"Oh, I say, don't do that!" George exclaimed. "What have you to cry about?"
"Aint it enough to make a cove cry," Bill sobbed, "to find a chap doing things for him like that? I wish I may die if I don't feel as if I should bust. It's too much, that's what it is, and it's all on one side; that's the wust of it."
"I dare say you will make it even some time, Bill; so don't let's say anything more about it, but put on your clothes. We will have a cup of coffee each and a loaf between us for breakfast, and then we will go for a walk into the park, the same as we did last Sunday, and hear the preaching."
The next morning they were up at their accustomed hour and arrived at the works at Limehouse before the doors were opened. Presently some men and boys arrived, the doors were opened, and the two boys followed the others in.
"Hallo! who are you?" the man at the gate asked.
George gave their names, and the man looked at his time-book.
"Yes, it's all right; you are the new boys. You are to go into that planing-shop," and he pointed to one of the doors opening into the yard.
The boys were not long before they were at work. Bill was ordered to take planks from a large pile and to hand them to a man, who passed them under one of the planing-machines. George was told to take them away as fast as they were finished and pile them against a wall. When the machines stopped for any adjustment or alteration both were to sweep up the shavings and ram them into bags, in which they were carried to the engine-house.
For a time the boys were almost dazzled by the whirl of the machinery, the rapid motion of the numerous wheels and shafting overhead, and of the broad bands which carried the power from them to the machinery on the floor, by the storm of shavings which flew from the cutters, and the unceasing activity which prevailed around them. Beyond receiving an occasional order, shouted in a loud tone – for conversation in an ordinary voice would have been inaudible – nothing occurred till the bell rang at half-past eight for breakfast. Then the machinery suddenly stopped, and a strange hush succeeded the din which had prevailed.
"How long have we got now?" George asked the man from whose bench he had been taking the planks.
"Half an hour," the man said as he hurried away.
"Well, what do you think of it, Bill?" George asked when they had got outside.
"Didn't think as there could be such a row," Bill replied. "Why, talk about the Garden! Lor', why it aint nothing to it. I hardly knew what I was a-doing at first."
"No more did I, Bill. You must mind what you do and not touch any of those straps and wheels and things. I know when I was at Croydon there was a man killed in a sawmill there by being caught in the strap; they said it drew him up and smashed him against the ceiling. And now we had better look out for a baker's."
"I suppose there aint a coffee-stall nowhere handy?"
"I don't suppose there is, Bill; at any rate we have no time to spare to look for one. There's a pump in the yard, so we can have a drink of water as we come back. Well, the work doesn't seem very hard, Bill," George said as they ate their bread.
"No, it aint hard," Bill admitted, "if it weren't for all them rattling wheels. But I expect it aint going to be like that regular. They've just gived us an easy job to begin with. Yer'll see it will be worse presently."
"We shall soon get accustomed to the noise, Bill, and I don't think we shall find the work any harder. They don't put boys at hard work, but just jobs like we are doing, to help the men."
"What shall we do about night, George?"
"I think that at dinner-time we had better ask the man we work for. He looks a good-natured sort of chap. He may know of someone he could recommend us to."
They worked steadily till dinner-time; then as they came out George said to the man with whom they were working:
"We want to get a room. We have been lodging together in London, and don't know anyone down here. I thought perhaps you could tell us of some quiet, respectable people who have a room to let?"
The man looked at George more closely than he had hitherto done.
"Well, there aint many people as would care about taking in two boys, but you seem a well-spoken young chap and different to most of 'em. Do you think you could keep regular hours, and not come clattering in and out fifty times in the evening, and playing tom-fools' tricks of all sorts?"
"I don't think we should be troublesome," George said; "and I am quite sure we shouldn't be noisy."
"You would want to be cooked for, in course?"
"No, I don't think so," George said. "Beyond hot water for a cup of tea in the evening, we should not want much cooking done, especially if there is a coffee-stall anywhere where we could get a cup in the morning."
"You haven't got any traps, I suppose?"
George looked puzzled.
"I mean bed and chairs, and so on."
George shook his head.
"We might get them afterwards, but we haven't any now."
"Well, I don't mind trying you young fellows. I have got a bedroom in my place empty. A brother of mine who lodged and worked with me has just got a job as foreman down in the country. At any rate I will try you for a week, and if at the end of that time you and my missis don't get on together you must shift. Two bob a week. I suppose that will about suit you?"
George said that would suit very well, and expressed his thanks to the man for taking them in.
They had been walking briskly since they left the works, and now stopped suddenly before the door of a house in a row. It was just like its neighbor, except that George noticed that the blinds and windows were cleaner than the others, and that the door had been newly painted and varnished.
"Here we are," the man said. "You had best come in and see the missis and the room. Missis!" he shouted, and a woman appeared from the backroom. "I have let Harry's room, mother," he said, "and these are the new lodgers."
"My stars, John!" she exclaimed; "you don't mean to say that you let the room to them two boys. I should have thought you had better sense. Why, they will be trampling up and down the stairs like young hosses, wear out the oil cloth, and frighten the baby into fits. I never did hear such a thing!"
"I think they are quiet boys, Bessie, and won't give much trouble. At any rate I have agreed to try them for a week, and if you don't get on with them at the end of that time, of course they must go. They have only come to work at the shop to-day; they work with me, and as far as I can see they are quiet young chaps enough. Come along, lads, I will show you your room."
It was halfway up the stairs, at the back of the house, over the kitchen, which was built out there. It was a comfortable little room, not large, but sufficiently so for two boys. There was a bed, a chest of drawers, two chairs, and a dressing-table, and a strip of carpet ran alongside the bed, and there was, moreover, a small fireplace.
"Will that do for you?" the man asked.
"Capitally," George said; "it could not be nicer;" while Bill was so taken aback by its comfort and luxury that he was speechless.
"Well, that's settled, then," the man said. "If you have got any things you can bring 'em in when you like."
"We have not got any to speak of," George said, flushing a little. "I came up from the country three months ago to look for work, and beyond odd jobs I have had nothing to do since, so that everything I had is pretty well gone; but I can pay a week's rent in advance," he said, putting his hand in his pocket.
"Oh, you needn't mind that!" the man said; "as you work in the shop it's safe enough. Now I must get my dinner, else I shall be late for work."
"Well, Bill, what do you think of that?" George asked as they left the house.
"My eye," Bill exclaimed in admiration; "aint it nice just! Why, yer couldn't get a room like that, not furnished, anywhere near the market, not at four bob a week. Aint it clean just; so help me if the house don't look as if it has been scrubbed