Robert Tressell - The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists

‘It’s not only them. There’s been bacon and eggs and cheese and other things.’

The man was beginning to become impatient.

‘Well,’ he said, ‘What else?’

‘We owe the baker eight shillings. We did owe nearly a pound, but I’ve been paying it off a little at a time.’

This was added to the list.

‘Then there’s the milkman. I’ve not paid him for four weeks. He hasn’t sent a bill yet, but you can reckon it up; we have two penn’orth every day.’

‘That’s four and eight,’ said Easton, writing it down. ‘Anything else?’

‘One and seven to the greengrocer for potatoes, cabbage, and paraffin oil.’

‘Anything else?’

‘We owe the butcher two and sevenpence.’

‘Why, we haven’t had any meat for a long time,’ said Easton. ‘When was it?’

‘Three weeks ago; don’t you remember? A small leg of mutton.’

‘Oh, yes,’ and he added the item.

‘Then there’s the instalments for the furniture and oilcloth – twelve shillings. A letter came from them today. And there’s something else.

She took three letters from the pocket of her dress and handed them to him.

‘They all came today. I didn’t show them to you before as I didn’t want to upset you before you had your tea.’

Easton drew the first letter from its envelope.

CORPORATION OF MUGSBOROUGH

General District and Special Rates

FINAL NOTICE

MR W. EASTON,

I have to remind you that the amount due from you as under, in respect of the above Rates, has not been paid, and to request that you will forward the same within Fourteen Days from this date. You are hereby informed that after this notice no further call will be made, or intimation given, before legal proceedings are taken to enforce payment.

By order of the Council.

JAMES LEAH.

Collector, No. 2 District.

The second communication was dated from the office of the Assistant Overseer of the Poor. It was also a Final Notice and was worded in almost exactly the same way as the other, the principal difference being that it was ‘By order of the Overseers’ instead of ‘the Council’. It demanded the sum of £1 1 5 1/ 2for Poor Rate within fourteen days, and threatened legal proceedings in default.

Easton laid this down and began to read the third letter –

J. DIDLUM & CO LTD.

Complete House Furnishers

QUALITY STREET, MUGSBOROUGH

MR W. EASTON,

SIR:

We have to remind you that three monthly payments of four shillings each (12/- in all) became due on the first of this month, and we must request you to let us have this amount by return of post.

Under the terms of your agreement you guaranteed that the money should be paid on the Saturday of every fourth week. To prevent unpleasantness, we must request you for the future to forward the full amount punctually upon that day.

Yours truly,

J. DIDLUM & CO. LTD

He read these communications several times in silence and finally with an oath threw them down on the table.

‘How much do we still owe for the oilcloth and the furniture?’ he asked.

‘I don’t know exactly. It was seven pound odd, and we’ve had the things about six months. We paid one pound down and three or four instalments. I’ll get you the card if you like.’

‘No; never mind. Say we’ve paid one pound twelve; so we still owe about six pound.’

He added this amount to the list.

‘I think it’s a great pity we ever had the things at all,’ he said, peevishly. ‘It would have been much better to have gone without until we could pay cash for them: but you would have your way, of course. Now we’ll have this bloody debt dragging on us for years, and before the dam stuff is paid for it’ll be worn out.’

The woman did not reply at once. She was bending down over the cradle arranging the coverings which the restless movements of the child had disordered. She was crying silently, unnoticed by her husband.

For months past – in fact ever since the child was born – she had been existing without sufficient food. If Easton was unemployed they had to stint themselves so as to avoid getting further into debt than was absolutely necessary. When he was working they had to go short in order to pay what they owed; but of what there was Easton himself, without knowing it, always had the greater share. If he was at work she would pack into his dinner basket overnight the best there was in the house. When he was out of work she often pretended, as she gave him his meals, that she had had hers while he was out. And all this time the baby was draining her life away and her work was never done.

She felt very weak and weary as she crouched there, crying furtively and trying not to let him see.

At last she said, without looking round:

‘You know quite well that you were just as much in favour of getting them as I was. If we hadn’t got the oilcloth there would have been illness in the house because of the way the wind used to come up between the floorboards. Even now of a windy day the oilcloth moves up and down.’

‘Well, I’m sure I don’t know,’ said Easton, as he looked alternatively at the list of debts and the three letters. ‘I give you nearly every farthing I earn and I never interfere about anything, because I think it’s your part to attend to the house, but it seems to me you don’t manage things properly.’

The woman suddenly burst into a passion of weeping, laying her head on the seat of the chair that was standing near the cradle.

Easton started up in surprise.

‘Why, what’s the matter?’ he said.

Then as he looked down upon the quivering form of the sobbing woman, he was ashamed. He knelt down by her, embracing her and apologizing, protesting that he had not meant to hurt her like that.

‘I always do the best I can with the money,’ Ruth sobbed. ‘I never spend a farthing on myself, but you don’t seem to understand how hard it is. I don’t care nothing about having to go without things myself, but I can’t bear it when you speak to me like you do lately. You seem to blame me for everything. You usen’t to speak to me like that before I – before – Oh, I am so tired – I am so tired, I wish I could lie down somewhere and sleep and never wake up any more.’

She turned away from him, half kneeling, half sitting on the floor, her arms folded on the seat of the chair, and her head resting upon them. She was crying in a heartbroken helpless way.

‘I’m sorry I spoke to you like that,’ said Easton, awkwardly. ‘I didn’t mean what I said. It’s all my fault. I leave things too much to you, and it’s more than you can be expected to manage. I’ll help you to think things out in future; only forgive me, I’m very sorry. I know you try your best.’

She suffered him to draw her to him, laying her head on his shoulder as he kissed and fondled her, protesting that he would rather be poor and hungry with her than share riches with anyone else.

The child in the cradle – who had been twisting and turning restlessly all this time – now began to cry loudly. The mother took it from the cradle and began to hush and soothe it, walking about the room and rocking it in her arms. The child, however, continued to scream, so she sat down to nurse it: for a little while the infant refused to drink, struggling and kicking in its mother’s arms, then for a few minutes it was quiet, taking the milk in a half-hearted, fretful way. Then it again began to scream and twist and struggle.

They both looked at it in a helpless manner. Whatever could be the matter with it? It must be those teeth.

Then suddenly as they were soothing and patting him, the child vomited all over its own and its mother’s clothing a mass of undigested food. Mingled with the curdled milk were fragments of egg, little bits of bacon, bread and particles of potato.