`Yes: but the best of it was,' the man on the pail proceeded, `the best of it was, when ole Misery 'eard about the table, 'e was so bloody wild because 'e didn't get it 'imself that 'e went upstairs and pinched one of the venetian blinds and 'ad it took up to 'is own 'ouse by the boy, and a few days arterwards one of the carpenters 'ad to go and fix it up in 'is bedroom.'
`And wasn't it never found out?' inquired Easton.
`Well, there was a bit of talk about it.The agent wanted to know where it was, but Pontius Pilate swore black and white as there 'adn't been no blind in that room, and the end of it was that the firm got the order to supply a new one.'
`What I can't understand is, who did the table belong to?' said Harlow.
`It was a fixture belongin' to the 'ouse,' replied Wantley.`But Isuppose the former tenants had some piece of furniture of their own that they wanted to put in the 'all where this table was fixed, so they took it down and stored it away in this 'ere cupboard, and when they left the 'ouse I suppose they didn't trouble to put it back again.Anyway, there was the mark on the wall where it used to be fixed, but when we did the staircase down, the place was papered over, and I suppose the landlord or the agent never give the table a thought.Anyhow, Rushton got away with it all right.'
A number of similar stories were related by several others concerning the doings of different employers they had worked for, but after a time the conversation reverted to the subject that was uppermost in their thoughts - the impending slaughter, and the improbability of being able to obtain another job, considering the large number of men who were already out of employment.
`I can't make it out, myself,' remarked Easton.`Things seems to get worse every year.There don't seem to be 'arf the work about that there used to be, and even what there is is messed up anyhow, as if the people who 'as it done can't afford to pay for it.'
`Yes,' said Harlow; `that's true enough.Why, just look at the work that's in one o' them 'ouses on the Grand Parade.People must 'ave 'ad more money to spend in those days, you know; all those massive curtain cornishes over the drawing- and dining-room winders - gilded solid! Why, nowadays they'd want all the bloody 'ouse done down right through - inside and out, for the money it cost to gild one of them.'
`It seems that nearly everybody is more or less 'ard up nowadays,'
said Philpot.`I'm jiggered if I can understand it, but there it is.'
`You should ast Owen to explain it to yer,' remarked Crass with a jeering laugh.`'E knows all about wot's the cause of poverty, but 'e won't tell nobody.'E's been GOIN' to tell us wot it is for a long time past, but it don't seem to come orf.'
Crass had not yet had an opportunity of producing the Obscurer cutting, and he made this remark in the hope of turning the conversation into a channel that would enable him to do so.But Owen did not respond, and went on reading his newspaper.
`We ain't 'ad no lectures at all lately, 'ave we?' said Harlow in an injured tone.`I think it's about time Owen explained what the real cause of poverty is.I'm beginning to get anxious about it.'
The others laughed.
When Philpot had finished eating his dinner he went out of the kitchen and presently returned with a small pair of steps, which he opened and placed in a corner of the room, with the back of the steps facing the audience.
`There you are, me son!' he exclaimed to Owen.`There's a pulpit for yer.'
`Yes! come on 'ere!' cried Crass, feeling in his waistcoat pocket for the cutting.`Tell us wot's the real cause of poverty.'
`'Ear, 'ear,' shouted the man on the pail.`Git up into the bloody pulpit and give us a sermon.'
As Owen made no response to the invitations, the crowd began to hoot and groan.
`Come on, man,' whispered Philpot, winking his goggle eye persuasively at Owen.`Come on, just for a bit of turn, to pass the time away.'
Owen accordingly ascended the steps - much to the secret delight of Crass - and was immediately greeted with a round of enthusiastic applause.
`There you are, you see,' said Philpot, addressing the meeting.`It's no use booin' and threatenin', because 'e's one of them lecturers wot can honly be managed with kindness.If it 'adn't a bin for me, 'e wouldn't 'ave agreed to speak at all.'
Philpot having been unanimously elected chairman, proposed by Harlow and seconded by the man on the pail, Owen commenced:
`Mr Chairman and gentlemen:
`Unaccustomed as I am to public speaking, it is with some degree of hesitation that I venture to address myself to such a large, distinguished, fashionable, and intelligent looking audience as that which I have the honour of seeing before me on the present occasion.'
(Applause.)
`One of the finest speakers I've ever 'eard!' remarked the man on the pail in a loud whisper to the chairman, who motioned him to be silent.
Owen continued:
`In some of my previous lectures I have endeavoured to convince you that money is in itself of no value and of no real use whatever.In this I am afraid I have been rather unsuccessful.'
`Not a bit of it, mate,' cried Crass, sarcastically.`We all agrees with it.'
`'Ear, 'ear,' shouted Easton.`If a bloke was to come in 'ere now and orfer to give me a quid - I'd refuse it!'
`So would I,' said Philpot.
