The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists
began to sing the old favourite, 'Work! for the night is coming!', the refrain of which was soon taken up by nearly everyone in the house:
'Work! for the night is coming,
Work in the morning hours,
Work! for the night is coming!
Work 'mid springing flowers!
Work while the dew is sparkling,
Work in the noonday sun!
Work, for the night is coming,
When man's work is done!'
When this hymn was finished, someone else, imitating the whine of a street singer, started 'Oh where is my wandering boy to-night?', and then Harlow—who by some strange chance had a penny—took it out of his pocket and dropped it on the floor, the ringing of the coin being greeted with shouts of 'Thank you, kind lady' from several of the singers. This little action of Harlow's was the means of bringing a most extraordinary circumstance to light. Although it was Saturday morning, several of the others had pennies or halfpence, and at the conclusion of each verse they all followed Harlow's example and the house resounded with the ringing of falling coins, cries of 'Thank you, kind lady', 'Thank you, sir,' and 'Gord bless you,' mingled with shouts of laughter.
'My wandering boy' was followed by a choice selection of choruses of well-known music hall songs, the whole being tastefully varied and interspersed with howls, shrieks, curses, and catcalls.
In the midst of the uproar Crass came upstairs.
''Ere!' he shouted, 'for Christ's sake make less row! Suppose Nimrod was to come back!'
'Oh, 'e ain't comin' any more to-day,' said Harlow, recklessly.
'Besides, what if 'e does come?' cried Easton. ''Oo cares for im?'
'Well, we never know; and for that matter Rushton or Sweater might come at any minit.'
With this, Crass went muttering back to the scullery, and the men relapsed into their usual silence.
182
