the ragged trousered philanthropists-第96章

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ild　enthusiasm。　　Even　Ned　Dawson；　who　had　fallen　asleep　with　his　head　pillowed　on　his　arms　on　the　table；　roused　himself　up　at　the　end　of　each　verse；　and　after　having　joined　in　the　chorus；　went　to　sleep　again。

At　the　end　of　the　song　they　gave　three　cheers　for　Tariff　Reform　and　Plenty　of　Work；　and　then　Crass；　who；　as　the　singer　of　the　last　song；　had　the　right　to　call　upon　the　next　man；　nominated　Philpot；　who　received　an　ovation　when　he　stood　up；　for　he　was　a　general　favourite。　He　never　did　no　harm　to　nobody；　and　he　was　always　wiling　to　do　anyone　a　good　turn　whenever　he　had　the　opportunity。　　Shouts　of　‘Good　old　Joe'　resounded　through　the　room　as　he　crossed　over　to　the　piano；　and　in　response　to　numerous　requests　for　‘The　old　song'　he　began　to　sing　‘The　Flower　Show'：

　　　　　　　　‘Whilst　walkin'　out　the　other　night；　not　knowing　where　to　go　　　　　　　　　I　saw　a　bill　upon　a　wall　about　a　Flower　Show。

　　　　　　　　So　I　thought　the　flowers　I'd　go　and　see　to　pass　away　the　night。　　　　　　　　　And　when　I　got　into　that　Show　it　was　a　curious　sight。　　　　　　　　　So　with　your　kind　intention　and　a　little　of　your　aid；　　　　　　　　　Tonight　some　flowers　I'll　mention　which　I　hope　will　never　fade。'

　　　　　　　　Omnes：　　　　　　　　　To…night　some　flowers　I'll　mention　which　I　hope　will　never　fade。'

There　were　several　more　verses；　from　which　it　appeared　that　the　principal　flowers　in　the　Show　were　the　Rose；　the　Thistle　and　the　Shamrock。

When　he　had　finished；　the　applause　was　so　deafening　and　the　demands　for　an　encore　so　persistent　that　to　satisfy　them　he　sang　another　old　favourite　…　‘Won't　you　buy　my　pretty　flowers？'

　　　　　　　　‘Ever　coming；　ever　going；　　　　　　　　　Men　and　women　hurry　by；　　　　　　　　　Heedless　of　the　tear…drops　gleaming；　　　　　　　　　In　her　sad　and　wistful　eye　　　　　　　　　How　her　little　heart　is　sighing　　　　　　　　　Thro'　the　cold　and　dreary　hours；　　　　　　　　　Only　listen　to　her　crying；　　　　　　　　　〃Won't　you　buy　my　pretty　flowers？〃'

When　the　last　verse　of　this　sang　had　been　sung　five　er　six　times；　Philpot　exercised　his　right　of　nominating　the　next　singer；　and　called　upon　Dick　Wantley；　who　with　many　suggestive　gestures　and　grimaces　sang　‘Put　me　amongst　the　girls'；　and　afterwards　called　upon　Payne；　the　foreman　carpenter；　who　gave　‘I'm　the　Marquis　of　Camberwell　Green'。

There　was　a　lot　of　what　music…hall　artists　call　‘business'　attached　to　his　song；　and　as　he　proceeded；　Payne；　who　was　ghastly　pale　and　very　nervous；　went　through　a　lot　of　galvanic　motions　and　gestures；　bowing　and　scraping　and　sliding　about　and　flourishing　his　handkerchief　in　imitation　of　the　courtly　graces　of　the　Marquis。　　During　this　performance　the　audience　maintained　an　appalling　silence；　which　so　embarrassed　Payne　that　before　he　was　half…way　through　the　song　he　had　to　stop　because　he　could　not　remember　the　rest。　　However；　to　make　up　for　this　failure　he　sang　another　called　‘We　all　must　die；　like　the　fire　in　the　grate'。　　This　also　was　received　in　a　very　lukewarm　manner　by　the　crowd；　same　of　whom　laughed　and　others　suggested　that　if　he　couldn't　sing　any　better　than　that；　the　sooner　HE　was　dead　the　better。

This　was　followed　by　another　Tory　ballad；　the　chorus　being　as　follows：

　　　　　　　　His　clothes　may　be　ragged；　his　hands　may　be　soiled。　　　　　　　　　But　where's　the　disgrace　if　for　bread　he　has　toiled。　　　　　　　　　His　'art　is　in　the　right　place；　deny　it　no　one　can　　　　　　　　　The　backbone　of　Old　England　is　the　honest　workin'　man。'

After　a　few　more　songs　it　was　decided　to　adjourn　to　a　field　at　the　rear　of　the　tavern　to　have　a　game　of　cricket。　　Sides　were　formed；　Rushton；　Didlum；　Grinder；　and　the　other　gentlemen　taking　part　just　as　if　they　were　only　common　people；　and　while　the　game　was　in　progress　the　rest　played　ring　quoits　or　reclined　on　the　grass　watching　the　players；　whilst　the　remainder　amused　themselves　drinking　beer　and　playing　cards　and　shove…ha'penny　in　the　bar　parlour；　or　taking　walks　around　the　village　sampling　the　beer　at　the　other　pubs；　of　which　there　were　three。

The　time　passed　in　this　manner　until　seven　o'clock；　the　hour　at　which　it　had　been　arranged　to　start　on　the　return　journey；　but　about　a　quarter　of　an　hour　before　they　set　out　an　unpleasant　incident　occurred。

During　the　time　that　they　were　playing　cricket　a　party　of　glee　singers；　consisting　of　four　young　girls　and　five　men；　three　of　whom　were　young　fellows；　the　other　two　being　rather　elderly；　possibly　the　fathers　of　some　of　the　younger　members　of　the　party；　came　into　the　field　and　sang　several　part　songs　for　their　entertainment。　　Towards　the　close　of　the　game　most　of　the　men　had　assembled　in　this　field；　and　during　a　pause　in　the　singing　the　musicians　sent　one　of　their　number；　a　shy　girl　about　eighteen　years　of　age　…　who　seemed　as　if　she　would　rather　that　someone　else　had　the　task　…　amongst　the　crowd　to　make　a　collection。　　The　girl　was　very　nervous　and　blushed　as　she　murmured　her　request；　and　held　out　a　straw　hat　that　evidently　belonged　to　one　of　the　male　members　of　the　glee　party。　　A　few　of　the　men　gave　pennies；　some　refused　or　pretended　not　to　see　either　the　girl　or　the　hat；　others　offered　to　give　her　some　money　for　a　kiss；　but　what　caused　the　trouble　was　that　two　or　three　of　those　who　had　been　drinking　more　than　was　good　for　them　dropped　the　still　burning　ends　of　their　cigars；　all　wet　with　saliva　as　they　were；　into　the　hat　and　Dick　Wantley　spit　into　it。

The　girl　hastily　returned　to　her　companions；　and　as　she　went　some　of　the　men　who　had　witnessed　the　behaviour　of　those　who　had　insulted　her；　advised　them　to　make　themselves　scarce；　as　they　stood　a　good　chance　of　getting　a　thrashing　from　the　girl's　friends。　　They　said　it　would　serve　them　dam'　well　right　if　they　did　get　a　hammering。

Partly　sobered　by　fear；　the　three　culprits　sneaked　off　and　hid　themselves；　pale　and　trembling　with　terror；　under　the　box　seats　of　the　three　brakes。　　They　had　scarcely　left　when　the　men　of　the　glee　party　came　running　up；　furiously　demanding　to　see　those　who　had　insulted　the　girl。　　As　they　could　get　no　satisfactory　answer；　one　of　their　number　ran　back　and　presently　returned；　bringing　the　girl　with　him；　the　other　young　women　following　a　little　way　behind。

She　said　she　could　not　see　the　men　they　were　looking　for；　so　they　went　down　to　the　public　house　to　see　if　they　could　find　them　there；　some　of　the　Rushton's　men　accompanying　them　and　protesting　their　indignation。



The　time　passed　quickly　enough　and　by　half　past　seven　the　brakes　were　loaded　up　again　and　a　start　made　for　the　return　journey。

They　called　at　all　the　taverns　on　the　road；　and　by　the　time　they　reached　the　Blue　Lion　half　of　them　were　three　sheets　in　the　wind；　and　five　or　six　were　very　drunk；　including　the　driver　of　Crass's　brake　and　the　man　with　the　bugle。　　The　latter　was　so　far　gone　that　they　had　to　let　him　lie　down　in　the　bottom　of　the　carriage　amongst　their　feet；　where　he　fell　asleep；　while　the　others　amused　themselves　by　blowing　weird　shrieks　out　of　the　horn。

There　was　an　automatic　penny…in…the…slot　piano　at　the　Blue　Lion　and　as　that　was　the　last　house　of　the　road　they　made　a　rather　long　stop　there；　playing　hooks　and　rings；　shove…ha'penny；　drinking；　singing；　dancing　and　finally　quarrelling。

Several　of　them　seemed　disposed　to　quarrel　with　Newman。　　All　sorts　of　offensive　remarks　were　made　at　him　in　his　hearing。　　Once　someone　ostentatiously　knocked　his　glass　of　lemonade　over；　and　a　little　later　someone　else　collided　violently　with　him　just　as　he　was　in　the　act　of　drinking；　causing　his　lemonade　to　spill　all　over　his　clothes。　　The　worst　of　it　was　that　most　of　these　rowdy　ones　were　his　fellow　passengers　in　Crass's　brake；　and　there　was　not　much　chance　of　getting　a　seat　in　either　of　the　other　carriages；　for　they　were　overcrowded　already。

From　the　remarks　he　overheard　from　time　to　time；　Newman　guessed　the　reason　of　their　hostility；　and　as　their　manner　towards　him　grew　more　menacing；　he　became　so　nervous　that　he　began　to　think　of　quietly　sneaking　off　and　walking　the　remainder　of　the　way　home　by　himself；　unless　he　could　get　somebody　in　one　of　the　other　brakes　to　change　seats　with　him。

Whilst　these　thoughts　were　agitating　his　mind；　Dick　Wantley　suddenly　shouted　out　that　he　was　going　to　go　for　the　dirty　tyke　who　had　offered　to　work　under　price　last　winter。

It　was　his　fault　that　they　were　all　working　for　sixpence　halfpenny　and　he　was　going　to　wipe　the　floor　with　him。　　Some　of　his　friends　eagerly　offered　to　assist；　but　others　interposed；　and　for　a　time　it　looked　as　if　there　was　going　to　be　a　free　fight；　the　aggressors　struggling　hard　to　get　at　their　inoffensive　victim。

Eventually；　however；　Newman　found　a　seat　in　Misery's　brake；　squatting　on　the　floor　with　his　back　to　the　horses；　thankful　enough　to　be　out　of　reach　of　the　drunken　savages；　who　were　now　roaring　out　ribald　songs　and　startling　the　countryside；　as　they　drove　along；　with　unearthly　blasts　on　the　coach　horn。

Meantime；　although　none　of　them　seemed　to　notice　it；　the　brake　was　travelling　at　a　furious　rate；　and　swaying　about　from　side　to　side　in　a　very　erratic　manner。　　It　would　have　been　the　last　carriage；　but　things　had　got　a　bit　mixed　at　the　Blue　Lion　and；　instead　of　bringing　up　the　rear　of　the　procession；　it　was　now　second；　just　behind　the　small　vehicle　containing　Rushton　and　his　friends。

Crass　several　times　reminded　them　that　the　other　carriage　was　so　near　that　Rushton　must　be　able　to　hear　every　word　that　was　said；　and　these　repeated　admonitions　at　length　enraged　the　Semi…drunk；　who　shouted　out　that　they　didn't　care　a　br　if　he　could　hear。　　Who　the　bloody　hell　was　he？　　To　hell　with　him！

‘Damn　Rushton；　and　you　too！'　cried　Bill　Bates；　addressing　Crass。　‘You're　only　a　dirty　toe…rag！　　That's　all　you　are　…　a　bloody　rotter！　That's　the　only　reason　you　gets　put　in　charge　of　jobs　…　'cos　you're　a　good　nigger…driver！　　You're　a　bloody　sight　worse　than　Rushton　or　Misery　either！　　Who　was　it　started　the　one…man；　one…room　dodge；　eh？　Why；　you；　yer　bleeder！'

‘Knock　'im　orf　'is　bleedin'　perch；'　suggested　Bundy。

Everybody　seemed　to　think　this　was　a　very　good　idea；　but　when　the　Semi…drunk　attempted　to　rise　for　the　purpose　of　carrying　it　out；　he　was　thrown　down　by　a　sudden　lurch　of　the　carriage　on　the　top　of　the　prostrate　figure　of　the　bugle　man　and　by　the　time　the　others　had　assisted　him　back　to　his　seat　they　had　forgotten　all　about　their　plan　of　getting　rid　of　Crass。

Meantime　the　speed　of　the　vehicle　had　increased　to　a　fearful　rate。

Rushton　and　the　other　occupants　of　the　little　wagonette　in　front　had　been　for　some　time　shouting　to　them　to　moderate　the　pace　of　their　horses；　but　as　the　driver　of　Crass's　brake　was　too　drunk　to　understand　what　they　said　he　took　no　notice；　and　they　had　no　alternative　but　to　increase　their　own　speed　to　avoid　being　run　down。　　The　drunken　driver　now　began　to　imagine　that　they　were　trying　to　race　him；　and　became　fired　with　the　determination　to　pass　them。　　It　was　a　very　narrow　road；　but　there　was　just　about　room　to　do　it；　and　he　had　sufficient　confidence　in　his　own　skill　with　the　ribbons　to　believe　that　he　could　get　past　in　safety。

The　terrified　gesticulations　and　the　shouts　of　Rushton's　party　only　served　to　infuriate　him；　because　he　imagined　that　they　were　jeering　at　him　for　not　being　able　to　overtake　them。　　He　stood　up　on　the　footboard　and　lashed　the　horses　till　they　almost　flew　over　the　ground；　while　the　carriage　swayed　and　skidded