HE told some friends whom he caught up on the way that his was a position
of pretty middling tidy responsibility, and when he spoke more freely on
the topic they gave a whistle which conveyed an amount of astonishment
that proved gratifying. The lad explained to each in turn that his
mother was an uncommonly good manager, able to make a penny go as far as
some could use a shilling; each made the identical reply before selecting
a turning on the right of Kingsland Road, that it must nevertheless be a
close fit, and added, “Stick to it, old man; wish you better luck,” with
all the solemnity and earnestness of boys who have but recently started
work. One or two acquaintances shouted to him from the tops of electric
trams, flying Stamford Hill way, indicating by signs the existence of a
vacant seat; he shook his head and marched on. Three girls, making their
way home by a series of spasmodic rushes, with at intervals hysterical
appeals to each other not to act the silly (being, in fact, so delighted
at release from work that they scarcely knew how to make proclamation of
their happiness)—these snatched at his cap and, a few yards off, threw it
back to him, taking at once to their heels, and later becoming extremely
indignant because he had not respected the rules of the game by chasing
them and administering punishment in the shape of a blow on the shoulder.
Their annoyance at his reticent manner was so great that they presently
waited, demanding of him when he arrived whether he thought himself
everybody. Failing to obtain an answer, they furnished estimates on
their own account, asserting (by happy choice of words) that he was deaf,
dumb, or dotty; he did not trouble to contradict, and they gave him up.
Nearing home, he increased his frown of importance.
“’Ullo, Tommy!”
“‘Thomas,’ if you please,” he said, bending to kiss the child; “and don’t
let me catch you again swinging on this gate. You’ll have the whole row
of palings down, that’s what you’ll be doing. Big, clumsy girl like
you.”
The youngster, gratified by this compliment, took his hand, and led him
to the front door, where she cried “Mother!” with a strong accent on the
second syllable; on gaining a reply of “Now begin your nonsense again,”
she announced the arrival. The boy hung his cap behind the door, and
threw himself into an easy chair.
“No,” he answered, with an exhausted air, “I can’t play games with you
this evening. Yes, yes, I know I used to; but them times are all past
and gone. You’re too young to understand, my girl, and it’s as well you
are, but life’s a serious matter. Tell me, how’ve you been getting on at
school to-day?”
“Teacher give me a rap over the knuckles.”
“I don’t like that.”
“I didn’t like it, neither.”
“What I mean is,” he went on, “that a little girl like you ought to do
her best to learn all she can whilst she’s got the opportunities. If you
don’t, why, later on, when it’s too late, you’ll be sorry. In the
meantime, you want to do all you can to pick up everything at school, and
not give your teachers opportunity for being cross with you in any shape
or form whatsoever. You hear what I’m telling you. What’s mother
singing for?”
“Put this top somewhere,” suggested the child, “whilst I turn my face to
the wall—I won’t look, truth and honour—and then you tell me when I’m
getting warm and when I’m getting cold.”
“Let’s hear you spell it!”
The little person, found guilty of spelling top with two p’s, not only
had to accept a severe reprimand, but was called upon to spell pot, and
pop, and one or two other words; when she had gone through the
examination the boy agreed to conceal the article, and she set about with
great enthusiasm on the task of finding it, but the game was so
frequently interfered with by his admonitions concerning present
behaviour, by warnings regarding future conduct, that she did not hide
her satisfaction when the mother brought in his tea. The child was
allowed to stand by and receive the top of the egg.
“Yes,” admitted the mother, in answer to his challenge, “I am in rather
good spirits. Would you like a second cup, Tommy, or another slice of
bread and butter? You’ve only to say the word.”
“These are not times,” he decided, “for a man to make a hog of himself.
You must arrange for the money to last as long as it possibly can,
mother. Watch every penny. Don’t let there be nothing in the shape of
waste.”
“I managed, my dear,” she retorted, with spirit, “when your father was in
work, and earning 35s. a week, and I’ve somehow managed during the last
six weeks on your money alone. It’s took a bit of doing,” she sighed,
“but I’ve done it.”
“Set down and rest for a moment,” recommended the boy. “Expect you’re
like me—you’ve had a hard day of it.”
The little girl was expelled from the room for the reason that her
mother, in sitting, found the concealed wooden top. The two were left to
converse together; the boy found a crumpled cigarette in his pocket, and
his mother, hunting for matches, sang the first lines of a song that
belonged to her early youth.
“I’ve got no objection,” he said, speaking with deliberation, between the
puffs, “to you being light-’earted, but I hope you realise, mother, that
I’m having to stint myself pretty considerably in order that you should
make both ends meet.”
“You’re a good lad,” she agreed, “as lads go nowadays!”
“I deny myself several luxuries, such as the first ’ouse at the local
Empire, something extra for lunch, a new necktie for Sundays. This fag
that I’m smoking at the present moment was given to me. I bring ’ome
every penny I earn, and if I ’appen by any chance to make a bit extra,
why, I bring that ’ome as well. I don’t begrudge it in the least;
shouldn’t like you to think that of me, mother; all I want you to do is
to recognise it. And if you care to mention the fact to neighbours, or
friends, or even to relatives, why, there’s no objection on my part.”
“I’ve never made no secret of it, my dear,” she declared, reassuringly.
“Your Aunt Mary was in only this afternoon, and you know what an
inquisitive one she is. She brings a small pot of jam, and always
expects about a ton of information in exchange. Wanted to know how I
managed, and whether we was running into debt, and how long it was likely
to last, and I don’t know what all. I didn’t tell her everything, but I
did mention that if it hadn’t been for you I don’t know where we should
have found ourselves.”
“And what did she say?”
“Said I ought to be proud of you. Said she wished she had a son like
you.” He nodded approvingly, and continued to listen. “Said that,
considering you only left school seven months ago—”
“Eight months.”
“—you might reckon yourself a credit to the family.”
“Anything else?”
“That’s all she said about you.”
He stretched himself, enjoying luxuriously the end of his cigarette.
“But,” going on with relish, “I was able to take her down a peg before
she went. Never said nothing about it until just as she was going, and
then I told her, what I’m now going to tell you, my dear, and that is
this: your father’s been taken back by his old firm, and he started
earning good money this very day. Wherever are you off to in such a
hurry?”
The boy snatched his cap from the wooden peg. He strode out by the front
door, and walked away towards Dalston Junction, frowning.