by Ian Hay
CHAPTER VIII
LIFE AT FIRST-HAND
I
PIP reached London that evening to find the great gloomy house inWestock Square shuttered and silent. His father's brougham had driven upas usual at lunch-time, after the morning round, and its owner had beendiscovered lying in a dead faint inside it. He had been carried into thehouse, to die--not even in his bed. Death, with whom he had waged avicarious and more than commonly successful warfare for thirty-oneyears, had conquered at last, and that, too, with grim irony, in thevery arena of the dead man's triumphs--his own consulting-room. Thegreat physician lay peacefully on an operating-couch near the darkenedwindow, surrounded by life-saving appliances and books that tell howdeath may be averted.
His affairs were in a hopeless tangle. He had risked almost every pennyhe possessed in an ill-judged effort to "get rich quick," and so providefor himself, or at any rate for his family, however sudden and directthe course that his malady might take. Half his capital had been sunk inunremunerative investments, which might or might not pay fifty per centsome day; and the other half was gone beyond recall on an unrealisedanticipation of a fall in copper shares.
A week later Pip, Pipette, and Mr. Hanbury--the latter ten years olderthan when we last heard of him, but not much changed except for a littlereasonable adiposity--sat at dinner. It was almost the last meal theywere to take in the old house, for now _res angustae_ were to be theorder of the day.
The meal ended, and coffee having been served, Pipette, looking pale andpretty in her black evening frock, gave each of the men a cigar,snipping the ends herself, as she had been accustomed to do for herfather; and the trio composed themselves to conversation.
"I saw Crampton to-day," said Pip. (Crampton was the family lawyer.) "Hegave me the facts and figures about things. I couldn't follow all thestuff on blue paper, but I asked him questions and jotted down what Iwanted."
"How does it work out?" inquired Hanbury.
"By putting what money there is in the bank into Consols, and adding theinterest on the few investments that are paying anything at all, thetotal income of the estate comes to exactly one hundred and fifty ayear," said Pip.
"So long as the capital sunk in the other investments produces nothing,that is?"
"Yes. There is a matter of fifteen thousand pounds buried in someAustralian mining group: it might as well be sunk in the sea for all thegood it is doing us. Of course it may turn up trumps some day, but notat present, Crampton says. So Pipette and I are worth just a hundred andfifty a year between us."
There was a silence, and the ash on Pip's cigar was perceptibly longerwhen he spoke again.
"A hundred and fifty," he said, "is not much use for two, but it's acomfortable little sum for one; so Pipette is going to take it all."
Pipette came round and sat on the arm of Pip's chair with the air of onewho wishes to argue the point, and Pip continued hurriedly,--
"We talked it over with her this afternoon, Ham, and she agreed with methat for the present it will be best for her to accept the Rossiters'invitation to join them on their visit to Spain and Algiers, which is tolast about a year. Pipette will be able to pay her full share of theexpenses, so she won't be dependent on anybody. At the same time shewill be having a good time with really nice people instead of--insteadof--"
"Instead of sitting all day in a two-pair-back in London?" said Hanbury.
"That's it, exactly," said Pip, grateful for this moral support. "Ofcourse it would be ripping".--Pipette was beginning to shake, and heput his arm clumsily round her--"it would be ripping to have remainedtogether, but it can't be done at present. In a year, perhaps. The oldlady has been very sensible about it."
Apparently being "sensible" did not include abstinence from tears, forPipette was now weeping softly. She had lost her father only a week, andnow she was to lose her beloved brother.
Hanbury, who, like most strong men, was helpless against feminine tears,coughed self-consciously.
"It sounds a good arrangement," he said. "I suppose it is quiteimpossible for you two to live together? With the hundred and fifty, andwhat you could make yourself, Pip--"
"How am I going to make it?" inquired Pip.
"What are your prospects?"
"What are my accomplishments? I am just twenty-five; I am sound in windand limb; and I sometimes take wickets. Can you suggest anything else?"
"Yes; you possess a stout heart and a hard head."
"If by hard you mean thick, I do," agreed Pip dismally.
"Thick heads have their market like everything else. Where are you goingto take yours?"
"Where would you suggest? I have my own ideas on the subject, ofcourse, but I should like to hear yours, Ham."
Hanbury looked across at him quizzically.
"My young friend," he said, with a flash of his old pedagogic manner,"long experience of your character warns me that you have determined onsome crack-brained scheme, and are now prepared to defend it against allcomers. Proceed."
Pip grinned.
"As you like," he said. "But I think a discussion would clear the air.Here goes! Pipette is appointed chairman. The subject for debate is 'TheChoice of a Career for a Young Man without Education, Ability, orProspects.' Fire away, Ham, and bear in mind that all the learnedprofessions are barred to me."
"I'm not sure of that. How about school-mastering?"
"At a Preparatory?"
"Yes."
"Do you recommend the billet?"
"Frankly--no. Preparatory work is all right provided that you don't minda berth in which your real work only begins at playtime, and which,unless you can afford ultimately to set up for yourself, offers you anabsolutely maximum screw of about two hundred a year."
"I know the sort of thing," said Pip. "You start on about eighty, withboard--"
"Which means a poky dust-hole to sleep in, meat-tea, and--"
"'_The post is one we can unreservedly recommend_'--I know."
"'_Write promptly yet carefully,_'" chanted Ham, "'_to the Principal,the Rev. Adolphus Buggins_--'"
"'_Explaining that you have heard of this vacancy through ouragency_--'"
"'_Stating your degree and previous experience (if any)_--'"
"'_If a member of the Church of England_--'"
"'_Your willingness to participate in school games_--'"
"'_If musical_--'"
"'_If possible, a photograph_'--yah!"
"Don't you think we are rather wandering from the point?" inquired themystified chairwoman.
The rhapsodists ceased their antistrophes and apologised.
"True," said Ham. "Suggestion number one is negatived without adivision. Let us try a fresh cast. Have you any influence with businessfirms?"
"No, thank God!" said Pip simply. "An office would just kill me. If Ihad any chance of a post I should of course have to apply; but Ihaven't, so I needn't."
There was another pause.
"If," said Ham reflectively, "there was any prospect of your sunkencapital rising to the surface again, say in two or three years' time,and it was simply a matter of hanging on till then, you could afford tospend the intervening period in a very interesting fashion."
"As how?"
"Go and see the world for yourself, above and below, inside and out.Knock about and rub shoulders with all sorts of folk. Plunge beneath thesurface and see things as they are. Make your way everywhere, and ifpossible live by the work of your own two hands. You would acquire aknowledge of mankind that few men possess. At the worst you could hangon and make a living somehow until your ship came in--if it were only asa dock-hand or a railway porter. It would be a grand chance, Pip. Mostmen are so unenterprising. Those at the top never want to see whatthings are like below, and those below are so afraid of staying thereforever that their eyes are constantly turned upwards and they miss alot. I'd give something to be a vagabond for a year or two."
"What
fearful sentiments for a respectable house-master!" said Pipetteseverely; but Pip's eyes glowed.
"However," continued Hanbury more soberly, "Pip can't afford to wastetime observing life in a purely academic way down in the basement. Hemust start getting upstairs at once."
"Hear, hear!" said the chairwoman.
"As a matter of fact," said Pip, "the scheme I have in my eye rathermeets the case, I think."
"What is it?"
"Well, I made a list of all the careers open to me. I'll go throughthem."
Though his final choice was all they wished to know, his audiencesettled themselves patiently to listen. They knew it was useless tohurry Pip.
"The things I thought of," continued the orator, "are--cricket-pro,gamekeeper, policeman, emigrant to Canada, and Tommy."
He smiled genially upon his gaping companions. "They are all goodopen-air jobs," he explained.
Pipette stiffened in her chair.
"But they will none of them do," he added.
Pipette relaxed again.
"This," said Hanbury, "is interesting and human. We must have yourreasons for rejecting these noble callings, _seriatim_. A cricket-pro,for instance?"
"Once a 'pro' always a 'pro,'" said Pip. "I hope some day to play as anamateur again. And while we are on the subject, I may as well say thatI'm _not_ going to be a professional-amateur. No two hundred a year asassistant-deputy-under-secretary to a county club for me, please!"
"Good boy," said Hanbury. "Now, please--gamekeeper?"
"I'm too old. A gamekeeper requires to be born to the job. I have theordinary sporting man's knowledge of game and sport generally, but Ishould be a hundred before I learned as much about the real ins and outsof the business as--a poacher's baby."
"Quite so. Policeman?"
"The only chance of promotion in the police force is in the detectivedirection, and I--I think detection comes under the head of learnedprofessions."
"Tommy, then?"
"A Tommy's would be a grand life if there was always a war. But, Ham,think what the existence of a gentleman-ranker must be in time of peace.A few hours' duty a day, and the rest--beer and nursemaids! Help!"
"You have been devoting much time to reflection, Pip. Well, to continue.How about emigrating?"
"Emigration is such a tremendously big step. If one is prepared for it,well and good. But I'm not ripe yet. You see, Canada and Australia areso far away, and I'm not quite prepared to give up--"
"England, home, _and_ beauty--eh, Pip? Is that how the wind blows?"
"Dry up!" said Pip, hastily passing on to his peroration. "Before I tryany of these things I am going to see how my own pet scheme pans out."
"And that is--?" said Pipette breathlessly.
"I can use my hands a bit, and have a sort of rough knowledge ofmechanics," continued Pip, staring into the fire and stating his casewith maddening deliberation, "and I don't mind hard work. Mind you--"
"Pip, _do_ get on!" almost screamed poor Pipette.
Pip, looking slightly surprised, came to the point.
"I am going to try for a job," said he, "at a big motor works I know of.I will start as a cleaner, or greaser, or anything they please, ifthey'll take me; and when I have got a practical knowledge of the insand outs of the business, I shall try to set up as a chauffeur."
He broke off, and scanned his hearers' faces rather defiantly.
"How do you like the idea?" he asked.
"You'd get horribly dirty, Pip," said practical Pipette. "Think of theoil!"
Pip laughed. "I'll get used to that."
"And how long would you stick to it?"
"What, the oil?"
"No, the trade."
"That depends. If I find the life absolutely unbearable for anyreason--Trades Unions, for instance--I shall jack it up. But I don'tthink it is very likely."
"Neither do I," said Hanbury, who had had exceptional opportunities forstudying Pip's character.
"Then," continued Pip, with something like enthusiasm, "if those sunkenshares took up, and there was money to be had, I might buy myself apartnership in a motor business. If they don't take up, I must just savemy wages till I can afford to go out and farm in Canada. I'll take youwith me, Pipette, if I go," he added reassuringly.
II
A month later Pip obtained a humble and oleaginous appointment at theGresley Motor Works in Westminster Bridge Road.
The foreman who engaged him was short-handed at the time, and though Pipwas obviously too old for a beginner, he was impressed with his thewsand sinews. After a few weeks, finding that Pip did not drink, and ifgiven a job, however trivial, to perform, could be relied on withabsolute certainty to complete it on time, the foreman unbent stillfurther, and paid Pip the compliment of heaping upon him work thatshould have been done by more competent but less dependable folk. Pipthrove under this treatment, and in spite of the aloofness of hisfellow-workmen, who scented a "toff," the novelty and genuine usefulnessof his new life inspired him with a zest and enthusiasm that took himover many rough places.
For it was not all plain sailing. The horny-handed son of toil is nodoubt the salt of the earth and the backbone of the British nation, buthe is not always an amenable companion, and he is apt to regard habitualsobriety and strict attention to duty in a colleague as a species ofindirect insult to himself. However, abundance of good temper, togetherwith a few hard knocks when occasion demanded, soon smoothed over Pip'sdifficulties in this direction; and presently the staff of Gresley'sleft him pretty much to himself, tacitly agreeing to regard him as aneccentric but harmless lunatic who liked work.
Pip purposely avoided young Gresley when he applied for the post. Hisidea was to obtain employment independently, if possible, and only toappeal to his friend as a last resource. He was anxious, too, to spareGresley the undoubted embarrassment of having to oblige a veneratedmember of his own college and club by appointing him to a job worthless than thirty shillings a week. Gresley, moreover, would probablyhave foisted him into a position for which he was totally unfitted, orwould have pressed a large salary on him in return for purely nominalservices. Pip was determined that what he made he would earn, and so hestarted quietly and anonymously at the foot of the ladder. He evenadopted a _nom de guerre_, lest a glance at the time-sheet or pay-listshould betray his identity to his employer. The Gresley Works containedseven hundred men, and it was not likely, Pip thought, that youngGresley, who, though he was seen frequently about the shops, spent mostof his time in the drawing-office, would recognise even his most admiredfriend amid a horde of grimy mechanics.
But for all that they met, as they were bound to do. A city set on ahill cannot be hid. Pip's reliability and general smartness soon raisedhim from the ruck of his mates, and presently his increasingresponsibilities began to bring him in contact with those in authority.He had not counted on this; so, realising that recognition was now onlya matter of time, and wishing to avoid the embarrassment of anunpremeditated meeting in the works, he waylaid his friend one morningin a quiet storehouse. The surprise took young Gresley's breath away,and Pip took advantage of the period preceding its return to give ahurried explanation of his presence there, coupled with a request thathis anonymity might be respected.
That night young Gresley, filled with admiration, told the whole storyto his father.
"Of course, Dad, you'll move him up to a good post at once?" he said.
Old Gresley, leaning his scraggy face upon his hand, replied curtly, "Ishall do no such thing."
The son, who knew that his father never said a thing without reason,waited.
"Wilmot? He was the young fellow who helped you when you went foolingaway your money at cards, wasn't he?" continued the old man, suddenlyturning his Napoleonic eye upon his son.
"Yes. He pulled me out of a tight place."
"That young man wouldn't thank me for undeserved promotion. He has theright stuff in him, and he wants to do things from the beginning--theonly way! I often wis
h that you had had to start in the same fashion,Harry: there's nothing like it for making men. But your foolish old dadhad been over the ground before you, and that made things easy. Whatthat boy wants is work. I'll see he gets it, and I'll watch how he doesit, and I'll take care that he is paid according to his merits."
Consequently Pip, much to his relief, was left in undisturbed possessionof his self-sought limbo, and made the recipient of an ever-increasingload of work,--varied, strenuous, responsible work,--and for threesturdy years he lived a life that hardened his muscles, broadened hisviews, taught him self-reliance, cheery contentment with his lot, and,in short, made a man of him.
He learned to live on a pound a week. He learned to drink four ale andsmoke shag. He became an _habitue_ of those establishments which are soably administered by Lord Rowton and Mr. Lockhart. He obtained aninsight into the workings of the proletariat mind. He learned the firstlesson which all who desire to know their world must learn, namely, thatmankind is not divided into three classes,--our own, another immediatelyabove it, and another immediately below it,--but that a motor factorymay contain as many grades and distinctions, as many social barriers andsmart sets, as many cliques and cabals, as Mayfair--or Upper Tooting. Helearned to distinguish the stupid, beer-swilling, illiterate, but mainlyhonest British workman of the old-fashioned type from the precocious,clerkly, unstable, rather weedy product of the board-school andmusic-hall. He discovered earnest young men in blue overalls who readRuskin, and pulverised empires and withered up dynasties once a week ina debating society. He made the acquaintance of the paid agitator, withhis stereotyped phrases and glib assertions of the right of man to afair day's work and a fair day's wage, oblivious of the fact that he didnot know the meaning of the first and would never have been content withthe second. He rubbed shoulders with men who struggled, amid cylindersand accumulators, with religious doubts; men who had been "saved," andwho insisted on leaving evidence to that effect, in pamphlet form, intheir mates' coat-pockets; and men who, either through excess ofintellect or from lack of adversity, had never had any need of God, andconsequently did not believe in Him.
He saw other things, many of which made him sick. He saw child-wives ofseventeen, tied to stunted youths of twenty, already inured and almostindifferent to a thrashing every Saturday night. He saw babieseverywhere, chiefly in public-houses, where their sole diet appeared toconsist of as much gin as they could lick off the fingers whichaccommodating parents from time to time dipped into their glasses andthrust into their wailing little mouths. He saw the beast that a womancan make of a man and the wreck that a man can make of a woman, and thehorror that drink can make of both; and, being young and inexperienced,he grew depressed at these sights, and came to the conclusion that theworld was very evil.
And then he began to notice other things--the goodness of the poor tothe poor; game struggles with grinding poverty; incredible cheerfulnessunder drab surroundings and in face of imminent starvation; the loyaltyof the wife to the husband who ill-used her; the good-humouredresignation of the shrew's husband; the splendid family pride of thefamily who, though they lived in one room, considered very properly thatone room (with rent paid punctually) constitutes a castle; thewhip-round among a gang of workmen when a mate was laid by and his wholefamily rendered destitute; and finally the children, whom neither dingycourts, nor crowded alleys, nor want of food, nor occasional beatings,nor absence of any playthings save tiles, half-bricks, and dead kittens,could prevent from running, skipping, shouting, quarrelling, playingsoldiers, keeping shop, and making believe generally, just aspersistently and inconsequently as their more prosperous little brethrenwere doing, much more expensively, not many streets away. Pip saw allthese things, and he began to realise, as we must all do if we wait longenough, that it takes all sorts to make a world, and that life is fullof compensations.
In short, three years of close contact with the raw material ofhumanity gave Pip a deeper knowledge of man as God made him, than hecould have acquired perhaps from a whole lifetime spent in contemplatingthe finished article in a more highly veneered and less transparentclass of society.
Pip allowed himself certain relaxations. He had consented to keep fiftypounds out of Pipette's hundred and fifty a year, and once a month, onSaturday afternoons, after a preliminary scrub and change in hislodging, he departed to the West End, and indulged in the luxury of aTurkish bath. (He needed it, as the heated individual who operated uponhim was wont, with some asperity, to remark.) Then he dined in state atone of those surprising two-shilling _tables d'hote_ in a Sohorestaurant, and went on to the play--the pit. Sometimes he went to theOval or Lord's, and with itching arm watched the cricket. Once he hearda bystander lament the absence, abroad, of one Wilmot, a celebrated"left-'ender" ("Terror, my boy! Mike this lot sit up if 'e was 'ere!"),and he glowed foolishly to think that he was not forgotten. Absenceabroad was the official explanation of his non-appearance in first-classcricket during this period, and also served to satisfy the curiosity ofthose of his friends who wanted to know what had become of him.
Sometimes, as he sat in the shilling seats at Lord's, he wondered if hewould ever be able to use his member's ticket again; and he smiled whenhe pictured to himself what the effect would be if a petrol-scentedmechanic were to elbow his way in and claim a seat in the Old Blues'reservation!
He saw no friends but Hanbury, who occasionally looked him up in hislodging, and with whom he once went clothed and _in propria persona_ toa quiet golfing resort during one joyful Christmas week, when the workswere closed from Friday night till Wednesday morning. He heard regularlyfrom Pipette. At first she was obviously miserable, and Pip was at somepains to write her boisterously cheerful letters about the pleasantnessof his new existence and the enormous saving of money to be derived fromnot keeping up appearances, knowing well that the knowledge that he washappy would be the first essential in producing the same condition inPipette. After a little she wrote more cheerfully: then followed aregular year of light, irresponsible, thoroughly femininecorrespondence, full of the joy of youth and lively appreciation of thescenes and people around her. Then came a period when unseeing Pip foundher letters rather dull--a trifle perfunctory, in fact. Then came afortnight during which there was no letter at all, and Pip grewanxious. Finally, just as he sat down to write to Mrs. Rossiterinquiring if his sister was ill, there came a letter,--a long,breathless, half-shy, half-rapturous screed,--containing the absolutelyunprecedented piece of information that Providence had brought her intocontact with the most splendid fellow--bracketed with Pip, ofcourse--that the world had ever seen; that the said fellow--JimRossiter--incredible as it might appear, had told her that he loved her;whereupon Pipette had become suddenly conscious that she loved him; thateverybody was very pleased and kind about it, and--did Pip mind?
Pip, who knew Jim Rossiter for a good fellow, wrote back soberly butheartily. He congratulated Pipette, gave his unconditional assent to thematch, gratefully declined an invitation to come and take up his abodewith the young couple after their marriage, and faithfully promised,whenever that joyful ceremony should take place, to have a bath and comeand give the bride away. Which brings little Pipette's part in thisnarrative to a happy conclusion.
Of Elsie Pip heard little, and tried to think not at all. At present shewas not for him, and probably never would be. His mind was quite clearon the subject. When, if ever, his ship came in, he would seek her outwherever she was, and--provided she had not married some one else,which was only too likely, Pip thought--ask her to marry him. Till thenhe was a member of the working classes, and must not cry for the moon.Still, though he conscientiously refrained from direct inquiries, hegreedily hoarded every careless item of information on the subject thatcropped up in Pipette's letters.
Elsie had no parents, and soon after Pip's disappearance "abroad" hadgone for a trip round the world with Raven Innes and his wife. She spentsome months in India, and Pip, who knew that that bright jewel of theEmpire's crown contains many men and few women, shuddered a
nd ground histeeth. However, no bad news came, and presently he heard from Pipettethat the travellers had left Colombo and were on their way to Australia.After that Pipette became engaged, and the curtain fell upon Elsie'smovements, for Pipette's letters now harped upon a single string, andPip was far too shy to ask for information outright. So he hardened hisheart, hoped for the best, and went on with his day's work, as many aman has had to do before him, and been all the better for it.
One sentimental indulgence he allowed himself. Every Christmas he sentElsie a present, together with his best wishes for the season. Onlythat, and nothing more. No long screed: above all, no address. He hadhis pride.
After two years' work his duties took a more varied and infinitelypleasanter form. He was by this time a thoroughly competent workman. Hecould take an engine to pieces and put it together again. He coulddiagnose every ill that a motor-car is heir to,--and a motor-car is morethan human in this respect,--and he was a fearless and cool-headeddriver. Consequently he was frequently sent out on trial trips, touringexcursions, and the like; and owing to his excellent appearance andpleasant manner, was greatly in request as a teacher. More than onebutterfly of fashion conceived a tenderness in her worldly and elasticlittle heart for the big silent chauffeur, who explained the whole artof motoring so clearly and quietly, and was never dirty to look at orfamiliar to speak to. He grew accustomed--though slowly--to receivingtips, even from his own former friends and acquaintances, more than oneof whom sat by his side, and even conversed with him withoutrecognition. His name was now John Armstrong,--he was holding back hisown till a more prosperous time,--and he had shaved off a mustache ofwhich, as an undergraduate, he had been secretly but inordinately proud.These changes, together with his leather livery and peaked cap,neutralised him down into one of a mere type, and he looked just likescores of other clean-shaven, hawk-eyed chauffeurs.
One day he drove down a roystering party of cricketers to play a matchin the country. When the game began it was discovered that the visitingteam was a man short. The captain, hard put to it to find a substitute,cast his eye upon the chauffeur, and straightway pressed him, a notunwilling victim, into the service. In black leather breeches andshirt-sleeves Pip fielded in the sun, "revolving many memories," asTennyson says; and towards the end of the match, when runs were comingsomewhat too freely and all the bowlers had been tried in vain, wasgiven the ball; whereupon, throwing caution to the winds, he disposed offive wickets in exactly three overs. Fortunately the team had lunchedgenerously, as teams that come down from the city for a day's sport notinfrequently do, so the enthusiasm which Pip's feat evoked was tooalcoholic to be discriminating.
One more experience Pip had, and as it marked the closing stages of hisapprenticeship to manhood, and also introduced him to a character whoseexistence was foreshadowed in the second chapter of this book, it shallbe set down at length.
