VII THE USURPER

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He told some friends whom he caught up on the way that his was a position of pretty middling tidy responsibility, and when he spoke more freely on the topic they gave a whistle which conveyed an amount of astonishment that proved gratifying. The lad explained to each in turn that his mother was an uncommonly good manager, able to make a penny go as far as some could use a shilling; each made the identical reply before selecting a turning on the right of Kingsland Road, that it must nevertheless be a close fit, and added, “Stick to it, old man; wish you better luck,” with all the solemnity and earnestness of boys who have but recently started work. One or two acquaintances shouted to him from the tops of electric trams, flying Stamford Hill way, indicating by signs the existence of a vacant seat; he shook his head and marched on. Three girls, making their way home by a series of spasmodic rushes, with at intervals hysterical appeals to each other not to act the silly (being, in fact, so delighted at release from work that they scarcely knew how to make proclamation of their happiness)—these snatched at his cap and, a few yards off, threw it back to him, taking at once to their heels, and later becoming extremely indignant because he had not respected the rules of the game by chasing them and administering punishment in the shape of a blow on the shoulder. Their annoyance at his reticent manner was so great that they presently waited, demanding of him when he arrived whether he thought himself everybody. Failing to obtain an answer, they furnished estimates on their own account, asserting (by happy choice of words) that he was deaf, dumb, or dotty; he did not trouble to contradict, and they gave him up. Nearing home, he increased his frown of importance.

“’Ullo, Tommy!”

“‘Thomas,’ if you please,” he said, bending to kiss the child; “and don’t let me catch you again swinging on this gate. You’ll have the whole row of palings down, that’s what you’ll be doing. Big, clumsy girl like you.”

The youngster, gratified by this compliment, took his hand, and led him to the front door, where she cried “Mother!” with a strong accent on the second syllable; on gaining a reply of “Now begin your nonsense again,” she announced the arrival. The boy hung his cap behind the door, and threw himself into an easy chair.

“No,” he answered, with an exhausted air, “I can’t play games with you this evening. Yes, yes, I know I used to; but them times are all past and gone. You’re too young to understand, my girl, and it’s as well you are, but life’s a serious matter. Tell me, how’ve you been getting on at school to-day?”

“Teacher give me a rap over the knuckles.”

“I don’t like that.”

“I didn’t like it, neither.”

“What I mean is,” he went on, “that a little girl like you ought to do her best to learn all she can whilst she’s got the opportunities. If you don’t, why, later on, when it’s too late, you’ll be sorry. In the meantime, you want to do all you can to pick up everything at school, and not give your teachers opportunity for being cross with you in any shape or form whatsoever. You hear what I’m telling you. What’s mother singing for?”

“Put this top somewhere,” suggested the child, “whilst I turn my face to the wall—I won’t look, truth and honour—and then you tell me when I’m getting warm and when I’m getting cold.”

“Let’s hear you spell it!”The little person, found guilty of spelling top with two p’s, not only had to accept a severe reprimand, but was called upon to spell pot, and pop, and one or two other words; when she had gone through the examination the boy agreed to conceal the article, and she set about with great enthusiasm on the task of finding it, but the game was so frequently interfered with by his admonitions concerning present behaviour, by warnings regarding future conduct, that she did not hide her satisfaction when the mother brought in his tea. The child was allowed to stand by and receive the top of the egg.

“Yes,” admitted the mother, in answer to his challenge, “I am in rather good spirits. Would you like a second cup, Tommy, or another slice of bread and butter? You’ve only to say the word.”

“These are not times,” he decided, “for a man to make a hog of himself. You must arrange for the money to last as long as it possibly can, mother. Watch every penny. Don’t let there be nothing in the shape of waste.”

“I managed, my dear,” she retorted, with spirit, “when your father was in work, and earning 35s. a week, and I’ve somehow managed during the last six weeks on your money alone. It’s took a bit of doing,” she sighed, “but I’ve done it.”

“Set down and rest for a moment,” recommended the boy. “Expect you’re like me—you’ve had a hard day of it.”

The little girl was expelled from the room for the reason that her mother, in sitting, found the concealed wooden top. The two were left to converse together; the boy found a crumpled cigarette in his pocket, and his mother, hunting for matches, sang the first lines of a song that belonged to her early youth.

“I’ve got no objection,” he said, speaking with deliberation, between the puffs, “to you being light-’earted, but I hope you realise, mother, that I’m having to stint myself pretty considerably in order that you should make both ends meet.”

“You’re a good lad,” she agreed, “as lads go nowadays!”

“I deny myself several luxuries, such as the first ’ouse at the local Empire, something extra for lunch, a new necktie for Sundays. This fag that I’m smoking at the present moment was given to me. I bring ’ome every penny I earn, and if I ’appen by any chance to make a bit extra, why, I bring that ’ome as well. I don’t begrudge it in the least; shouldn’t like you to think that of me, mother; all I want you to do is to recognise it. And if you care to mention the fact to neighbours, or friends, or even to relatives, why, there’s no objection on my part.”

“I’ve never made no secret of it, my dear,” she declared, reassuringly. “Your Aunt Mary was in only this afternoon, and you know what an inquisitive one she is. She brings a small pot of jam, and always expects about a ton of information in exchange. Wanted to know how I managed, and whether we was running into debt, and how long it was likely to last, and I don’t know what all. I didn’t tell her everything, but I did mention that if it hadn’t been for you I don’t know where we should have found ourselves.”

“And what did she say?”

“Said I ought to be proud of you. Said she wished she had a son like you.” He nodded approvingly, and continued to listen. “Said that, considering you only left school seven months ago—”

“Eight months.”

“—you might reckon yourself a credit to the family.”

“Anything else?”

“That’s all she said about you.”

He stretched himself, enjoying luxuriously the end of his cigarette.

“But,” going on with relish, “I was able to take her down a peg before she went. Never said nothing about it until just as she was going, and then I told her, what I’m now going to tell you, my dear, and that is this: your father’s been taken back by his old firm, and he started earning good money this very day. Wherever are you off to in such a hurry?”

The boy snatched his cap from the wooden peg. He strode out by the front door, and walked away towards Dalston Junction, frowning.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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