JOE. And the kiddie had a tuck-out? Thank God! And you?
MARY. Minnie managed to hide a great big bun for me.
JOE. The lady didn't give you anything?
MARY. Only a lecture, Joe, for bringing the child out on so bitter a day.
JOE. [_With a sour laugh, as he sits on a chair._] Ho, ho! Always so ready
with their lectures, aren't they? "Shouldn't beg, my man! Never give to
beggars in the street!"--Look at me, I said to one of them. Feel my arm.
Tap my chest. I tell you I'm starving, and they're starving at
home.--"Never give to beggars in the street."
MARY. [_Laying a hand on his arm._] Oh, Joe, you're wet!
JOE. It's been raining hard the last three hours--pouring. My stars, it's
cold. Couldn't we raise a bit of fire, Mary?
MARY. With what, Joe?
JOE. [_After a look round, suddenly getting up, seizing a ricketty chair
by the wall, breaking off the legs._] With this! Wonderful fine furniture
they give you on the Hire System--so solid and substantial--as advertised.
[_He breaks the flimsy thing up, as he speaks._] And to think we paid for
this muck, in the days we were human beings--paid about three times its
value! And to think of the poor devils, poor devils like us, who sweated
their life-blood out to make it--and of the blood-sucking devils who sold
it and got fat on it--and now back it goes to the devil it came from, and
we can at least get warm for a minute. [_He crams the wood into the
grate._] Got any paper, Mary?
MARY. [_Taking an old newspaper from the trunk._] Here, Joe.
JOE. That will help to build up a fire. [_He glances at it, then lays it
carefully underneath the wood._ MARY _gets lamp from table._] The Daily
Something or other--that tells the world what a happy people we are--how
proud of belonging to an Empire on which the sun never sets. And I'd sell
Gibraltar to-night for a sausage with mashed potatoes; and let Russia
take India if some one would give me a clerkship at a pound a
week.--There, in you go! A match, Mary?
MARY. [_Standing above_ JOE, _handing him one._] Ok Joe, be careful--we've
only two left!
JOE. I'll be careful. Wait, though--I'll see whether there's a bit of
tobacco still in my pipe. [_He fishes the pipe out of his pocket._] A
policeman who warned me away from the kerb gave me some tobacco. "Mustn't
beg," he said. "Got a pipe? Well, here's some tobacco." I believe he'd
have given me money. But it was the first kind word I had heard all day,
and it choked me.--There's just a bit left at the bottom. [_He bustles._]
Now, first the fire. [_He puts the match to the paper--it kindles._] And
then my pipe. [_The fire burns up; he throws himself in front of it._]
Boo-o-oh, I'm sizzling.... I got so wet that I felt the water running into
my lungs--my feet didn't seem to belong to me--and as for my head and
nose! [_Yawns._] Well, smoke's good--by the powers, I'm getting warm--come
closer to it, Mary. It's a little after midnight now--and I left home,
this fine, luxurious British home, just as soon as it was light. And I've
tramped the streets all day. Net result, a policeman gave me a pipeful of
tobacco, I lunched off a bit of bread that I saw floating down the
gutter--and I dined off the kitchen smell of the Café Royal. That's my
day.
MARY. [_Stroking his hand._] Poor boy, poor boy!
JOE. I stood for an hour in Leicester Square when the theatres emptied,
thinking I might earn a copper, calling a cab, or something. There they
were, all streaming out, happy and clean and warm--broughams and
motor-cars--supper at the Savoy and the Carlton--and a hundred or two of
us others in the gutter, hungry--looking at them. They went off to their
supper--it was pouring, and I got soaked--and there I stood, dodging the
policemen, dodging the horses' heads and the motors--and it was
always--get away, you loafer, get away--get away--get away--