I began to doubt.
 
 264 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 At the quarter-past I was about to go off to the 
 Palace alone, when Miss Robbins turned the 
 corner, and seeing me, advanced with hand 
 outstretched. 
 
 " Er good-evening, Mr. Acorn," she began. 
 
 " Good-evening, Miss Robbins." 
 
 " Er nice evening, isn't it ? you know, nice 
 for walking." 
 
 " Very nice ; " I gave a glance up the street, 
 but could see no sign of Grace. 
 
 " Rather cold standing still, though," she 
 continued. 
 
 " Yes," I replied, " I don't think I shall stand 
 here much longer." 
 
 "No?" she inquired. 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Er Mr. Acorn," she continued after 
 this, "er I hope you wasn't offended at me 
 asking you the other night if what I heard 
 was " 
 
 " Not in the least, not in the least," I assured 
 her hurriedly, for down the street I could see 
 Grace. 
 
 Miss Robbins persisted in explaining the
 
 'THE LARK'S ON THE WING' 265 
 
 matter, until Grace and I had shaken hands, 
 and then it dawned upon her mind that we 
 were meeting by appointment. 
 
 ' They'll wonder at home where I've got 
 to," she said rather faintly. " Good-night," 
 and stooped to pick up her fallen gloves until 
 we were some distance away. 
 
 Grace and I saw a costume recital of Man- 
 tana at the People's Palace, rather a humor- 
 ous performance, Maritana being imperson- 
 ated by a matronly lady quite fifteen stones in 
 weight. 
 
 We enjoyed every Saturday evening to- 
 gether after this ; often at the People's Palace, 
 sometimes elsewhere, whilst in the following 
 spring we visited Epping Forest, or journeyed 
 down the river to Richmond, Kew, or Hamp- 
 ton Court, to spend our Saturday afternoons 
 and evenings. 
 
 But I am anticipating. All the events I 
 have narrated in these last chapters took place 
 in the two months only that had elapsed since 
 Howton and I gave up our shop. 
 
 Howton had just got work; I was thinking
 
 266 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 of leaving Wise & Sageman, who were get- 
 ting very slack and giving me days " off." 
 
 I saw a bill-head at last advertising for a 
 "maker," in the ironmonger's shop window, 
 and decided to try for it, more especially 
 because the advertisement stipulated : " Must 
 have good references." This qualification was 
 quite a new thing in my experience of the 
 trade; I thought the situation must be rather 
 superior to the ordinary run in consequence. 
 I applied at the given address (a private house), 
 but the man was " out." 
 
 It has been my boast that I have never lost 
 an opportunity. Upon this occasion I decided 
 to be the first to see him when he did return. 
 
 Standing on the opposite pavement I 
 observed quite a number of men approach, 
 stand still and think, pass the house, return, 
 read a playbill on the wall, and at last knock. 
 
 The answer in every case appeared to be 
 the same as I had received, whereupon the men 
 went for a walk round the houses. 
 
 I did not move more than a few feet during
 
 'THE LARK'S ON THE WING' 267 
 
 an hour and a half. At last I saw a man 
 coming down the street with his head high in 
 the air, and walking as though he was very 
 careful where he placed his feet. 
 
 He appeared to be well dressed, well fed, 
 and very well pleased with himself. I crossed 
 the road wondering if he were my man. At 
 the advertised address he stopped, twirled his 
 moustache for a moment and fumbled for his 
 keys. 
 
 I lost no time in introducing myself. 
 
 " Good-morning ! " I said. " You want a 
 ' maker/ I believe ? " 
 
 " Yes," he said, " come in." 
 
 I looked round before entering. About a 
 dozen men were watching us from various 
 points other would-be applicants returning 
 from their walk round the houses. 
 
 I determined not to leave that man without 
 getting the job; neither did I. 
 
 In many ways it was the most important 
 situation I had obtained, for at last I was to 
 pass out of my assistant-improver stage to
 
 268 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 blossom out into a full-blown journeyman, 
 making in this case whole articles myself, at 
 piece-work rates, i. e. not so much per hour, 
 but so much for the complete job. 
 
 Of course I had completed work before, 
 whilst "on my own," but this was the first 
 occasion an employer had recognized me as 
 fully fledged I had crossed the Rubicon. 
 
 This step is the most important and delicate 
 of all that the man who learns his trade as I 
 learned mine has to take. Many hover upon 
 the brink of the stream, as it were, but never 
 jump over, and so remain under-paid, over- 
 worked " improvers " all their lives. 
 
 I was the only employee of Mr. Wimball; 
 of whom I managed to receive about seven- 
 pence-halfpenny an hour, on an average. 
 
 His shop was in the garden of the house at 
 which I applied, but had a separate entrance 
 at the back through a courtway. 
 
 I had been working in this shop for a fort- 
 night only when we moved to other premises 
 similarly situated but in much better repair. 
 The move once over, business affairs became
 
 'THE LARK'S ON THE WING' 269 
 
 more tranquil than ever before in my life. I 
 studied my employer's needs and endeavoured 
 to satisfy him. I also studied my trade technic- 
 ally and tried by every means in my power to 
 become a " Compleat Cabinet Maker."
 
 CHAPTER XXXI 
 
 GETTING LODGINGS 
 
 WITH my mind fairly tranquil about em- 
 ployment, a little money saved and deposited 
 in the Penny Bank, I began to feel more dis- 
 satisfied than ever with my mode of living. I 
 could not remain at home any longer. It was 
 physically impossible to get to sleep at night, 
 whilst by day my home simply offended 
 every sense and all my feelings. 
 
 I believed that if I remained in those 
 quarters much longer I should contract con- 
 sumption or some other horrible disease, and 
 follow Jordan and the late basement lodger 
 into an early grave. " Why need I stop ? " I 
 fiercely asked myself, and forthwith went out 
 searching for lodgings. 
 
 I saw many very undesirable places in my 
 travels, of the " Lodgings for a respectable 
 
 young man " type. In every case the accom- 
 
 270
 
 GETTING LODGINGS 271 
 
 modation was to be shared with other, more or 
 less, respectable young men. 
 
 One place at which I applied was apparently 
 run on Box and Cox lines. 
 
 I called there one evening at about half-past 
 eight; my knock was answered by a surly man 
 with a most disagreeable mouth and a perma- 
 nent frown. 
 
 " Want to see my lodgings ' to let/ do you ? " 
 he responded. "Well, I think you can come 
 in." 
 
 As soon as I was inside his kitchen, he said : 
 " I shall have to leave you a minute, I don't 
 know if the recess has got up yet." 
 
 I sat down and waited, pulled out a copy of 
 Adam Bede which I happened to have in my 
 pocket, and read until he returned. 
 
 :< Take you up in a minute," he then said 
 gruffly. 
 
 II Very well," I replied, closing my book. 
 "What have you got there?" he inquired. 
 "Adam Bede." 
 
 "Novel, I suppose?" he said in a scornful 
 tone.
 
 272 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 :< Trash ! " he commented. 
 " Why, some of the finest works in English 
 literature are novels ! " I insisted. 
 
 " Novels are an excuse for wasting time," 
 he added, as if his dictum were final. " Never 
 read novels myself." 
 
 "If you were to read a novel or two for 
 yourself," I said, "you wouldn't talk as you 
 are doing." 
 
 "Think I don't know what I'm talking 
 about ? " he replied ; " why, my missus reads 
 no end of novels the Heartsease Library and 
 Homer's and the serial in Answers. Look at 
 'em myself. Novels ! ugh ! waste of good 
 time, when the missus ought to be making the 
 lodgers' beds." 
 
 " You're not a reader yourself, I suppose ? " 
 
 " That I am, I'm a deep reader, and I don't 
 read novels." 
 
 Sounds of footsteps descending the stairs 
 silenced us for a moment. 
 
 "What I read," he continued proudly, "is 
 ffisffy."
 
 GETTING LODGINGS 273 
 
 At this moment a man with towsled hair and 
 a general appearance of having just awakened 
 from sleep, passed through the kitchen. 
 
 I was taken up-stairs to view this " Lodging 
 for a respectable single man," and was shown 
 into a room containing four beds; upon one a 
 man was reclining, two others were " made " 
 and ready for sleeping upon, whilst the fourth 
 was disarranged, the bed-clothes tossed about 
 anyhow; it was placed in a recess. 
 
 " My wife's novel-reading," explained tho 
 man, pointing to the dishevelled bed in the 
 recess. " If it wasn't for that, she'd have made 
 that bed long ago; waste of time, novel-read- 
 ing. Well, what do you think of it, three-and- 
 six a week, in a recess all to yourself ? " 
 
 He was actually proposing to let me the 
 recess-bed, although I had seen the man who 
 had just got out of it. 
 
 " Don't think it will suit me," I said. 
 
 " Not suit you ! " He was greatly surprised. 
 " Never heard any one say that of my place 
 before! Well, and why don't it suit you?" 
 
 " For one thing," I said, " of an evening I
 
 274 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 like to sit and read a book; now how could I 
 sit up here and read ? " 
 
 " That's easy," he replied ; " come in the 
 kitchen with me. I'll lend you some hist'ry." 
 
 " Yes, it won't suit me, thanks," I said, 
 looked at his clock, asked if that was the right 
 time, and rose to depart. 
 
 :< You're a scholar, ain't you ? " he inquired, 
 as we were descending the stairs. 
 
 " I'm fond of reading," I replied, " I am not 
 so sure about being a scholar." 
 
 We were passing through the passage when 
 he suddenly said, " Do you know Palaeon- 
 tology ? " 
 
 " I beg your pardon," I replied. 
 
 " Palaeontology," he repeated. 
 
 " Oh," I said, " do you mean Paley on 
 Theology ? " 
 
 " No ! Palaeontology : you've never heard 
 of it, have you? 
 
 I assured him I had never heard of it before. 
 We now stood at the doorway. 
 
 " Well, then," he concluded, " I don't wonder 
 at your reading novels ; you're no scholar either ;
 
 GETTING LODGINGS 275 
 
 don't know palaeontology ugh ! Well, I'm 
 glad you don't like my lodgings, good-night." 
 
 I was glad enough to get away from this 
 man with his history, his palaeontology and his 
 lodgings, and to spend the rest of the evening 
 walking out with Grace. 
 
 We laughed famously over my experiences 
 of different lodgings. 
 
 I will not say much about Grace, our relation- 
 ship is too dear for that; but the reader may 
 legitimately desire to know at this point if my 
 second thoughts about Bessie Brown were 
 justified by experience. 
 
 They were. I had ample opportunities for 
 forming some judgment of her as time went 
 on; gradually her image faded from my mind, 
 just as the moon's light wanes when the sun 
 rises. 
 
 Another lodging I inspected was run by a 
 very old woman, a widow, who rented two 
 small rooms, and sought to sub-let one of those 
 to u two respectable young men." The idea 
 of being one of her tenants did not appeal to 
 me. Surely (I began to think) Morocco Street 
 
 T 2
 
 276 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 is better than this. To be herded together like 
 sheep is bad under any circumstances, but to 
 be herded with strangers is infinitely worse 
 than with one's own family. 
 
 I decided to take an empty room. 
 
 Upon the following Saturday afternoon I 
 applied at a house a mile distant from Morocco 
 Street, and proposed myself as tenant of the 
 vacant room on the top floor as advertised. 
 
 There was much head-wagging on the part 
 of the good lady : such a thing she'd never 
 heard of; who was going to make my bed? 
 and who was going to clean out my room? 
 
 " I can make my bed," I said, " and my 
 young lady will come round occasionally 
 before I get home from work and clean it out 
 for me." 
 
 She made a show of reluctance, but as the 
 room was awkwardly situated and had been 
 empty for some months, I was accepted, or 
 rather my deposit on account was accepted, 
 with thanks. 
 
 The furniture I had remaining from my un- 
 saleable stock, which had been stored by dif-
 
 GETTING LODGINGS 277 
 
 ferent acquaintances, I now had polished and 
 placed in my room. 
 
 A chair bedstead, "absolutely without tem- 
 per," as horse-dealers say, was installed and 
 permanently fixed, so that no repetition of 
 the Morocco Street breakdowns would occur; 
 whilst upon the walls I tacked some of the 
 " Hundred Best Pictures," then being issued 
 serially by Whiteley. 
 
 To Grace was deputed the purchase of bed- 
 ding and curtains for me. I went myself and 
 bought cups and saucers, plates, knives, etc., 
 a very old and smoky oil-stove and a water- 
 can, and so everything was prepared. True, 
 the boards of the room were bare, but what 
 was that to me? Here was an ideal being 
 realized.
 
 CHAPTER XXXII 
 
 "LEAVING THE NEST 
 
 I HAD arranged with my landlady to com- 
 mence living in my room on the Saturday after 
 my application, and I announced my intention 
 of leaving home to my parents on Thursday. 
 
 The news was received with a frigid silence. 
 I had expected " scenes " to occur, instead of 
 which my mother pursed up her lips and finally 
 told my father that I should very soon be ask- 
 ing to be taken back again, to which my father 
 suitably responded. 
 
 He also added later that I had a lot of 
 brothers and sisters younger than myself to 
 whom I owed a duty ; they all needed to be kept 
 in food and raiment; and now, when I was 
 capable of looking after myself, and was earn- 
 ing what he was pleased to call "plenty of 
 
 money," I was " leaving the nest," heedless of 
 
 278
 
 LEAVING THE NEST 279 
 
 the other chicks, who might starve for all I 
 cared : I, who had had the best of everything ; 
 I, who had been carefully schooled and brought 
 up with the most tender care. 
 
 Although illiterate, his speech had a rough 
 eloquence that impressed me, though it did not 
 always convince. I had quite made my mind 
 easy about going it was essential to my life, 
 I said, and as for my shielded youth and the 
 tender care I was told about I had my own 
 memories concerning those bitter memories. 
 In short, I was going to leave home, and no 
 power on earth should stop me ; I was anxious 
 to do something for my brothers and sisters, 
 and suggested coming daily to dinner and pay- 
 ing seven shillings and sixpence for the privi- 
 lege, which was to cover the cost of my wash- 
 ing. The dinner was worth about sixpence a 
 day, the washing sixpence per week, the 
 balance of three and sixpence I was not only 
 willing, but anxious to give up towards the 
 maintenance of the younger children. 
 
 Two other brothers had left school and were 
 working by now, so, although a large family,
 
 280 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 the position of affairs was not by any means 
 desperate, and would get better with each 
 succeeding year. 
 
 My proposal was adopted; my younger 
 brother Sid allowed to help me remove my 
 books (for a consideration). 
 
 I confess I trembled a little as I paid my 
 last full week's money over to my mother on 
 the Saturday; I had burned my boats, I had 
 crossed over into the strange land of inde- 
 pendent manhood. 
 
 My going was as unconcerned a business as 
 I could wish for, just an awkward, "Well, 
 good-day," from me ; a careless, " So 
 long," from my father, no salutation at all 
 from my mother. Then down the stairs and 
 away. 
 
 It was later than usual that night when I 
 got into bed. I had been out with Grace 
 during the evening, and sat looking round my 
 room and thinking and dreaming for hours 
 after escorting her home. 
 
 I pondered again over my father's words : 
 Was I an ungrateful son?
 
 LEAVING THE NEST 281 
 
 The question worried me for a time. 
 I could see very little to be grateful for to 
 him. 
 
 To my mother? Yes, her struggles to supply 
 our physical needs, especially during my 
 father's enforced absence, were quite, quite 
 heroic, I hope I shall never forget that; but, 
 if only to her strength of purpose had been 
 added some spiritual sympathy, some ray of 
 tender love, I know I should have responded 
 with generous affection my mother would 
 have been so much to me. 
 
 I can only suppose that life to her had been 
 an iron mould in which all plastic sympathies 
 had been compressed. 
 
 I did not sleep very well that first night; I 
 got up and sat by the little attic window for 
 some time, alone with the stars. 
 
 The unwonted silence of the strange streets 
 below, the peculiar beauties of the night, as 
 dim clouds came and hovered over the face of 
 the moon, which appeared again and again, 
 brighter than ever, as if to reassert its title 
 as Queen of the Night, took me out of
 
 282 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 myself. For a time I held communion with 
 the Infinite. 
 
 At last the bare boards of my room struck so 
 cold a chill into my bare feet I was glad to 
 return to bed and sleep.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII 
 
 HEYDAY ! 
 
 MR. WIMBALL, my new employer, laboured 
 under a sense of injustice. After years of 
 thought, deep painful thought, he had arrived 
 at the conclusion that he was a man of genius, 
 but that owing to a little deafness the world 
 had neglected him, and favoured certain stri- 
 dent, block-headed trade rivals. He began 
 every morning with the querulous complaint 
 
 " They don't want brains." 
 
 "Who don't?" I queried in reply. 
 
 !t The big firms." He always looked about 
 his bench for a chisel at this point, and having 
 found one, sharpened his pencil with it. 
 
 " The big firms," he would repeat. 
 
 " Well, what have they done now? " 
 
 " Oh, nothing ! " airily waving his hand, 
 " nothing ! Only laughed at my new invention. 
 
 Wouldn't even let me demonstrate. Lot o' 
 
 283
 
 284 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 fools. If another man, Wilkins or Jobson, was 
 to sneak my idea, would sell like hot cakes 
 ' clever idea ! ' they'd say then, if anybody else 
 made 'em." 
 
 This particular invention (one of many) was 
 a dwarf bookcase which folded up to save 
 room when not in use, or during removal. 
 After a great deal of pulling and pushing it 
 was possible to convert the contrivance from a 
 neat fixture into a clumsy portability with a net 
 saving of two inches from back to front, and a 
 gross waste of good time. When " portable " 
 it was necessary to tie a piece of string round 
 it to prevent it flapping about. For this inven- 
 tion, which was certainly ingenious but of no 
 practical use, Mr. Wimball sought to take out 
 a patent, and daily, under pledge of secrecy, 
 brought people round to the shop to show it off 
 and to invite comments. 
 
 I am not quite sure that his deafness was 
 not rather a blessing to him in some ways; I 
 am sure if he had heard the comments with my 
 ears he would have been considerably less com- 
 placent and self-satisfied after such visits.
 
 HEYDAY ! 285 
 
 Every Saturday a verbal battle occurred 
 between us over the question of the week's 
 wages. 
 
 His great object was to get me to leave as 
 much money back as possible until "next 
 week." Thus, if I earned thirty-five shillings, 
 he would say 
 
 " Oh, have twenty-seven ; might not have 
 much work next week ; you'll be able to do with 
 eight shillings to come." 
 
 " Let next week take care of itself," was my 
 reply; "I've earned thirty-five shillings this 
 week, haven't I ? " 
 
 "Yes; but " 
 
 " Very well, then, give it to me ; if next 
 week's a short week I'll have to put up with it; 
 I won't ask you to give me more than I've 
 earned, so I'll have thirty-five now, please." 
 
 " Yes ; but a young man like you ought to 
 be thrifty. Have twenty-seven now, and leave 
 the other to stand over." 
 
 " I'll be thrifty in my own way," I said, " I 
 think I can mind eight shillings as well as 
 you."
 
 286 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 He generally parted with the larger sum. 
 
 Of course he did not get his living by his 
 inventions, but had certain stock lines side- 
 boards, hall-stands, dinner-wagons, orders for 
 which came in fairly regularly. 
 
 Like all my other employers, however, he 
 fell slack at times (there was nothing for me 
 to do for a fortnight during one such period); 
 consequently my wages fluctuated consider- 
 ably, from eighteen shillings to two pounds 
 five, when we had an extra specially busy week. 
 
 He was kind enough, however, during my 
 fortnight's slackness to allow me the use of his 
 shop for making some articles of furniture for 
 my room, for which privilege I was duly 
 thankful. 
 
 He was a man who irritated his employees 
 most when he essayed to do things for their 
 own good. For my own part I got on fairly 
 well with him, but I have met workmen since 
 who have expressed very bitter opinions of 
 Mr. Wimball. 
 
 Six months passed away without conspicuous 
 events after leaving home. During this period
 
 HEYDAY ! 287 
 
 life gave me much joy of a quiet satisfying 
 nature. A deep affection for Grace gilded 
 everything in my sight with the wonderful light 
 of romance. 
 
 Saturdays were particularly blessed days. 
 In the summer the band-stand in the Embank- 
 ment Gardens, the fairy lamps illuminating the 
 thousands of faces, young and old, turned to 
 the players; the whispering lovers, in whose 
 hearts echoed the strain of the previous item, 
 a simple melody with an agreeably plaintive 
 refrain, were such sources of happiness that to 
 conjure up such visions is to recall the delicious 
 thoughts I entertained. 
 
 I felt as if all the world was growing younger 
 with me, that the winter of Care had really 
 ushered in the spring of Youth and Hope not 
 only for me, but for everybody. 
 
 How bright and beautiful the world seemed ! 
 In the silence of my room, after retiring from 
 such scenes, I sought to know myself; ardently 
 I longed to purge my soul of any dross it 
 possessed. 
 
 Every questionable act or sarcastic retort I
 
 288 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 had perpetrated during the day came under my 
 stern eye. I sought to check that part of my 
 nature that is wayward and warlike. I thought 
 it was a man's duty to perfect himself during 
 this life it was a duty to humanity, apart from 
 religious impulse. 
 
 Toward religion my attitude was unchanged, 
 with the exception that I read several rational- 
 ist books, which left me believing in a Creator, 
 but hopelessly unable to square belief with 
 Reason, or to disentangle my thoughts about 
 the Atonement. 
 
 This state of mind toward religion did not 
 affect my general happiness at this time, 
 although it was to do so later; my joys seemed 
 so inexhaustible that nothing could lower my 
 good spirits, or really provoke me. 
 
 All this time I had my dinners with my 
 parents, although almost shunned by my 
 brothers and sisters because they did not under- 
 stand me, by my parents because I was the 
 creator of a dangerous precedent. 
 
 Whilst we were having dinner one day the 
 part of the ceiling immediately over the table
 
 HEYDAY ! 289 
 
 collapsed, and buried the viands under a mass 
 of plaster and paper. 
 
 Luckily beyond a scratch or two nobody was 
 hurt physically ; the meal, of course, was 
 brought to a hasty conclusion; we went back 
 to work rather earlier than usual. The result 
 of this accident, if the subsidence of a faulty 
 ceiling can be called an accident, was that my 
 mother decided to remain in that house no 
 longer. She was justifiably irate, and lost no 
 time in seeking and obtaining another dwelling, 
 a small house some little distance from the old 
 locality. 
 
 To this new place, then, I turned my steps 
 every day for dinner. It was farther off for me 
 to go, but I was glad to see them get away 
 from the dangers and the Jews of the house 
 in Morocco Street. 
 
 " Want to have a word with you," my father 
 said a week or so after the removal; "won't 
 keep you a minute." 
 
 "Do you?" I replied; "what is it?" 
 
 "Well, me and your mother's been talking 
 things over, and taking one thing and another
 
 290 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 we thought we'd ask you if you think you're 
 doing your duty by the young 'uns and us, 
 because " 
 
 "Because what?" 
 
 " Because I don't." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " Well," for a moment my father hesitated, 
 then carefully looked me up and down, in- 
 spected my boots, silently criticized my 
 trousers, approved of my taste in jackets, gave 
 extra attention to my collar and tie, and finally 
 looked me full in the face. " Do you think 
 you're paying enough?" he inquired. 
 
 "Why, don't you?" 
 
 "Ask yourself the fair question," he con- 
 tinued ; " ask yourself : ' Am I doing my duty 
 by my little brothers and sisters and the old 
 parents who've struggled so hard for me ? ' 
 
 " I don't think we need go into all that," I 
 said; "what is it exactly that you want?" 
 
 " Your mother and me think you must pay 
 us eight-and-six a week, and that's not much, 
 considering." 
 
 " And if I don't agree ? " I interposed.
 
 HEYDAY ! 291 
 
 " Sorry to lose you, my boy, but there'll be 
 no dinners for you next week if you don't." 
 
 "Very well," I said finally; "don't cook any 
 dinners for me next week, then, for I won't 
 come here any more. I've been trying to be 
 as generous to you as I could, and now you're 
 trying to impose upon me. Keep your dinners, 
 and I'll keep myself." 
 
 " All right, my boy," said my father ; " sorry 
 to lose you, but there's the situation." 
 
 U2
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV 
 
 HOME 
 
 MY father's words severed our arrangements. 
 I made no effort to go near the family after 
 this, excepting about once a month when I just 
 inquired after everybody's health, gave half- 
 pence to the younger children, and departed as 
 I had arrived, without mingling one of my 
 interests with theirs. They listened to all I 
 had to say, of course, but asked no questions, 
 nor evinced the slightest curiosity about the life 
 I was leading apart from them. 
 
 I now had no place to turn to for home food, 
 the coffee-shop had to satisfy my needs. 
 
 To depend upon coffee-shops for every meal 
 one has is not a happy state, there are so few 
 good ones. 
 
 Then, again, very few coffee-shops are open 
 on Sunday, so that to get a dinner at all on 
 
 that day is a matter for congratulation. 
 
 292
 
 HOME 293 
 
 One shop after another I tried. In some the 
 food was simply hotted-up stuff that the week's 
 trade had failed to clear; in other shops the 
 act of eating was made uncomfortable by gangs 
 of boys and young men gambling for half- 
 pence, in the intervals of which they consumed 
 pastry and tea and looked on other customers 
 as interlopers and spies. I settled down at 
 last in a shop without these objections, but 
 having a distinct flavour of its own. At certain 
 times a number of motor-'bus drivers came into 
 the place smelling strongly of petrol. Such 
 a smell is distressing at meal-times. I learned 
 to get there early and clear out again before 
 the breeze came in. 
 
 But oh ! the horror of those meals at the best 
 of times; the gross crunchings of the bleary- 
 faced man in the corner seat, the constant inter- 
 ruption as one and another passes you " if you 
 don't mind." Then the man with the bird- 
 cage tied in a black neckerchief raises his 
 voice on high in denunciation of the shop's 
 newspaper, of which he has only secured the 
 advertisement pages, whilst other people, prin-
 
 294 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 cipally the bleary-faced man, read and flaunt 
 the news with evident satisfaction. 
 
 Perhaps they still go through the same per- 
 formance, still have the same rushing crowd 
 of chauffeurs, the same pungent breath of 
 petrol mingling with their stews. For me 
 the scene has changed, there are flowers 
 on my table as I write, Grace and I have 
 just finished our Sunday dinner, the most 
 blessed meal of the week; I am sitting in 
 the calm of my own home, with a strenuous 
 week's work behind and before me, thankful 
 and happy that I no longer depend upon coffee- 
 shops. 
 
 I cannot altogether dismiss my memories of 
 coffee-shops with these indications of better 
 times. 
 
 My parents' apparent dislike of me caused 
 me to brood over things, every little event that 
 seemed to go against me was magnified by a 
 too willing imagination. 
 
 My lodgings, too, were not quite weather- 
 proof, the rain trickled through the roof on to 
 my shoulders when asleep, whilst I neglected
 
 HOME 295 
 
 to trouble about fires, although the temperature 
 was bitterly cold. 
 
 I was worried, too, about work. Wimball was 
 quite unable to find me anything to do. So 
 now by day I visited ironmongers' shops, or 
 stood at some corner or another wondering 
 whatever would become of me where, and 
 when, these ups and downs would end. 
 
 Grace was very comforting in a way, but I 
 saw no hope in anything, troubles crowded 
 round mental, physical, and spiritual. 
 
 I worried about my relationship to God, and 
 prayed for some light, some faith that could 
 convince me that all was not chaos and 
 chance. 
 
 Poor Howton at this time was doing very 
 badly, and spoke gloomily about the future 
 before him. 
 
 " That's just it," I agreed with him ; "our lot's 
 nothing very grand when we're doing well : it 
 means fifty-six hours' work a week, fifty weeks 
 a year (other two not paid for), fifty years' 
 work, and then? the workhouse, or else a 
 sponging sort of existence, picking up coppers
 
 296 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 that contemptuous youngsters may care to 
 throw down ! But when we're doing badly," I 
 continued, "why, life's unbearable, now isn't 
 it? And then they say you should be con- 
 tent with the sphere God puts you in, when 
 they're drawing their thousands a year for 
 uttering such twaddle." 
 
 We were not quite certain whom we meant 
 when we said "they," but our disgust with 
 social and economic conditions was very real. 
 
 I applied after a job the next day, was suc- 
 cessful, and started at two o'clock in a kind of 
 attic turned workshop. The establishment was 
 rather large, some two-score men being em- 
 ployed in an old-fashioned Georgian house 
 with twisted oak banister rails as the sole 
 remaining evidence of former glories. 
 
 With nightfall at half-past four, the snow 
 came also. Poor Howton was somewhere out- 
 side cold and hungry, seeking work whilst I 
 was " doing well " again, and feeling as if I 
 should break down at any moment. 
 
 The ceiling of the attic I worked in was 
 easily touched by the hand. In this low shop,
 
 HOME 297 
 
 with window and door closed, a large fire and 
 four gas-jets burning, with the breath of two 
 other workmen exhausting the atmosphere, 
 depressed in health as I was, in this low shop 
 I worked. 
 
 I had a bad cough when I saw Howton next. 
 
 " Well, George," he said, " I've had about 
 enough of it. I'm off." 
 
 "What! going home already?" I inquired. 
 
 " No, I don't mean that ; I'm off, out of this 
 country. I'm going to Canada in three weeks' 
 time. Make myself a couple of boxes, and then 
 good-bye to misery and England ; write to you 
 every month if you like; but I quite expect 
 you'll come out yourself, if things don't 
 change." 
 
 The three weeks soon passed ; I saw Howton 
 sail away, and sent my very warmest wishes for 
 his success and prosperity with him. 
 
 The cold room with the leaky roof, the lack 
 of proper nourishment, the hot stuffy workshop, 
 and perhaps my own feverish anxieties about 
 my relationship to God, combined together and
 
 298 ONE OF THE MULTITUDE 
 
 threw themselves upon me in the shape of ill- 
 ness, a time of pain and peace, which left me 
 calmer and more gentle than I had ever been 
 before. 
 
 My dear friend X came into my life at 
 
 this period : a friend to whom I owe so much 
 more than I can say, let alone repay ; the friend 
 who incited me to write this book. 
 
 My time of illness showed me many things 
 I had either not seen before, or in a new light 
 altogether, and so, I think, through the dark- 
 ness that is deep before the dawn, I came into 
 the day. 
 
 I went back to work as soon as possible after 
 my illness I could not afford to be convales- 
 cent although still so weak that I was unable 
 to keep up to my usual speed and failed to 
 turn out work quite as quickly. 
 
 A workman like myself is timed and watched, 
 over every action. A day's work is very much 
 like the journey of a railway engine; certain 
 stations must be reached by certain times. 
 
 As my employer was paying me by the hour 
 this temporary slackness on my part gave him
 
 HOME 299 
 
 occasion to think; he told me I had put him 
 to some inconvenience by being ill, and was 
 now not earning the money he was paying, 
 and he could not continue such a state of 
 things. 
 
 I made no reply, but hoped for increased 
 strength and better times so that I might once 
 again seek a better job, save up some money, 
 get married, and " live happy ever after." 
 
 On Monday morning my employer said he 
 had no jobs on hand to give me to do, I had 
 better have a few days off. 
 
 I took the hint, packed up my tools and left. 
 A fortnight later I recommenced work, through 
 an introduction from my friend X , in an- 
 other part of London, at trade-union rate of 
 wages and conditions. 
 
 My life is by no means easy now. Work is 
 either too scarce or too pressing. I am either 
 seriously "under-timed," and therefore under- 
 paid, or else just as seriously " over-timed " 
 for a little extra money. 
 
 However, when the day is done I have a 
 place of rest, of which Grace is the queen. It
 
 is the dearest spot on earth to me, for it is 
 home. 
 
 And that young life for which we are re- 
 sponsible is a source of the purest joy I have 
 known, a cause of thankfulness that through 
 the failures and mistakes of the past, future 
 lives may be brighter and happier. 
 
 I am no longer alone, as the foregoing 
 words have indicated, whilst over and above 
 all I am conscious of the abiding presence of 
 God. 
 
 Looking back I see many obstacles sur- 
 mounted, tangled paths made straight; look- 
 ing forward I see a rugged path along which 
 bloom a few rare flowers that make the path 
 well worth the treading, though the way be 
 rough at times. 
 
 FINIS 
 
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