CHAPTER II.

NEW WORK.

THE bell was ringing for school, and Letty hurrying down the last mouthful of bread and dripping before starting, when Winny opened her eyes the next morning.

"Just in time to say good-bye!" exclaimed Letty, running over to kiss her before starting for school.

"Is it so late as that, mother?" said the invalid, looking round the room as she raised herself on her elbow.

"Yes, deary; you did not sleep well in the night, I suppose? See what Annie Brown brought for you a little while ago." And as she spoke, Mrs. Chaplin held up a slice of toast. "Buttered toast," she explained; "and I've got a nice drop of tea for you in the pot. You shall have your breakfast before I dress you."

Buttered toast was a luxury that did not often find its way to the Chaplin's room, unless brought by a neighbour, and it was an unwritten law in the house that if one of them did have a little delicacy of any kind, Winny was to share it. But where every one was so poor and had such a hard struggle for daily bread, it was not often that such chances occurred, and Winny wondered as she munched her toast where Annie could have got it from.

Before the room was made tidy for the day, there came a knock at the door, and a tall slatternly girl put her head in the next moment.

"Can you sew some sacks for mother and get 'em done to-night?" asked a gruff voice, but the towsled head was nodded in a pleasant manner towards Winny, and she said, "I've heard about you though you don't know me."

"No, I don't think I do," said Mrs. Chaplin. "But I shall be glad to do the sacks," she added quickly, for this chance of earning a few pence was most providential.

"I told mother you'd do 'em. I'll bring 'em over directly." And with another nod towards Winny, the girl shut the door and ran downstairs.

"I wonder who she can be," said Winny. "She seemed to think she knew me, but I have never seen her before."

"No, I suppose not; but I have seen her going up and down the street with a pile of sacks on her head, so I suppose they do a lot of that work and they're pretty busy now."

Winny did all she could towards her own dressing in the thick long frock that her mother had made for her to wear in the day-time, and then she was settled on her little couch, where she could see to read or look out at the children playing in the back yard, while her mother put the bed away and was in readiness to begin upon the sacks when the girl brought them.

"You'll be sure to let us have them all done by ten o'clock to-night," she said when she dropped her bundle on the floor.

Mrs. Chaplin looked at the pile of coarse sacking, and wondered whether she could get through so much in the time. She had sewed sacks before, and knew that it was hard work, and could not be got through very quickly, and so she said: "What time have these got to go in?"

"Eight o'clock to-morrow morning," replied the girl, with her eyes still fixed upon Winny.

"Well, I'll promise this: all the sacks I can get done by eight o'clock to-night my husband shall bring over, and I will sit up and do the rest so that you shall have them by seven to-morrow. Will that do?" asked Mrs. Chaplin rather anxiously.

"From you it will," said the girl with a grin. And with another nod to Winny, she shut the door and ran downstairs.

A needle and string for sewing were sent with the sacks, and so Mrs. Chaplin sat down at once to her task.

"We shall get the rent now, mother, sha'n't we?" said Winny eagerly. "I was sure God would help us somehow," she added in a tone of glad triumph when her mother, after a careful calculation, thought she might put away another shilling towards it out of the sack sewing.

But she had not been at this long, when there came another tap at the door. But it was not pushed open until Mrs. Chaplin had called out "Come in!"

Then a sad, weary-looking girl about Winny's age, but well and comfortably dressed, timidly opened the door and stood for a minute looking round the room.

"It's Miss Rutter, Winny," said her mother by way of breaking the silence and introducing the girls.

"Mother wants you to come and clean up a bit for her," said the visitor with a wistful look at Winny.

"Dear me, now, isn't that tiresome!" exclaimed Mrs. Chaplin. "I never had a stroke of work all the week till yesterday, and didn't expect none to-day, so was glad enough of these sacks. What am I to do? It would pay me a deal better to come and do a day's work for your mother, but you see I have promised to get these sacks done."

"Oh, leave them," said the girl lightly. "I'll tell mother about it and she shall make it up to you."

"But the sacks are promised for to-night or to-morrow morning," interposed Winny. "Mother could not break her word about them. Could you, mother?" she added appealing to her.

Mrs. Chaplin looked dubious. The temptation to send the sacks back now this other work had come was a strong one, but glancing at Winny's anxious face, the mother felt half ashamed of the thought that had come to her, and with a sigh, she said: "Tell your mother I'm very sorry can't come to-day. If I'd only known it last night or an hour ago I'd have come, and been glad of it. But, you see, having promised these sacks, I can't disappoint the person or she may lose the work."

"But mother's so poorly, Mrs. Chaplin. Father's been going on again about the money we spend, and the rent people owe him, that—that—" and here the girl burst into tears. "Mother can't clean up the place, and father whitewashed the parlour last night, so that it's all in a dreadful mess."

Mrs. Chaplin looked at the girl pityingly. She knew what a hard man her father was, and that her mother, weak and delicate, was unable to do the rough work of the household and attend to the lodgers, so she said: "Couldn't you shut up the parlour for to-day, and I will be round first thing in the morning—be there as soon as your father has gone to the docks, and I'll have it all straight and get away before he comes home at dinner-time?"

"I'll go and ask mother if that will do and come back and let you know," said the girl, somewhat relieved by this suggestion.

"Does Mr. Rutter work at the docks?" asked Winny in some surprise.

"Yes; he's got a rare good place there," replied her mother with something like a sigh of envy. "He was made foreman five or six years ago, and they've a nice home and bought a lot of houses since."

"But it don't seem to have made Miss Rutter very happy," remarked Winny, recalling what her father had said, and her own thoughts during the night, upon the matter of dock foremen and how they grew rich.

"Well, I don't know that any of them have been much the happier for their money now I come to think of it. They used to live next door to us years ago, and Rutter wasn't a bad sort of man in his way then, but since he's begun to get on a bit, he seems to think of nothing but how he can make more money. When he ain't at work in the docks he's worrying over his books at home, and they say the men under him hate him, and if they can do him an ill turn, they never lose the chance of letting him see what they think about him."

"Why, mother, it's better to be poor than to be rich like that," said Winny quickly. "I'd rather be as we are than have everybody hating father, and—"

"Well, but Mr. Rutter ain't obliged to be so hard and disagreeable," interrupted her mother; "he wasn't always so."

"No; but, don't you see, he's got to love money better than anything else now. He used to think about neighbours and friends once in a friendly way, but he's got to think so much of his contracts and how much money he can make by them that he forgets everything else, and God won't let the man be happy or comfortable who thinks of nothing else but making money."

But Mrs. Chaplin shook her head dissentingly. "I don't know so much about that," she said. "It's a shame that the Rutters don't make themselves more comfortable, for they've got everything to do it with; and yet my heart aches sometimes for the poor thing, she seems to have got so afraid of her husband lately."

"And that poor girl, too—Lizzie isn't it? I had almost forgotten her, mother; she looks more like an old woman than a girl."

"Yes, she does. But I don't wonder you have forgotten her. The Rutters always did hold their heads very high, and when they moved into a bigger house, Mr. Rutter forbid them having anything to do with old friends. He wanted everybody to forget what he had been, and to set up for something better than a dock hand."

While she was talking, the needle was driven in and out of the stubborn sacking, for if the sacks were all to be finished in time, she must sit closely to her task.

When Letty came in, she went to get two pints of soup at the mission-hall in the neighbourhood, and by this means, Mrs. Chaplin and the girls could have a warm nourishing meal without loss of time, for this was a consideration to-day.

When dinner was over and the table cleared, Letty sat down to sew at one of the sacks. Winny would have liked to do the same, but it was impossible for her to attempt such heavy work. But if ever she was tempted to repine at her helpless condition, it was under such circumstances as these, when every stitch made some difference in the task, and yet she could do nothing to help.

"Mother, I could read to you this afternoon," she suddenly said, her face brightening at the thought. "I've got a book here Miss Lavender brought me last week."

"Haven't you read it?" asked her mother.

"Yes; but I shall enjoy reading it again to you, mother."

"Oh! I couldn't read a book over again that I had just finished," said Letty. "I should hate doing that."

"Not if you wanted to help mother," said her sister.

Letty shrugged her shoulders. "I like to read to myself best," she said; "and if you like, I'll take that book to be changed when I come home from school. Miss Lavender said she would change it for us to-day if you liked."

"Oh, but I sha'n't be done with it. I couldn't read it all to mother this afternoon," replied Winny.

"And I shall want you to get the tea, and do a bit more sewing at the sacks when you come home from school, Letty," said her mother.

"It hurts my fingers. I don't think I can do any more," replied Letty with a pout.

"It hurts mine too, but I am too glad to get the work to grumble about it, and you will have to learn to do the same, my girl."

Letty sighed. "Don't you wish we had a lot of money, Winny?" she said. "If father was a foreman, now."

"No! No! I don't want father to be a foreman," hastily interrupted her sister. "What we've got to wish and pray for is that things may be altered, that the men may be able to do their work as father says they ought—taking an interest in it, so as to do it carefully and well. And that the foremen may not merely think of making them work as hard as possible for as little as possible, just as though they were horses and not men at all. The foremen might not make so much money then, but they will be happier and better with a little."

"I hope it will be a little more than father has, then," interrupted Letty with a shrug of the shoulders. For the idea of people not being happy when they have plenty to eat, warm clothes to wear, and no rent to worry about, was something too wonderful for her to comprehend. "Do you think we should be better as we are, mother?" she asked incredulously.

"But, don't you see, Letty, that if things were altered the way father was talking about last night, it would be better for us, and we should be a little better off, and father would be able to do his work better too. It would be fairer altogether, for now as it is, the foremen complain of the labourers and they complain of the foremen, and nobody is satisfied. Of course God could not let people be happy and content if they got their money unfairly, as it seems to me some do now, and I am sure He will have it altered somehow, now that men have begun to think how wrong it is. Nobody thought much about it till lately, but now He has begun to speak to men's hearts about it, He will soon teach them how to make things better. Of course if this could be done, I should be glad enough for father to be made a foreman, for then he would have regular wages, and then we might have a front room to live in, and I could look out of the window sometimes."

Mrs. Chaplin sighed. "We would have a front room if father could only earn a shilling or two more a week," she said looking at the white face before her, and thinking what a long time it was since she had seen anything beyond those four walls. Little wonder was it that she longed for their removal to a front room, where a peep into the street might be had sometimes to break the monotony of her life.

If Winny had any such longing herself, she carefully put it aside, lest it should be a source of trouble to her mother. And for that afternoon at least, they were as happy as though they possessed as good an income as the Rutters. For Winny read the story-book lent her by her teacher, and in this second perusal, enjoyed it almost more than the first time, for she had her mother's sympathy in her pleasure, and the afternoon passed all too quickly for both of them.

If only the sacks were nearer completion, Mrs. Chaplin would have felt almost merry, so much had her heart been lightened by the reading and talk she had had with Winny.

But the exertion had been almost too much for the poor girl; her strength was not equal to such a long spell of reading, although she had been almost unaware of her weakness until Letty came in, and it grew too dark for her to read any longer. Then she fell back on her pillow, feeling as though she would like to slip out of the body that was so full of aches and pains, and leave it there like a worn-out garment for which she had no further use.

But when her father came in, and she saw his sad eyes turned eagerly towards her corner, she knew that for him it would be very bitter to miss meeting her smile when he came home from work, and so she put away the wish as something not to be thought of just now.

By and by, perhaps, when somebody had found out a way of helping dockers and foremen both, she could better be spared, but not just now. So, conquering her faintness, she said in a cheerful tone: "See how busy mother is; we shall have the rent ready now, father."

"Sacks!" remarked Chaplin in a little surprise, looking down at the heap he had almost stumbled over.

"It's hard work, but I was glad enough to get it this morning," said his wife, looking up inquiringly at her husband. She was afraid to ask what he had earned that day, for she could see by the despairing look in his eyes that he had very little, and to-morrow was Saturday too, when there would be less chance of getting a job.

So she put aside her own fears and anxieties, and said in a cheerful tone, "I must get these in by seven o'clock to-morrow, and then go to Mrs. Rutter's for half a day's work."

The man looked at the work in his wife's hand. "Couldn't I do a bit of that for you so as to give you a rest?" he said a little wistfully.

"I've been wishing I could help mother," said Winny, smiling at the thought of her father using a needle, while Letty burst out laughing at the suggestion.

"Oh! You may laugh," he said, feeling greatly relieved to hear of this influx of work. "I mean to let you see what I can do after tea. Put it down, mother, and give us some tea, and then Letty and I will try sack sewing. Never fear but what we will got them done between us."

During tea, he told of his day's experience, which did not vary much from that of the day before, except that the hour's work he had got had prevented him from reaching another place in time to get a longer spell of work, as he might have done if he had gone there first. This was another grievance that the men had to complain of, and one that a little forethought and management might prevent.

"Perhaps these things may all be set right one day, father," said Winny. "And when they are, mother says we shall have a front room, so that I can look out into the street sometimes."

"We'll have two rooms," announced Chaplin; "and I'm not so sure but what we may try to get things put right a bit. The chap that comes talking to us at the gates of a morning says it could be done easy enough if we'd only just make up our minds to hold together. Two days I've been tramping and working for just tenpence!" And as he spoke, he took the halfpence he had earned out of his pocket, and laid it on the table as though he was half ashamed of it.

"Father, don't you think that, now God has put it into people's hearts to think about this, and to say it ought to be altered, it will be somehow?" asked Winny earnestly.

Chaplin scratched his head. He believed in God, of course; he went to the mission services sometimes with his wife, but he never thought of God as being close at hand and directing the affairs of men as Winny did, and so he looked rather uncomfortably into the fire now he was asked to give an answer to such a direct question.

"I don't think they consider those things much down at the docks," he said slowly.

"Perhaps not, but that would not hinder God from working. Don't you see, somebody might be praying about it, and thoughts might be put into different people's minds about the same thing; and then, if a great many people said it must be altered—well, if they don't think about such things down at the docks, they would still have to do as God was telling them, because the people would make them."

"Bravo, Winny!" said her father. "That's just it, my lass. So you have been praying to God about this thing, have you? Well, well, keep on, and who knows what may come of it? The chap that comes to talk to us about standing shoulder to shoulder don't say nothing about God putting the idea into his heart, but that ain't to say that it isn't so, for God works in more hearts maybe than we think for; but about all of us thinking alike about this, why, that's just what he says must be done before we can make any stir in matter."

"Will there have to be a stir?" asked his wife timidly.

"Aye! That there will, my lass, and a mighty stir too before we get all we want. But, as our Winny says, the first thing is to get the men to think alike about what they want."

"But there won't be a strike?" said poor Mrs. Chaplin with a shiver. She knew by bitter experience what a strike meant, what hunger and cold, what a giving up of treasured household goods, and the desolate homes that it left behind.

"We won't have no strike if we can help it. What we must do is to make up our minds to stand shoulder to shoulder, and when the dock companies see that, why, of course, they will hear our complaints, and make some alterations."

"But suppose they shouldn't?" said his wife.

Chaplin could see the dread in her face, and hastened to allay her fears. "We won't strike till we're compelled," he said. "Our Winny won't forget to tell God all about it; and, look here, mother, if the worst comes to the worst, why, don't you see that God will know we're just doing it for bare life, and he'll take care of us?"

"Yes! Yes! Father, that he will," said Winny. "And then we shall be able to get a front room and live happy ever afterwards."

Such a prospect as a front room, or better still, two rooms to live in, was worth any struggle, and looking at his Winny as he awkwardly pushed the needle in and out, Chaplin determined to give his name in the next day as one who would join in the demand that was to be made for better terms for the labourers.