the ragged trousered philanthropists-第13章

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　well　satisfied。　　He　often　said　that　Mr　Sweater　was　a　very　good　landlord；　because　on　several　occasions　when；　being　out　of　work；　he　had　been　a　few　weeks　behind　with　his　rent　the　agent　acting　for　the　benevolent　Mr　Sweater　had　allowed　Linden　to　pay　off　the　arrears　by　instalments。　　As　old　Jack　was　in　the　habit　of　remarking；　many　a　landlord　would　have　sold　up　their　furniture　and　turned　them　into　the　street。

As　the　reader　is　already　aware；　Linden's　household　consisted　of　his　wife；　his　two　grandchildren　and　his　daughter…in…law；　the　window　and　children　of　his　youngest　son；　a　reservist；　who　died　while　serving　in　the　South　African　War。　　This　man　had　been　a　plasterer；　and　just　before　the　war　he　was　working　for　Rushton　&　Co。

They　had　just　finished　their　tea　when　Owen　knocked　at　their　front　door。　　The　young　woman　went　to　see　who　was　there。

‘Is　Mr　Linden　in？'

‘Yes。　　Who　is　it？'

‘My　name's　Owen。'

Old　Jack；　however；　had　already　recognized　Owen's　voice；　and　came　to　the　door；　wondering　what　he　wanted。

‘As　I　was　going　home　I　heard　that　Makehaste　and　Sloggit　are　going　to　start　a　large　job　on　Monday；　so　I　thought　I'd　run　over　and　let　you　know。'

‘Are　they？'　said　Linden。　　‘I'll　go　and　see　them　in　the　morning。　　But　I'm　afraid　I　won't　stand　much　chance；　because　a　lot　of　their　regular　hands　are　waiting　for　a　job；　but　I'll　go　and　see　'em　all　the　same。'

‘Well；　you　know；　it's　a　big　job。　　All　the　outside　of　that　block　at　the　corner　of　Kerk　Street　and　Lord　Street。　　They're　almost　sure　to　want　a　few　extra　hands。'

‘Yes；　there's　something　in　that；'　said　Linden。　　‘Anyhow；　I'm　much　obliged　to　you　for　letting　me　know；　but　come　in　out　of　the　rain。　　You　must　be　wet　through。'

‘No；　I　won't　stay；'　responded　Owen。　　‘I　don't　want　to　stand　about　any　longer　than　I　can　help　in　these　wet　clothes。'

‘But　it　won't　take　you　a　minit　to　drink　a　cup　of　tea；'　Linden　insisted。　　‘I　won't　ask　you　to　stop　longer　than　that。'

Owen　entered；　the　old　man　closed　the　door　and　led　the　way　into　the　kitchen。　　At　one　side　of　the　fire；　Linden's　wife；　a　frail…looking　old　lady　with　white　hair；　was　seated　in　a　large　armchair；　knitting。　Linden　sat　down　in　a　similar　chair　on　the　other　side。　　The　two　grandchildren；　a　boy　and　girl　about　seven　and　eight　years；　respectively；　were　still　seated　at　the　table。

Standing　by　the　side　of　the　dresser　at　one　end　of　the　room　was　a　treadle　sewing　machine；　and　on　one　end　of　the　dresser　was　a　a　pile　of　sewing：　ladies'　blouses　in　process　of　making。　　This　was　another　instance　of　the　goodness　of　Mr　Sweater；　from　whom　Linden's　daughter…in…law　obtained　the　work。　　It　was　not　much；　because　she　was　only　able　to　do　it　in　her　spare　time；　but　then；　as　she　often　remarked；　every　little　helped。

The　floor　was　covered　with　linoleum：　there　were　a　number　of　framed　pictures　on　the　walls；　and　on　the　high　mantelshelf　were　a　number　of　brightly　polished　tins　and　copper　utensils。　　The　room　had　that　indescribably　homelike；　cosy　air　that　is　found　only　in　those　houses　in　which　the　inhabitants　have　dwelt　for　a　very　long　time。

The　younger　woman　was　already　pouring　out　a　cup　of　tea。

Old　Mrs　Linden；　who　had　never　seen　Owen　before；　although　she　had　heard　of　him；　belonged　to　the　Church　of　England　and　was　intensely　religious。　She　looked　curiously　at　the　Atheist　as　he　entered　the　room。　　He　had　taken　off　his　hat　and　she　was　surprised　to　find　that　he　was　not　repulsive　to　look　at；　rather　the　contrary。　　But　then　she　remembered　that　Satan　often　appears　as　an　angel　of　light。　　Appearances　are　deceitful。　　She　wished　that　John　had　not　asked　him　into　the　house　and　hoped　that　no　evil　consequences　would　follow。　　As　she　looked　at　him；　she　was　horrified　to　perceive　a　small　black　head　with　a　pair　of　glistening　green　eyes　peeping　out　of　the　breast　of　his　coat；　and　immediately　afterwards　the　kitten；　catching　sight　of　the　cups　and　saucers　on　the　table；　began　to　mew　frantically　and　scrambled　suddenly　out　of　its　shelter；　inflicting　a　severe　scratch　on　Owen's　restraining　hands　as　it　jumped　to　the　floor。

It　clambered　up　the　tablecloth　and　began　rushing　all　over　the　table；　darting　madly　from　one　plate　to　another；　seeking　something　to　eat。

The　children　screamed　with　delight。　　Their　grandmother　was　filled　with　a　feeling　of　superstitious　alarm。　　Linden　and　the　young　woman　stood　staring　with　astonishment　at　the　unexpected　visitor。

Before　the　kitten　had　time　to　do　any　damage；　Owen　caught　hold　of　it　and；　despite　its　struggles；　lifted　it　off　the　table。

‘I　found　it　in　the　street　as　I　was　coming　along；'　he　said。　　‘It　seems　to　be　starving。'

‘Poor　little　thing。　　I'll　give　it　something。'　exclaimed　the　young　woman。

She　put　some　milk　and　bread　into　a　saucer　for　it　and　the　kitten　ate　ravenously；　almost　upsetting　the　saucer　in　its　eagerness；　much　to　the　amusement　of　the　two　children；　who　stood　by　watching　it　admiringly。

Their　mother　now　handed　Owen　a　cup　of　tea。　　Linden　insisted　on　his　sitting　down　and　then　began　to　talk　about　Hunter。

‘You　know　I　HAD　to　spend　some　time　on　them　doors　to　make　'em　look　anything　at　all；　but　it　wasn't　the　time　I　took；　or　even　the　smoking　what　made　'im　go　on　like　that。　　He　knows　very　well　the　time　it　takes。　The　real　reason　is　that　he　thinks　I　was　gettin'　too　much　money。　　Work　is　done　so　rough　nowadays　that　chaps　like　Sawkins　is　good　enough　for　most　of　it。　　Hunter　shoved　me　off　just　because　I　was　getting　the　top　money；　and　you'll　see　I　won't　be　the　only　one。'

‘I'm　afraid　you're　right；'　returned　Owen。　　‘Did　you　see　Rushton　when　you　went　for　your　money？'

‘Yes；'　replied　Linden。　　‘I　hurried　up　as　fast　as　I　could；　but　Hunter　was　there　first。　　He　passed　me　on　his　bike　before　I　got　half…way；　so　I　suppose　he　told　his　tale　before　I　came。　　Anyway；　when　I　started　to　speak　to　Mr　Rushton　he　wouldn't　listen。　　Said　he　couldn't　interfere　between　Mr　Hunter　and　the　men。#

‘Ah！　　They're　a　bad　lot；　them　two；'　said　the　old　woman；　shaking　her　head　sagely。　　‘But　it'll　all　come　'ome　to　'em；　you'll　see。　　They'll　never　prosper。　　The　Lord　will　punish　them。'

Owen　did　not　feel　very　confident　of　that。　　Most　of　the　people　he　knew　who　had　prospered　were　very　similar　in　character　to　the　two　worthies　in　question。　　However；　he　did　not　want　to　argue　with　this　poor　old　woman。

‘When　Tom　was　called　up　to　go　to　the　war；'　said　the　young　woman；　bitterly；　'Mr　Rushton　shook　hands　with　him　and　promised　to　give　him　a　job　when　he　came　back。　　But　now　that　poor　Tom's　gone　and　they　know　that　me　and　the　children's　got　no　one　to　look　to　but　Father；　they　do　THIS。'

Although　at　the　mention　of　her　dead　son's　name　old　Mrs　Linden　was　evidently　distressed；　she　was　still　mindful　of　the　Atheist's　presence；　and　hastened　to　rebuke　her　daughter…in…law。

‘You　shouldn't　say　we've　got　no　one　to　look　to；　Mary；'　she　said。　‘We're　not　as　them　who　are　without　God　and　without　hope　in　the　world。　The　Lord　is　our　shepherd。　　He　careth　for　the　widow　and　the　fatherless。'

Owen　was　very　doubtful　about　this　also。　　He　had　seen　so　many　badly　cared…for　children　about　the　streets　lately；　and　what　he　remembered　of　his　own　sorrowful　childhood　was　all　evidence　to　the　contrary。

An　awkward　silence　succeeded。　　Owen　did　not　wish　to　continue　this　conversation：　he　was　afraid　that　he　might　say　something　that　would　hurt　the　old　woman。　　Besides；　he　was　anxious　to　get　away；　he　began　to　feel　cold　in　his　wet　clothes。

As　he　put　his　empty　cup　on　the　table　he　said：

‘Well；　I　must　be　going。　　They'll　be　thinking　I'm　lost；　at　home。'

The　kitten　had　finished　all　the　bread　and　milk　and　was　gravely　washing　its　face　with　one　of　its　forepaws；　to　the　great　admiration　of　the　two　children；　who　were　sitting　on　the　floor　beside　it。　　It　was　an　artful…looking　kitten；　all　black；　with　a　very　large　head　and　a　very　small　body。　　It　reminded　Owen　of　a　tadpole。

‘Do　you　like　cats？'　he　asked；　addressing　the　children。

‘Yes；'　said　the　boy。　　‘Give　it　to　us；　will　you；　mister？'

‘Oh；　do　leave　it　'ere；　mister；'　exclaimed　the　little　girl。　　‘I'll　look　after　it。'

‘So　will　I；'　said　the　boy　。

‘But　haven't　you　one　of　your　own？'　asked　Owen。

‘Yes；　we've　got　a　big　one。'

‘Well；　if　you　have　one　already　and　I　give　you　this；　then　you'd　have　two　cats；　and　I'd　have　none。　　That　wouldn't　be　fair；　would　it？'

‘Well；　you　can　'ave　a　lend　of　our　cat　for　a　little　while　if　you　give　us　this　kitten；'　said　the　boy；　after　a　moment's　thought。

‘Why　would　you　rather　have　the　kitten？'

‘Because　it　would　play：　our　cat　don't　want　to　play；　it's　too　old。'

‘Perhaps　you're　too　rough　with　it；'　returned　Owen。

‘No；　it　ain't　that；　it's　just　because　it's　old。'

‘You　know　cats　is　just　the　same　as　people；'　explained　the　little　girl；　wisely。　　‘When　they're　grown　up　I　suppose　they've　got　their　troubles　to　think　about。'

Owen　wondered　how　long　it　would　be　before　her　troubles　commenced。　　As　he　gazed　at　these　two　little　orphans　he　thought　of　his　own　child；　and　of　the　rough　and　thorny　way　they　would　all　three　have　to　travel　if　they　were　so　unfortunate　as　to　outlive　their　childhood。

‘Can　we　'ave　it；　mister？'　repeated　the　boy。

Owen　would　have　liked　to　grant　the　children's　request；　but　he　wanted　the　kitten　himself。　　Therefore　he　was　relieved　when　their　grandmother　exclaimed：

‘We　don't　want　no　more　cats　'ere：　we've　got　one　already；　that's　quite　enough。'

She　was　not　yet　quite　satisfied　in　her　mind　that　the　creature　was　not　an　incarnation　of　the　Devil；　but　whether　it　was　or　not　she　did　not　want　it；　or　anything　else　of　Owen's；　in　this　house。　　She　wished　he　would　go；　and　take　his　kitten　or　his　familiar　or　whatever　it　was；　with　him。　No　good　could　come　of　his　being　there。　　Was　it　not　written　in　the　Word：　‘If　any　man　love　not　the　Lord　Jesus　Christ；　let　him　be　Anathema　Maran…atha。'　　She　did　not　know　exactly　what　Anathema　Maran…atha　meant；　but　there　could　be　no　doubt　that　it　was　something　very　unpleasant。　　It　was　a　terrible　thing　that　this　blasphemer　who　…　as　she　had　heard　…　did　not　believe　there　was　a　Hell　and　said　that　the　Bible　was　not　the　Word　of　God；　should　be　here　in　the　house　sitting　on　one　of　their　chairs；　drinking　from　one　of　their　cups；　and　talking　to　their　children。

The　children　stood　by　wistfully　when　Owen　put　the　kitten　under　his　coat　and　rose　to　go　away。

As　Linden　prepared　to　accompany　him　to　the　front　door；　Owen；　happening　to　notice　a　timepiece　standing　on　a　small　table　in　the　recess　at　one　side　of　the　fireplace；　exclaimed：

‘That's　a　very　nice　clock。'

‘Yes；　it's　all　right；　ain't　it？'　said　old　Jack；　with　a　touch　of　pride。　‘Poor　Tom　made　that：　not　the　clock　itself；　but　just　the　case。'

It　was　the　case　that　had　attracted　Owen's　attention。　　It　stood　about　two　feet　high　and　was　made　of　fretwork　in　the　form　of　an　Indian　mosque；　with　a　pointed　dome　and　pinnacles。　　It　was　a　very　beautiful　thing　and　must　have　cost　many　hours　of　patient　labour。

‘Yes；'　said　the　old　woman；　in　a　trembling；　broken　voice；　and　looking　at　Owen　with　a　pathetic　expression。　　‘Months　and　months　he　worked　at　it；　and　no　one　ever　guessed　who　it　were　for。　　And　then；　when　my　birthday　came　round；　the　very　first　thing　I　saw　when　I　woke　up　in　the　morning　were　the　clock　standing　on　a　chair　by　the　bed　with　a　card：

　　　　　　　　　　　'To　dear　mother；　from　her　loving　son；　Tom。　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　Wishing　her　many　happy　birthdays。'

‘But　he　never　had　another　birthday　himself；　because　just　five　months　a