The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists
Misery hastily shut the door and ran upstairs, and presently the coddy came down and called out to them from the passage.
They went out to see what he wanted, and he told them that Misery had gone to the office to get their wages ready; they were to make out their time sheets and go for their money at once. Misery had said that if they were not there in ten minutes he would have the pair of them locked up.
The Semi-Drunk said that nothing would suit them better than to have all their pieces at once, they had spent all their money and wanted another drink. Bill Bates concurred, so they borrowed a piece of black lead pencil from the coddy and made out their time sheets, took off their aprons, put them into their tool bags, and went to the office for their money, which Misery passed out to them through the trap door.
The news of this exploit spread all over the town during that day and evening, and although it was in July, the next morning at six o'clock there were half a dozen men waiting at the yard to ask Misery if there was 'any chance of a job.'
Bill Bates and the Semi-Drunk had had their spree and had got the sack for it, and most of their mates said it served them right for there was very little real sympathy between the men, and there were few who would not seize the opportunity of 'telling each other off' to the coddy or foreman with a view to currying favour in high places.
But to hear them talking in the pub of a Saturday afternoon just after pay time one would think them the best friends and mates and the most independent spirits in the world, fellows whom it would be very dangerous to trifle with and who would stick up for each other through thick and thin. All sorts of stories were related of the wonderful things they had done and said; of jobs they had 'chucked up,' and masters they had 'told off'; of pails of whitewash thrown over offending employers. But strange to say, for some reason or other it seldom happened that a third party ever witnessed any of these incidents. It seemed as if a chivalrous desire to spare the feelings of their victims had always prevented them from doing or saying anything to them in the presence of witnesses.
When he had drunk a few pints, Crass was a very good hand at these stories. He told one in the bar of the 'Cricket-
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