the ragged trousered philanthropists-第16章

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t　it　in　my　own　mind；　and　wait　till　I'm　grown　up　and　then　I　can　use　my　own　judgement。'

‘Well；　now；　that's　what　YOU　were　told；　but　all　the　other　children's　mothers　and　fathers　tell　them　to　believe；　without　thinking；　whatever　the　teacher　says。　　So　it　will　be　no　wonder　if　those　children　are　not　able　to　think　for　themselves　when　they're　grown　up；　will　it？'

‘Don't　you　think　it　will　be　any　use；　then；　for　me　to　tell　them　what　to　do　to　the　Idlers？'　asked　Frankie；　dejectedly。

‘Hark！'　said　his　mother；　holding　up　her　finger。

‘Dad！'　cried　Frankie；　rushing　to　the　door　and　flinging　it　open。　　He　ran　along　the　passage　and　opened　the　staircase　door　before　Owen　reached　the　top　of　the　last　flight　of　stairs。

‘Why　ever　do　you　come　up　at　such　a　rate；'　reproachfully　exclaimed　Owen's　wife　as　he　came　into　the　room　exhausted　from　the　climb　upstairs　and　sank　panting　into　the　nearest　chair。

‘I　al…ways…for…get；'　he　replied；　when　he　had　in　some　degree　recovered。　As　he　lay　back　in　the　chair；　his　face　haggard　and　of　a　ghastly　whiteness；　and　with　the　water　dripping　from　his　saturated　clothing；　Owen　presented　a　terrible　appearance。

Frankie　noticed　with　childish　terror　the　extreme　alarm　with　which　his　mother　looked　at　his　father。

‘You're　always　doing　it；'　he　said　with　a　whimper。　　‘How　many　more　times　will　Mother　have　to　tell　you　about　it　before　you　take　nay　notice？'

‘It's　all　right；　old　chap；'　said　Owen；　drawing　the　child　nearer　to　him　and　kissing　the　curly　head。　　‘Listen；　and　see　if　you　can　guess　what　I've　got　for　you　under　my　coat。'

In　the　silence　the　purring　of　the　kitten　was　distinctly　audible。

‘A　kitten！'　cried　the　boy；　taking　it　out　of　its　hiding…place。　　‘All　black；　and　I　believe　it's　half　a　Persian。　　Just　the　very　thing　I　wanted。'

While　Frankie　amused　himself　playing　with　the　kitten；　which　had　been　provided　with　another　saucer　of　bread　and　milk；　Owen　went　into　the　bedroom　to　put　on　the　dry　clothes；　and　then；　those　that　he　had　taken　off　having　been　placed　with　his　boots　near　the　fire　to　dry；　he　explained　as　they　were　taking　tea　the　reason　of　his　late　homecoming。

‘I'm　afraid　he　won't　find　it　very　easy　to　get　another　job；'　he　remarked；　referring　to　Linden。　　‘Even　in　the　summer　nobody　will　be　inclined　to　take　him　on。　　He's　too　old。'

‘It's　a　dreadful　prospect　for　the　two　children；'　answered　his　wife。

‘Yes；'　replied　Owen　bitterly。　　‘It's　the　children　who　will　suffer　most。　　As　for　Linden　and　his　wife；　although　of　course　one　can't　help　feeling　sorry　for　them；　at　the　same　time　there's　no　getting　away　from　the　fact　that　they　deserve　to　suffer。　　All　their　lives　they've　been　working　like　brutes　and　living　in　poverty。　　Although　they　have　done　more　than　their　fair　share　of　the　work；　they　have　never　enjoyed　anything　like　a　fair　share　of　the　things　they　have　helped　to　produce。　And　yet；　all　their　lives　they　have　supported　and　defended　the　system　that　robbed　them；　and　have　resisted　and　ridiculed　every　proposal　to　alter　it。　　It's　wrong　to　feel　sorry　for　such　people；　they　deserve　to　suffer。'

After　tea；　as　he　watched　his　wife　clearing　away　the　tea　things　and　rearranging　the　drying　clothing　by　the　fire；　Owen　for　the　first　time　noticed　that　she　looked　unusually　ill。

‘You　don't　look　well　tonight；　Nora；'　he　said；　crossing　over　to　her　and　putting　his　arm　around　her。

‘I　don't　feel　well；'　she　replied；　resting　her　head　wearily　against　his　shoulder。　　‘I've　been　very　bad　all　day　and　I　had　to　lie　down　nearly　all　the　afternoon。　　I　don't　know　how　I　should　have　managed　to　get　the　tea　ready　if　it　had　not　been　for　Frankie。'

‘I　set　the　table　for　you；　didn't　I；　Mum？'　said　Frankie　with　pride；　‘and　tidied　up　the　room　as　well。'

‘Yes；　darling；　you　helped　me　a　lot；'　she　answered；　and　Frankie　went　over　to　her　and　kissed　her　hand。

‘Well；　you'd　better　go　to　bed　at　once；'　said　Owen。　　‘I　can　put　Frankie　to　bed　presently　and　do　whatever　else　is　necessary。'

‘But　there　are　so　many　things　to　attend　to。　　I　want　to　see　that　your　clothes　are　properly　dry　and　to　put　something　ready　for　you　to　take　in　the　morning　before　you　go　out；　and　then　there's　your　breakfast　to　pack　up　…'

‘I　can　manage　all　that。'

‘I　didn't　want　to　give　way　to　it　like　this；'　the　woman　said；　‘because　I　know　you　must　be　tired　out　yourself；　but　I　really　do　feel　quite　done　up　now。'

‘Oh；　I'm　all　right；'　replied　Owen；　who　was　really　so　fatigued　that　he　was　scarcely　able　to　stand。　　‘I'll　go　and　draw　the　blinds　down　and　light　the　other　lamp；　so　say　good　night　to　Frankie　and　come　at　once。'

‘I　won't　say　good　night　properly；　now；　Mum；'　remarked　the　boy；　‘because　Dad　can　carry　me　into　your　room　before　he　puts　me　into　bed。'

A　little　later；　as　Owen　was　undressing　Frankie；　the　latter　remarked　as　he　looked　affectionately　at　the　kitten；　which　was　sitting　on　the　hearthrug　watching　the　child's　every　movement　under　the　impression　that　it　was　part　of　some　game：

‘What　name　do　you　think　we　ought　to　call　it；　Dad？'

‘You　may　give　him　any　name　you　like；'　replied　Owen；　absently。

‘I　know　a　dog　that　lives　down　the　road；'　said　the　boy；　‘his　name　is　Major。　　How　would　that　do？　　Or　we　might　call　him　Sergeant。'

The　kitten；　observing　that　he　was　the　subject　of　their　conversation；　purred　loudly　and　winked　as　if　to　intimate　that　he　did　not　care　what　rank　was　conferred　upon　him　so　long　as　the　commisariat　department　was　properly　attended　to。

‘I　don't　know；　though；'　continued　Frankie；　thoughtfully。　　‘They're　all　right　names　for　dogs；　but　I　think　they're　too　big　for　a　kitten；　don't　you；　Dad？'

‘Yes；　p'raps　they　are；'　said　Owen。

‘Most　cats　are　called　Tom　or　Kitty；　but　I　don't　want　a　COMMON　name　for　him。'

‘Well；　can't　you　call　him　after　someone　you　know？'

‘I　know；　I'll　call　him　after　a　little　girl　that　comes　to　our　school；　a　fine　name；　Maud！　　That'll　be　a　good　one；　won't　it　Dad？'

‘Yes；'　said　Owen。

‘I　say；　Dad；'　said　Frankie；　suddenly　realizing　the　awful　fact　that　he　was　being　put　to　bed。　　‘You're　forgetting　all　about　my　story；　and　you　promised　that　you'd　have　a　game　of　trains　with　me　tonight。'

‘I　hadn't　forgotten；　but　I　was　hoping　that　you　had；　because　I'm　very　tired　and　it's　very　late；　long　past　your　usual　bedtime；　you　know。　　You　can　take　the　kitten　to　bed　with　you　tonight　and　I'll　tell　you　two　stories　tomorrow；　because　it's　Saturday。'

‘All　right；　then；'　said　the　boy；　contentedly；　‘and　I'll　get　the　railway　station　built　and　I'll　have　the　lines　chalked　on　the　floor；　and　the　signals　put　up　before　you　come　home；　so　that　there'll　be　no　time　wasted。　　And　I'll　put　one　chair　at　one　end　of　the　room　and　another　chair　at　the　other　end；　and　tie　some　string　across　for　telegraph　wires。　　That'll　be　a　very　good　idea；　won't　it；　Dad？'　and　Owen　agreed。

‘But　of　course　I'll　come　to　meet　you　just　the　same　as　other　Saturdays；　because　I'm　going　to　buy　a　ha'porth　of　milk　for　the　kitten　out　of　my　penny。'

After　the　child　was　in　bed；　Owen　sat　alone　by　the　table　in　the　draughty　sitting…room；　thinking。　　Although　there　was　a　bright　fire；　the　room　was　very　cold；　being　so　close　to　the　roof。　　The　wind　roared　loudly　round　the　gables；　shaking　the　house　in　a　way　that　threatened　every　moment　to　hurl　it　to　the　ground。　　The　lamp　on　the　table　had　a　green　glass　reservoir　which　was　half　full　of　oil。　　Owen　watched　this　with　unconscious　fascination。　　Every　time　a　gust　of　wind　struck　the　house　the　oil　in　the　lamp　was　agitated　and　rippled　against　the　glass　like　the　waves　of　a　miniature　sea。　　Staring　abstractedly　at　the　lamp；　he　thought　of　the　future。

A　few　years　ago　the　future　had　seemed　a　region　of　wonderful　and　mysterious　possibilities　of　good；　but　tonight　the　thought　brought　no　such　illusions；　for　he　knew　that　the　story　of　the　future　was　to　be　much　the　same　as　the　story　of　the　past。

The　story　of　the　past　would　continue　to　repeat　itself　for　a　few　years　longer。　　He　would　continue　to　work　and　they　would　all　three　continue　to　do　without　most　of　the　necessaries　of　life。　　When　there　was　no　work　they　would　starve。

For　himself　he　did　not　care　much　because　he　knew　that　at　the　best　…　or　worst　…　it　would　only　be　a　very　few　years。　　Even　if　he　were　to　have　proper　food　and　clothing　and　be　able　to　take　reasonable　care　of　himself；　he　could　not　live　much　longer；　but　when　that　time　came；　what　was　to　become　of　THEM？

There　would　be　some　hope　for　the　boy　if　he　were　more　robust　and　if　his　character　were　less　gentle　and　more　selfish。　　Under　the　present　system　it　was　impossible　for　anyone　to　succeed　in　life　without　injuring　other　people　and　treating　them　and　making　use　of　them　as　one　would　not　like　to　be　treated　and　made　use　of　oneself。

In　order　to　succeed　in　the　world　it　was　necessary　to　be　brutal；　selfish　and　unfeeling：　to　push　others　aside　and　to　take　advantage　of　their　misfortunes：　to　undersell　and　crush　out　one's　competitors　by　fair　means　or　foul：　to　consider　one's　own　interests　first　in　every　case；　absolutely　regardless　of　the　wellbeing　of　others。

That　was　the　ideal　character。　　Owen　knew　that　Frankie's　character　did　not　come　up　to　this　lofty　ideal。　　Then　there　was　Nora；　how　would　she　fare？

Owen　stood　up　and　began　walking　about　the　room；　oppressed　with　a　kind　of　terror。　　Presently　he　returned　to　the　fire　and　began　rearranging　the　clothes　that　were　drying。　　He　found　that　the　boots；　having　been　placed　too　near　the　fire；　had　dried　too　quickly　and　consequently　the　sole　of　one　of　them　had　begun　to　split　away　from　the　upper：　he　remedied　this　as　well　as　he　was　able　and　then　turned　the　wetter　parts　of　the　clothing　to　the　fire。　　Whilst　doing　this　he　noticed　the　newspaper；　which　he　had　forgotten；　in　the　coat　pocket。　　He　drew　it　out　with　an　exclamation　of　pleasure。　　Here　was　something　to　distract　his　thoughts：　if　not　instructive　or　comforting；　it　would　at　any　rate　be　interesting　and　even　amusing　to　read　the　reports　of　the　self…satisfied；　futile　talk　of　the　profound　statesmen　who　with　comical　gravity　presided　over　the　working　of　the　Great　System　which　their　combined　wisdom　pronounced　to　be　the　best　that　could　possibly　be　devised。　　But　tonight　Owen　was　not　to　read　of　those　things；　for　as　soon　as　he　opened　the　paper　his　attention　was　riveted　by　the　staring　headline　of　one　of　the　principal　columns：

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　TERRIBLE　DOMESTIC　TRAGEDY　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　Wife　And　Two　Children　Killed　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　Suicide　of　the　Murderer

It　was　one　of　the　ordinary　poverty　crimes。　　The　man　had　been　without　employment　for　many　weeks　and　they　had　been　living　by　pawning　or　selling　their　furniture　and　other　possessions。　　But　even　this　resource　must　have　failed　at　last；　and　when　one　day　the　neighbours　noticed　that　the　blinds　remained　down　and　that　there　was　a　strange　silence　about　the　house；　no　one　coming　out　or　going　in；　suspicions　that　something　was　wrong　were　quickly　aroused。　　When　the　police　entered　the　house；　they　found；　in　one　of　the　upper　rooms；　the　dead　bodies　of　the　woman　and　the　two　children；　with　their　throats　severed；　laid　out　side　by　side　upon　the　bed；　which　was　saturated　with　their　blood。

There　was　no　bedstead　and　no　furniture　in　the　room　except　the　straw　mattress　and　the　ragged　clothes　and　blankets　which　formed　the　bed　upon　the　floor。

The　man's　body　was　found　in　the　kitchen；　lying　with　outstretched　arms　face　downwards　on　the　floor；　surrounded　by　the　blood　that　had　poured　from　the　wound　in　his　throat　which　had　eviden