Our Frank | Page 8

solitude of Green Highlands and the deeper quiet of the woods, it felt like getting into the world, and he looked down at his clothes, and wondered how they would suit a large town. He wore a smock, high brown leather gaiters reaching almost to his thighs, and very thick hobnailed boots. He wished he had his Sunday coat on instead of the smock, but the rest of the things would do very well, and they were so strong and good that they would last a long time. So this point settled he trudged on again, till, by twelve o'clock, he saw Wickham in the distance with its gabled red houses and tall factory buildings. And now that he was so near, his courage forsook him a little, and he felt that he was a very small weak boy, and that the factories were full of bustling work-people who would take no notice of him. He stood irresolute in the street, wondering to whom he ought to apply, and presently his eye was attracted to the window of a small baker's shop near. Through this he saw a kind-looking round-faced woman, who stood behind the counter knitting. Just in front of her there was, curled round, a sleek black cat, and she stopped in her work now and then to scratch its head gently with her knitting-pin. Somehow this encouraged Frank, and entering he put his question timidly, in his broad Buckinghamshire accent.
The woman smiled at him good-naturedly.
"From the country, I reckon?" she said, not answering his question.
"Ah," replied Frank, "I be."
"You're a dillicate little feller to be trampin' about alone seekin' work," she said, considering him thoughtfully. "Is yer mother livin'?"
"Ah," said Frank again, casting longing eyes at a crisp roll on the counter.
"Then why don't yer bide at home," asked the woman, "and work there?"
"I want to get more wage," said Frank, who was feeling hungrier every minute with the smell of the bread. "I'll be obliged to yer if ye'll tell me how I could git taken on at the factory."
"You must go and ask at the overseer's office up next street, where you see a brass plate on the door--name of Green. But bless yer 'art, we've lads enough and to spare in Wickham; I doubt they won't want a country boy who knows nought of the trade."
"I can try," said Frank; "and I learn things quick. Schoolmaster said so."
The woman shook her head.
"You'd be better at home, my little lad," she said, "till you're a bit older. There's no place like home."
Those same words had been sounding in Frank's ears all night. They seemed to meet him everywhere, he thought, like a sort of warning. Nevertheless he was not going to give up his plan, and having learned the direction of the overseer's office he turned to leave the shop.
"And here's summat to set yer teeth in as you go along," said the woman, holding out a long roll of bread. "Growing lads should allus be eatin'."
"Thank you, ma'am," said Frank, and he took off his cap politely, as he had been taught at school, and went his way.
"As pretty behaved as possible," murmured the woman as she looked after him, "and off with his hat like a prince. What sort o' folks does he belong to, I wonder!"
The overseer's office was a small dark room with a high desk in it, at which sat a sandy-haired red-faced man, with his hat very much on the back of his head. He was talking in a loud blustering voice to several workmen, and as Frank entered he heard the last part of the speech.
"So you can tell Smorthwaite and the rest of 'em that they can come on again on the old terms, but they'll not get a farthing more. Well, boy," as he noticed Frank standing humbly in the background, "what do you want?"
Mr Green's manner was that of an incensed and much-tried man, and Frank felt quite afraid to speak.
"Please, sir," he said, "do you want a boy in the factory?"
"Do I want a boy!" repeated the overseer, addressing the ceiling in a voice of despair. "No, of course I don't want a boy. If I had my will I'd have no boys in the place--I'm sick of the sight of boys."
He bent his eyes on a newspaper before him, and seemed to consider the matter disposed of; but Frank made one more timid venture.
"Please, sir," he said, going close up to the desk, "I'd work very stiddy."
Mr Green peered over his high desk at the sound of the small persistent voice, and frowned darkly.
"Clear out!" he said with a nod of his head towards the door; "don't stop here talking nonsense. Out you go!"
Frank dared not stay; he slunk out into the street