The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists
fleas! During the few days he worked at that place, he continued, he lost several pounds in weight, and of evenings, as he walked homewards, the children and the people in the streets, observing his ravaged countenance, thought he was suffering from some disease and used to get out of his way when they saw him coming.
There were several other of these narratives, four or five men talking at the top of their voices at the same time, each one telling a different story. At first each story-teller addressed himself to the company generally, but after a while, finding it impossible to get a hearing, he would select some particular individual who seemed disposed to listen, and tell him the story. It sometimes happened that in the middle of the tale the listener would remember a somewhat similar adventure of his own which he immediately proceeded to relate without waiting for the other to finish, and both of them were generally so interested in the gruesome details of their own story that they were unconscious of the fact that the other was telling one at all. In a contest of this kind the victory usually went to the man with the loudest voice, but sometimes a man who had a weak voice scored by repeating the same tale several times until some one heard it.
There was one man sitting on an up-ended pail in the far corner of the room, and from the movements of his lips it was evident that he also was relating a story, although nobody knew what it was about or heard a single word of it, for no one took the slightest notice of him. After a time Bundy stood up to help himself to some more tea. The cup he was drinking from had a large piece broken out of one side and did not hold much, so he usually had to have three or four helpings.
'Anyone else want any?' he asked.
Several cups and jars were passed to him. These vessels had been standing on the floor, which was very dirty and covered with dust, so before dipping them into the pail, Bundy—who had been working at the drains all the morning—wiped the bottoms of the jars upon his trousers, on the same place where he was in the habit of wiping his hands when he happened to get some dirt on them. He filled the jars so full that as he held them by the rims and passed them to their owners part of the contents slopped over and trickled through his fingers. By the time he had finished the floor was covered with little pools of tea.
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