Tales of Mean Streets | Page 8

client of the rector, had
not that zealot hastened to discover a vacancy for a warehouse porter,
the offer of presentation whereunto alienated Billy Chope forever. But
there were meetings and demonstrations of the unemployed; and it was
said that shillings had been given away; and, as being at a meeting in a
street was at least as amusing as being in a street where there was no
meeting, Billy often went, on the off chance. But his lot was chiefly
disappointment: wherefore he became more especially careful to
furnish himself ere he left home.
For certain weeks cash came less freely than ever from the two women.
Lizer spoke of providing for the necessities of the expected child: a
manifestly absurd procedure, as Billy pointed out, since, if they were
unable to clothe or feed it, the duty would fall on its grandmother. That
was law, and nobody could get over it. But even with this argument, a
shilling cost him many more demands and threats than it had used, and
a deal more general trouble.
At last Lizer ceased from going to the pickle factory, and could not
even help Billy's mother at the mangle for long. This lasted for near a

week, when Billy, rising at ten with a bad mouth, resolved to stand no
nonsense, and demanded two shillings.
'Two bob! Wot for?' Lizer asked.
'`Cos I want it. None o' yer lip!'
'Ain't got it,' said Lizer, sulkily.
'That's a bleed'n' lie!'
'Lie yerself!'
'I'll break y'in 'arves, ye blasted 'eifer!' He ran at her throat and forced
her back over a chair. 'I'll pull yer face auf! If y' don't give me the
money, gawblimy, I'll do for ye!'
Lizer strained and squalled. 'Le' go! You'll kill me an' the kid too!' she
grunted, hoarsely. Billy's mother ran in and threw her arms about him,
dragging him away. 'Don't, Billy!' she said, in terror. 'Don't, Billy--not
now! You'll get in trouble. Come away. She might go auf, an' you'd get
in trouble!'
Billy Chope flung his wife over and turned to his mother. 'Take yer
'ands auf me,' he said; 'go on, or I'll gi' ye somethin' for yerself!' And he
punched her in the breast by way of illustration.
'You shall 'ave what I've got, Billy, if it's money,' the mother said. 'But
don't go an' git yerself in trouble, don't. Will a shillin' do!'
'No, it won't. Think I'm a bloomin' kid? I mean 'avin' two bob this
mornin'.'
'I was a-keepin' it for the rent, Billy but--'
'Yus; think o' the bleed'n' lan'lord 'fore me, doncher?' And he pocketed
the two shillings. 'I ain't settled with you yut, my gal,' he added to Lizer;
'mikin' about at 'ome an' 'idin' money. You wait a bit!'

Lizer had climbed into an erect position, and, gravid and slow, had got
as far as the passage. Mistaking this for a safe distance, she replied with
defiant railings.
Billy made for her with a kick that laid her on the lower stairs, and,
swinging his legs round his mother as she obstructed him, entreating
him not to get in trouble, he attempted to kick again in a more telling
spot. But a movement among the family upstairs and a tap at the door
hinted of interference, and he took himself off.
Lizer lay doubled up on the stairs, howling; but her only articulate cry
was: 'Gawd 'elp me, it's comin'!'
Billy went to the meeting of the unemployed, and cheered a proposal to
storm the Tower of London. But he did not join the procession
following a man with a handkerchief on a stick, who promised
destruction to every policeman in his path: for he knew the fate of such
processions. With a few others he hung about the nearest tavern for
awhile, on the chance of the advent of a flush sailor from St.
Katherine's, disposed to treat out-o'-workers. Then he went alone to a
quieter beer-house and took a pint or two at his own expense. A glance
down the music-hall bills hanging in the bar having given him a notion
for the evening, he bethought himself of dinner, and made for home.
The front door was open, and in the first room, where the mangle stood,
there were no signs of dinner. And this was at three o'clock! Billy
pushed into the room behind, demanding why.
'Billy,' Lizer said, faintly, from her bed, 'look at the baby!'
Something was moving feebly under a flannel petticoat. Billy pulled
the petticoat aside, and said: 'That? Well, it is a measly snipe.' It was a
blind, hairless humunculus, short of a foot long, with a skinny face set
in a great skull. There was a black bruise on one side from hip to armpit.
Billy dropped the