I was receiving my first lessons in the fact that there is as much
good-will as ill-will in the world--in other words, that there really
is, as has been so poetically expressed, a silver lining to every cloud;
and I gladly availed myself of Mr Hallett's kind offer, following him
to his frame, as they called the skeleton desks that supported the
cases, and there sitting down close by him to partake of some bread and
meat which he brought out carefully wrapped in a clean white napkin.
"Don't be afraid, my boy," he said, "make a good meal; and I should
advise you, for the present, to bring your dinner with you and eat it
here. Better than going into the streets."
He then ate his own dinner quickly, and without taking the slightest
notice of me beyond seeing once that I had a sufficiency of the bread
and meat, but took out an oblong memorandum-book, and began busily
drawing and making some calculation.
As he worked at this, I sat and had a good look at him, and could see
that his large, massive head was covered with crisp dark hair that was
already slightly sprinkled with grey. From time to time he raised his
eyes from his book to look up, as if diving into the distance, or trying
to catch some idea that was wandering away from him, and at such moments
his deeply set eyes had a curiously intense look about them, while his
forehead was deeply marked with thoughtful lines.
I don't think he was more than thirty, but he looked, so to speak,
vigorously old, or, rather, worn like some piece of steel that has been
used hard, but has grown sharper and more elastic by that use. He was a
tall, well-made man, but thin and spare, giving the idea of one who was
ascetic in his habits and devoting himself to some particular end.
He did not speak to me again, and I was not sorry, for there was that in
his face and ways that rather repelled than attracted, and I somehow
felt that if he, in his quiet, firm way, were angry with me, I should be
more alarmed than by the noisy bullying of Mr Grimstone, the overseer.
Two o'clock was signalled by the coming back of the compositors, who
resumed their white aprons and rolled up their sleeves, when the sharp
clicking noise went on as before. Mr Hallett, at the first entrance of
one of his fellow-workmen, had shut his book with a snap, and thrust it
into his breast, rolled up the napkin, and then, turning to me with a
nod,--
"Two o'clock, my boy," he said. "Get on with your work."
As he spoke he resumed his own, and I went back to my case.
I had hardly been there ten seconds, and was diligently making sure
which was the compartment containing the letter _u_, which had a
terribly strong resemblance to the letter _n_, when Mr Grimstone
suddenly pounced on me from round the end of the case. I say pounced,
for it was so wonderfully like a cat coming upon a mouse. He seemed
surprised and disappointed at finding me there, though I did not
comprehend his looks then, and after staring hard for a moment or two,
he went away.
The hours glided away, and I was so interested in what I was doing, that
I hardly noticed the lapse of time, while, long before the afternoon was
past, the work the men were engaged upon seemed so attractive that I
felt impelled to imitate them by trying to pick up the letters forming
various words, and then replacing them in the different boxes.
The first time it was rather difficult, but the second time I got on
pretty well, and I was just beginning for the third time, when Mr
Hallett came round my way and caught me in the act. I felt very guilty,
but he seemed to approve, and walked away, to return directly with a
little sliding steel thing, such as the men were using.
"Here's a stick, my boy; try and place the letters, nick uppermost, in
that."
I took the stick, as he called it, and found that as fast as I placed a
letter in, it seemed to do its best to jump out again; then one letter
got upon another, or two or three appeared to quarrel and join in a
regular squabble, so that their awkwardness and utter refusal to lie
quietly side by side at last put me in a profuse perspiration.
I was busily fumbling about when Mr Grimstone, whose voice I had often
heard scolding different men, came round, saw what I was doing, and
snatched the composing-stick away.
"Tchah! What waste of time! Come along here," he cried angrily, and I
followed him to his glass office, where he sat down upon a worn stool.
"Now then," he said, sharply, "I've decided to give you a trial."
I remember thinking that he was very stupid to assume that he had full
authority, when I knew that he had not, but, of course, I was silent.
"And now mind this, sir: I am overseer here, and what I say I will have
done, I have done. You hear?"
"Yes, sir," I said.
"And now we understand one another."
Saying this, he bounced down from his stool again, and led me to the end
of the large room and through a door into a dirty place with a great
leaden sink, water, and brushes, and a pot containing some liquid.
Jem Smith was there, having just brought in a long narrow tray
containing a column of type.
"Here, Smith, show this boy how to wash a galley; and see that he does
it well."
Jem Smith grinned at me as soon as we were left alone, and I saw plainly
enough that he meant to have some compensation for the box on the ear he
had received; but I tried hard to contain myself, and meant to submit
patiently to anything that might follow.
"Here, ketch hold o' that galley," he said sharply, "and look here,
young man, don't you get trying to play the sneak here, and begin
getting old Hallett to take your part. He's only a sneak, and everybody
here hates him 'cause he won't take his beer. You keep away from him,
or it'll be the worse for you. I've only got to tell the other boys,
and they'll make it so warm for you as you'll wish as you'd never come
here. Now, then, why don't you ketch hold o' that galley?"
"I don't know what a galley is," I said sturdily.
"Don't know what a galley is," he said, imitating my way of speaking;
"you're a pretty sort of fellow to come and get work at a
printing-office. There, ketch holt, stoopid: that's the galley; put it
here, and you needn't be so precious frightened of getting your fingers
black. There's the brush, dip it, and fetch all that ink off."
I took the brush, dipped it in the liquor in the pot, and on brushing
the surface of the type found that the strong solution easily brought
off all the black ink; and I ended as instructed, by thoroughly rinsing
the type and placing it to drain.
This done, I had to wash several more galleys, with the result that I
was made tolerably black; and to make matters worse, my companion
brought in a black roller of some soft material, and dabbed it against
my cheek.
I plucked up my spirit and felt ready to strike out, but somehow I kept
my anger down, and after washing the roller in turn, I was allowed to
dry my hands and clean my face, which Jem Smith persuaded me to do with
the strong solution of potash, making it tingle smartly; and, but for
the rapid application of pure water, I believe the skin would have been
made sore.
This seemed to afford the young ruffian intense delight, and taking up
the brush, he dipped it in the potash and tried to brush my hair.
I retreated from him as far as I could, but he got between me and the
door, and with the malignant pleasure felt by some boys in persecuting
those who are weaker than themselves, he caught me by the collar.
"Just you call out, that's all," he said, "and I'll half kill you. Hold
still, you little sneak. You make so much noise as'll reach outside,
and I'll jump on you."
We were close beside the lead sink and the pot of solution-lye, as the
printers call it; and now a new idea seemed to come into the spiteful
young wretch's mind, for, throwing down the brush, he seized hold of me
with both hands, and as we struggled, being much the stronger, he got
behind me, thrust his knee violently into my back, and brought me down
kneeling before the great earthen pot. And now for the first time I saw
what he intended to do, namely, to thrust my face and head into the
black caustic solution, and, in spite of my resistance, he got it down
lower and lower.
I might have shrieked out for help, and I might have cried for mercy;
but, moved partly by his threats, partly by shame, I refrained, and made
use of all my strength to escape, but in vain; strive as I would, he
forced me down lower and lower, and then by one quick effort placed a
hand on the back of my head and thrust it right into the filthy water.
Fortunately for me it was but a momentary affair, and the next instant
he allowed me to struggle up and run blindly to the sink, where,
perhaps, a little alarmed by his success, he filled a bowl with clean
water, leaving the tap running, as I strove to sluice off the blinding,
tingling fluid.
I was in the midst of this, and with soaked necktie and collar, kept on
bathing my face and hair, when I heard Mr Grimstone's voice at the
door, and hastily thrust my fingers into my ears to clear them.
"What's he doing?"
"Washing hisself, sir."
"Washing himself?"
"Yes, sir; he said it was such a nasty dirty job to brush galleys that
he must have a good clean."
"Where's the towel?" I said blindly, for my eyes smarted so that I dare
not open them, and they grew so painful that I hurried once more to the
sink and bathed them with clear water before pressing my hair as dry as
I could, and then using my handkerchief to wipe my face.
I now opened my eyes, and saw that there was a very dirty jack-towel on
a roller behind the door, to which I hastily ran.
"Look here, sir," said Mr Grimstone, as I hastily rubbed away at my
head; "we can't have these goings-on here. What have you been doing?"
"I think he's been using the lye, sir," cried the young hypocrite. "I
told him it was only for the type."
"It isn't true, sir," I cried indignantly; when a compositor came up to
the door, and Mr Grimstone was called away.
The moment he was gone, Smith darted at me, and thrust his doubled fist
hard against my face.
"You say a word agen me," he said, "and I'll half kill yer. I'll smash
yer, that I will, so look out."
He went out of the place, leaving me hot and indignant, rubbing away at
my tingling head, which I at length got pretty dry and combed before a
scrap of glass stuck by four tacks in a corner; and when I had finished
it was in time to see the men just returning from their tea and resuming
their work.
Not being told to do anything else, I went back to the case, and
continued to learn the boxes, not much the worse for my adventure, only
feeling uncomfortably wet about the neck.
At last the clock pointed to eight, and, following the example of the
rest, I hurried out of the great office, eager to get back to Mr
Revitts before he went on duty, for I wanted to ask him a question.
I got up to the street in Pentonville just as he was coming out of the
house, and in answer to his "Halloa! here you are, then," I caught hold
of his arm.
"Bill!" I exclaimed, panting with excitement, "can you teach me how to
fight?"