CHAPTER VI.

ONE WINDY MORNING.

ANNIE went to wander in cool green country lanes or pleasant sunny meadows, while Winny was left to pant and stifle in the heat of those June days, sometimes too tired and languid to eat the bread and dripping, which was all her mother could afford to get for her dinner five days out of the seven. But she never regretted the sacrifice she had made.

After the first week in July, the weather changed and was much cooler. Rain fell nearly every day, and work at the docks seemed to grow slacker, and the struggle for bare existence more keen among the workers.

But there was something more than this going on among the men, Mrs. Chaplin felt sure. She forgot her vexation about Annie Brown having Winny's holiday ticket in the uneasiness she felt about her husband.

There was a change in Chaplin that his wife and others could not help noticing.

He gradually became more alert, and carried himself less slouchingly as he walked. He stood upright and gazed round him as though he had the right to look up at the sky, and he was not the only one either that put on a brisker air. Brown began to talk in a louder and more aggressive tone, and often spoke of what they heard at the dock gates, with sundry hints and whispers that "people would hear something by and by."

"It's neither more nor less than a strike that they're thinking of, I do believe," said poor Mrs. Chaplin with a groan when she was talking to her friend Mrs. Rutter about these varied signs of some stir being on foot among the men.

"Strike? Dock labourers strike? Why, I have heard my poor dear husband say they fought like wild beasts against each other to get the chance of being taken on for an hour."

"Yes, and I have heard that the foremen don't care to have too many regular hands, but prefer to have a hundred or two waiting round the gate that they can pick from whenever they want a fresh batch of hands." Mrs. Chaplin spoke resentfully, for she did not like the insinuation about her husband fighting for work like a "wild beast." "If everything was done fair and square at the docks, some would get a little more and others a good deal less," she added.

"I don't know anything about that," said Mrs. Rutter a little tartly. "But you ought to tell Chaplin not to be talked into any foolish scheme of striking for higher wages, for I can tell you this, they could get men at them gates to work for twopence an hour if they wanted 'em. I've heard my poor dear say so many a time."

Mrs. Rutter always spoke of her husband as her "poor dear" now. She had plucked up a little more spirit and did not look quite so miserable as she used to do, but still she was far from being a happy woman.

Her husband had left her comfortably provided for so far as money went, but she was haunted with a fear that her money would all be spent and she would be left in want if she was not very careful.

Every day saw her grow more miserly, and she was constantly reminding Lizzie that she had no father to work for her now, and so they ought not to spend a penny more than they could possibly help for fear they should come to want by and by.

This mention of something like a strike being likely to take place among those who were her tenants made Mrs. Rutter very anxious, and the worst of it was, she could get no definite information about what was going on.

It is doubtful whether at that time anybody knew definitely what was likely to be done. Everybody know there was a mighty stir of thought beneath the surface, but what it portended none could tell.

When the time came for Annie to return, her father had a letter from her asking if she might stay to pick fruit. She had been offered work at a fruit-grower's close to where she had been staying, and if her father would agree to it, she thought she would like to stay till the end of the season.

Brown brought the letter for Winny to read, for he had heard by this time to whom he was indebted for the opportunity his daughter had of retrieving her character, and he could not do enough for the girl who had thus sacrificed her only means of regaining health and strength that his "little un" might have another chance in life.

So it was with a sort of tender reverence that he always came in to ask how Winny was, and he regarded it as her right to see the letter that had come from Annie and give her opinion upon it.

"Oh! I think it will be first-rate for her," she said when she could make out what the badly spelled words really meant. "Why, she will be earning more money in the country than she could here, and I heard to-day that work was slack at the factory."

"So you think she'd better stay?" said Brown scratching his head as was usual with him when he was in doubt about anything.

"Don't you think so too?" asked Winny looking up at him with a meaning smile.

"Well, if we do make up our minds to stand shoulder to shoulder like men and not act like wild beasts, why, the fewer mouths there are to fill the better," said Brown with a sigh, for he had been looking forward to this time, and he could not help feeling disappointed to find that Annie was not in such a hurry to return as he had expected. The days had passed more slowly with him than they seemed to have passed with Annie.

"If there should be a strike, as you and father seem to think may have to be before things can be altered at the docks, why, Annie could send you some of her money to help you," said Winny.

"So she could, my lass. But we won't tell her what we think of doing or else she'll want to come home and look after me, for I'm a rum customer when I'm put out, and Annie knows it too."

"Ah! But you will surely remember how poor Annie suffered through getting into a temper. Father says that is the greatest danger of all, for if the men get wild and riotous if they can't get what they want at once, then it will all be spoiled. You will tell the men this, won't you? Father says you are a sort of a leader among the roughest of the men, and what you do, they will do. I pray to God about it every night, Mr. Brown, ever since father first told me about it. I have asked God to help the men somehow, and I feel sure he will if they will help too, but they must all be steady and sober."

"My lass, I haven't touched a drop since I joined the temperance people down at the mission room. I don't say I fancied it much at first, but after I knowed what you'd give up for my 'little un,' why, how could I go agin anything you asked me to do? If you said, 'Go and get me the top brick off the chimbley,' why, I should feel bound to have a shy at it for you."

It was quite a long speech for Brown to make, and Winny laughed aloud at his offer. There was no time to say more about what was going on among the men at the dock gates, for her mother came in, and Winny was eager to tell her the news about Annie.

But Mrs. Chaplin was very cool about the matter; she could not forget that Winny herself might have had this chance, and Brown saw it.

"There ain't another gal in London as could ha' done such a thing as Winny has done for my gal," he said fervently. "I don't wonder as you feels bad about it sometimes; it's nat'ral like, being as you are her mother," he said excusingly.

"I'm glad to find you see it in that way, Mr. Brown," said Mrs. Chaplin icily, "and if ever you have the chance of doing her a good turn, you won't forget it, I hope," she added.

"I won't," said Brown with as much solemnity as though he was taking an oath.

"Do you know what the men are going to do?" asked Mrs. Chaplin, for she had made up her mind how he ought to help Winny and all of them, and meant to tell him so.

"No; I don't think anybody knows," replied Brown twirling his cap and wishing himself well out of the room.

But Mrs. Chaplin had heard that this man, unlikely as it seemed to her, was regarded as a sort of leader, and so she determined to get him to promise her his help. "Now, I want you to help us this way, Mr. Brown. Just tell the men to give up all foolish notions about being able to get up a strike. I know what strikes are, and I know this, if these foolish men strike, we shall all be starved to death in a week."

"Never while Jack Brown has got two arms on his body, and can remember what this lass here has done for his 'little un.' No, no, I'll never see you or yours starve while I've got a hand to help you."

"What's all this about?" asked a voice from the doorway, and the next minute Chaplin walked into the room looking very weary, and laying down his day's earnings of fivepence. He seldom got hired for more than an hour now, for by that time his strength was exhausted, he was so weak from insufficient food.

Brown knew the signs of slow starvation, and saw the money that his neighbour put down on the table, and recalled the time when Winny had sent him the cold mutton for tea. Although he, too, had a hard fight to make ends meet sometimes, still he was better off than most, for he had only himself to think of, and he had earned four times as much as Chaplin, just because he had been able to get better food, and was therefore stronger and able to stand four hours' work.

So laying a shilling on the table he said, "I want you to let me have my bit of tea with you. I ain't got no kettle boiling, and if you don't mind me taking it along of you, I could pay that for it."

But Mrs. Chaplin looked dubious, and glanced at her husband for a moment. Brown was not the sort of person she cared to associate with, unless she herself was the bestower of the favour. But her pride melted before the look in her husband's face, and she eagerly took up the shilling.

"Yes, you shall have tea with us, and I'm much obliged for the help; I'll go myself and get something for you," she added.

It was one of the hardships of this way of living that no provision in the way of a cheap nourishing meal could be prepared beforehand, or at least very rarely, and so now that Mrs. Chaplin had got a shilling to spend, her first thought was to go to the butcher and get a pound of steak. This was what most housewives did when they could indulge in the luxury of a piece of meat.

But Mrs. Chaplin reflected that a pound of steak would swallow up nearly all her money, and that if she got some bread and dripping for the tea, she might get a more nourishing and tasty meal for supper. So instead of the steak to fry, she bought some pieces of meat to stew, and some oatmeal to boil with it. This with a pennyworth of vegetables would make a savoury dish that all might enjoy.

It must be confessed that Chaplin looked a little disappointed when he found that they were not going to have the expected treat. But tea and dripping toast reconciled him to the change, and Brown was invited to have hot supper with them as well as tea for his shilling.

While Letty made the toast, her mother put the stew on, for it would require two or three hours' cooking, and then they sat down to tea. There was a meeting for the men to attend at the mission-hall, and the supper was to be ready by the time they came home.

The night had turned out cold and wet, so that Winny enjoyed the unwonted luxury of a bit of fire, for they rarely lighted one now except to boil the kettle. Soon after nine, the men came in to their supper, both eager and excited over the news they had heard since they had left the mission room. A ship would reach the docks about one o'clock in the morning, and so the few who were in the secret of a telegram being sent might hope for a few hours' work at least.

"Things couldn't have happened better, Mrs. Chaplin," said Brown rubbing his hands as he smelt the savoury stew that was just ready to turn out. It was a hotch-potch of meat, vegetables and oatmeal, warm and nourishing, and easy of digestion, and the two men looked as eager and pleased over the unusual luxury of a hot supper and a chance of work to follow as though a fortune had been left to them.

"The best day's work I ever did was to come and live near you, Chaplin," said his companion as Mrs. Chaplin helped them to a plate of stew.

She took care that they should have the lion's share of the meal. Winny would have declined having any at all, so eager was she that her father should have enough to do a few hours' work upon, but her mother assured her there was enough for her and Letty to have some as well as her father.

When supper was over, it was agreed that the men should go and lie down in Brown's room for an hour or two and try to sleep, while Mrs. Chaplin cleared away and got their own beds ready. Then at half-past twelve, she was to call them, that they might be at the dock gate in good time.

It was raining fast now, and the wind was almost as cold as in January, as it blew up from the river. Chaplin went down to look out at the weather the last thing before he went to lie down, and it rather pleased him than otherwise, for the wet would drive the chance loafers indoors, and so there would be the fewer at the dock gates to scramble for this job.

But there was one fact that the poor fellow had altogether overlooked, and that was that a man seldom got employed at the same dock two days running, and he had been at work at this place a few hours before.

Brown remembered it, however, and was afraid his companion would be rejected, and so as he went along battling against the cutting wind and rain in the darkness of the early morning, he said, "Look here, mate, we'll make a bargain for this job. Share and share alike it shall be, mind, between us for this. If you gets four hours and I gets two, three it shall be for both of us; and if I gets four and you gets two, why then it shall be the same. It was your mates, as I may call 'em, at that mission room as told us of this, and so we'll share and share alike over it."

"All right, I shall get took on, I fancy; that supper has just set me up, and I could do a day's work with anybody now," said Chaplin confidently.

He forgot that although he might feel better, he did not show it much in his looks yet, and, moreover, had begun to be known as broken-winded—a man who would break down after a couple of hours' driving.

When they reached the dock gates, they saw that their secret was shared by at least two hundred. The foreman had taken care of this, for he wanted a good number to pick from. There in the cold rain and the darkness, the usual struggle for an hour's work took place, and Chaplin was among the number not chosen. Brown got a labour-ticket, and the eagerness with which these were struggled for, would have made one think it was for a party of pleasure rather than work of the most laborious kind that they were being given. The foreman was besieged as soon as he appeared at the top of the wall with the coveted tickets in his hand, and men prayed him to give them a chance of earning fivepence, as though it was the greatest favour that he could bestow upon them.

The twenty tickets that were given out were soon distributed. With the practised eye of one well versed in appraising the working capabilities of the crowd before him, the foreman selected his party. He recognized Chaplin by the light of the lantern he held, as one who had scarcely been able to keep up for an hour the previous day, and so a ticket was handed over his head to a man who had only just come up.

With a sickening feeling of despair, Chaplin turned away as the gates closed. Brown had been selected, and for a minute, he felt as though he almost hated him for his "luck."

Although the gates had shut, and there would not be another call for an hour at least, the crowd showed no intention of moving from their post. Silent and subdued they ranged themselves against the dock wall for such shelter as it would afford them from the pelting rain, and presently the new day broke, cold and misty, and yet it made one or two of the men raise their heads, and perhaps there was a flutter of something like hope stealing through their minds as one and another looked out towards the east, and then towards the dock gates in the hope that they would be opened again soon now that daylight had come. Patient and quiet they stood until about three o'clock, and then another call for hands came, and there was the same fighting and struggling for the chance of an hour's work.

Some of those who had gone in with the first lot came out now, thoroughly exhausted with their two hours' labour; but Brown was not among them. Chaplin did not get taken on, and the foreman told him plainly there would be no work for him that day. So with a sigh he turned homewards, wet through now with the drenching rain.

Brown would want a good breakfast when he came out at five o'clock, and recalling the bargain they had made, he thought the least he could do was to have something ready for him when he came home. So without disturbing his wife, he lighted a fire in Brown's room, and by the time he came back from the docks between five and six, he had got some coffee ready, as well as some bacon and eggs cooked.

"That's it, mate," said Brown heartily when he came in and saw the preparations that had been made for his home-coming; "when I get that into me, and have had an hour or two to rest, I shall be ready for another shift. Mate, you and I must just go shares for a bit longer, and—"

"No, no," interrupted Chaplin, "we've had enough of that, or I should think you had. Here you've been at work four hours, and according to our bargain, if you mean to hold to it, I shall have half your money for doing nothing."

"You call it doing nothing to eat your heart out leaning up against the dock wall. Well, I'd rather do the hardest shift they could put me to than have to do that," said Brown with his mouth full of bread. Chaplin was hungry too, after being out in the keen morning air, but he did not like to eat anything, for his journey had brought no profit, and so he grudged eating until Brown insisted that he should have some bread and coffee at least.

When the meal was over, Chaplin trudged out to another and more distant dock, and Brown laid himself on the bed for an hour's sleep, that he too might go and look for another job before the day was over.

His good luck this morning had quite heartened him, and he chuckled to himself over the idea of going partners with the man who was almost worn-out.

"Do what I may, though, I can never do half as much for them as that little lass has done for my Annie," was his last thought before he went to sleep.