  FIRST QUARTER IN THE FORGE “Hey-up!” “What’s up?” “Wake up!” “What’s the matter?” “Get up!” “Go to hell!” “You-u-u! Tell me to go to hell, will you? I’ll smash you. I’ll — I’ll — —” “Come on, then! Try it on! I’m not afraid of you! You’re nobody!” “Well, wake up! and jump about when I tell you.” “Wake up yourself, whitegut!” “Who are you calling whitegut, eh? Who are you calling whitegut?” “Who shot the sheep and had to pay for it?” “Blast you! I’ve had enough of your jaw. I’ll put your head in that bucket of oil.” “Will ya? You got to spell able first.” Scuffle, in which the younger is thrown down to the ground, after which he gets up and runs away, crying: “Baa-a-a!” “I’ll give you ‘Baa-a-a!’ Wait till I get hold of you!” “Baa-a-a! Baa-a-a!” “Take that! you-u-u!” throwing a lump of coal that misses him and goes flying through the office window. “Yes, and you’ll be doing it directly! ’Tis all your fault. If you was to look after your work instead of acting about so much that wouldn’t have happened. Blasted well light that fire up!” “Here’s the gaffer comin’.” “A good job too! I don’t trouble.” “What the hell’s up this end? Ya on a’ready this mornin’? I’ll send the pair of you home directly.” “’Tis my mate here. He’s the cause of everything. He’s no good to me. He won’t do nothing.” “D’ye hear this?” “I allus does mi whack.” “Don’t talk to me. Hello! What’s this ’ere? Who bin smashin’ the window? Ther’ll be hell to pop over this. If I reports ya you’ll be done for, both on ya.” “Please, sir, I kicked a piece of coke and it went through the pane.” “Hey?” “The hammer fled off the shaft and went through the window.” “Why the devil don’t you look after the shaft then, and keep the wedges tight. You’ll knock somebody’s head off presently. I daresay you was at that blasted football again. The first I ketches at it I’ll sack. Have un clean off the ground. I’ll give un football!” “Light that fire up, Laudy!” “Got a job on over ’ere, gaffer.” “Wha’s the trouble?” “How did that happen?” “Night chaps, I s’pose. ’Twas done when we got here this mornin’.” “You’re out for the rest o’ the wik then. Set yer mind at rest on that. Damn it! Everything happens on nights. This blasted night work’s a nuisance. Go and tell Deep Sea and fetch the brickies, and get they on to’t. Wher’s yer mates?” “Waitin’ instructions.” “They can go home, and stop ther’ if tha likes. Got nothin’ for ’em to do. Go and tell ’em.” “Sign this order, sir.” “Come on then, quick! No time to mess about with you. Hello! Bailey’s Best! Wha’s this for?” “Leg irons.” “You don’t want best for them. Cable’s good enough for they. What ya thinkin’ about?” “Have a look at this ’ere die, guvnor?” “Wha’s up wi’ he?” “Wants dressin’ out, or else re-cuttin’.” “Spit in him, and get yer iron hot!” “Wanted on the telephone, quick! Number fifteen shop.” “Got no coke out at the hip, gaffer!” “The water tank’s half empty.” “The glass on the boiler’s smashed.” “Please, sir, the chargeman’s out, and he got the key of the box.” “And my mate bin an’ squished the top of his finger half off.” “Damn good job, too! How many more on ya?” “Are you coming to answer number fifteen?” “Oh, be God!” “Steady on with that oil, Laudy! Steady on, I tell you! He’ll go off directly.” “BANG!” “There! What did I tell you!” “Oh, Christ! My eyes got it.” “Serves you damn well right! I told you on it. You got the front half out now. Get some oily waste.” “There’s plenty here.” “You haven’t got the back stopped up yet. Get some wet sand and stop that hole up. Now then! Be quick with you!” “Steady on a bit, then! I don’t want to get burned to death.” “Serve you right if you was to!” “Steady on, I say! Damn well do it yourself then! I’m not going to get myself burned.” “I shut him off. Make haste with you. Ya ready?” “Right.” Foo-oo-oo-oo-oo. “What a blasted smoke! Shut some of that oil off.” “Let it alone! That won’t hurt. We wants to get on.” “It gets down my inside. I shall spew in a minute.” “That’ll do you good.” “Shut some of it off.” “Let it alone, I tell you!” “I’m not going to be pizened.” “’Tis no worse for you than ’tis for me.” “I can’t see two yards.” “Hello! Hello! What the hell’s on there?” “’Sweep! Sweep! Sweep!” “Steady on with that oil, mate! We gets all the smoke here.” “Yes you can help it, too! Shut some of that oil off.” “That won’t make no difference.” “Wind off, mate! and hammer down. This is a bit too thick. Hey! Gaffer! Are we expected to work in this?” “That’ll kill the worms in yer guts.” “I can’t stand this. My head aches splittin’. I’m half-smothered.” “We don’t care a damn about the smoke, mate, as long as we can get the iron hot. ’Tis no worse for you than ’tis for the rest. If you don’t like it you can stop out. There’s plenty more to take yer place.” “That’s all you get for your trouble! Wants the inspector in here. It’s worse than bein’ up the chimmuck. Go on, mate! Hammer up, Jim.” “He’ll be all right directly, old man. He ain’t got hot yet.” “Hot, be hanged! He ought to be dropped in the middle of the sea, and you along with him! The pair of you ought to be down with the Titanic.” “Don’t talk wet!” “Come on, Laudy! and put some pieces in the fire.” “I ain’t filled the lubricators yet.” “Ain’t filled the lubricators! What ya bin at this half-hour?” “God! Give us a chance.” “’Twill be breakfast-time before we makes a start.” “I wish ’tood be! I wants mine.” “What the hell a’ ya talkin’ about?” “Baa-a-a!” “Now then! You knows what I told you! Get and put some pieces in the fire.” “Can’t find my tongs now.” “Chucked ’em down.” “What’s this here?” “That en’ them.” “Damn well go and look for ’em then. You’ll lose your head directly.” “Strike a light, mate! That key’s in there tight.” “Look out! Hold that bar up.” “I wants the tongs first.” “I shan’t hit you.” “I don’ know so much.” “Come on! A couple o’ blows’ll do the trick.” “Not in these trousers!” “Old Ernie’s thinkin’ about the Tango.” “The tangle, more likely.” “Don’t you worry, mate!” “Ya got him?” “Right!” Slap, slap, slap. “Whoa! Wait a minute. That hammer’s comin’ off.” “Hold him up.” “Is he shifted?” “He’s gone a bit, I think.” “Hold your hand the other side, and feel him.” “Now go on. Steady, mate!” Slap, slap. “Ho! Hooray!” “What did I tell you?” “Everybody’s doin’ it, doin’ it, doin’ it.” “Our mate’s strong this mornin’. He bin eatin’ onions.” “Give us a bit of that packing. That thin piece! Now get the pinch bar, and prise the monkey up.” “How’s that?” “A bit higher. Right! That’ll do.” “Ah! Slap him in.” “Give us the sledge.” “Get that big un.” “Shaft’s broke in two.” “Get the furnace one, then.” “How about packing?” “Same as before.” “Look out, then!” “Blow up, mate?” “Right away with you.” “How tight do you want him?” “As tight as you can get him. Slip him in. That’ll do now.” “Hey-yup! Hammer up. He’s burned a bit, mate.” “Be hanged! You only got half a piece.” “Can’t help it. That was stoppin’ to get the key out.” “Go on. Hit him!” Bang, bang, bang. “Whoa! That’ll do.” “What’s the dies like, chum?” “All right now.” “Blow up?” “Ah! Let’s have you.” “Tool up, mate!” “The chain’s twisted.” “Can’t you see it’s upside down! D’you want to smash the bounder? Now go on.” Bang. “Light again.” Bang. “That’ll do. Oil up.” Whizz. “As quick as you like, mate! We’ve got to move to-day. Hit him, there!” Bang, bang, bang. “Whoa! Tool up, quick! Light, now!” Bang. “One more. Light!” Bang. “That got him.” “Pi, Pi, Balli! All hot! All hot! Let’s have you!” Whizz. “Hooray!” “Not much afore breakfast, but look out aater!” “Wormy’s makin’ some scrap on the next fire. Look at ’im!” “Rat, O! Rat, O! Get that rat out o’ the fire, old man.” “Don’t burn ’em! Don’t burn ’em!” “Another snider, O!” “The blasted jumper won’t work.” “Oil they tongs a bit.” “Pizen that rat in the fire.” “Go to the boneyard and dig Smamer up, and fetch he back.” “What the hell are ya talking about? Don’t you never spile one?” “Hair off! Hair off!” “Don’t get your bracers twisted.” “Tell him off, kid.” “I’ll put my hand in your mouth directly.” “You’re the finest worm I’ve ever seen.” “Come on here, and not so much of your old buck!” “Damn well get away from here! Who the hell can hot iron with you about? Your face is enough to spoil anything.” “Get ’em hot! Get ’em hot!” “Get hold of that lever, you reptile!” “I’ve seen better things than you crawling on cabbages.” “How’s that? Will that do for you?” Whizz. Slap. “Get that muck out o’ your fire.” “Hit him hard! Right up.” Bang, bang, bang. Knock. “Keep off the top!” “You said right up.” “Shut some of that steam off.” “Steam’s all right.” “Shut it off, I tell you!” “Shut it off yourself! Mind the tongs, or you’ll get it.” Bang, bang, bang, bang. “Don’t answer me back or I’ll flatten you out.” “Nothing’s never right for you. You ought to be in a bigger town.” “Tool up, there!” “Rope’s off the wheel, mate!” “Shut the blasted wind off.” “He’s cut all to pieces.” “Tha’s knockin’ the top. I told you of it. I shall ast the gaffer for another mate. This’ll take us till dinner-time. Go and get the spanners, and ast Sid for a new rope, and look sharp about it!” “Now, Laudy! Wake up with you! We shan’t earn damn salt.” “I don’t trouble. I can’t help it.” “Tongs won’t hold ’em.” “Get another pair.” “Which uns?” “There’s plenty more about.” “I’m sick o’ this job.” “You don’t like work.” “’Cause you’re so fond of it!” “Don’t waste them ends off. They won’t fill up as it is.” “I reckon the fella as started work ought to come back and finish it.” Crack. Boom. Bump. “Don’t burn the damn things! Look at that! All over me.” “My clothes is afire.” “What’s yer little game there, eh? Med as well kill a fella as frighten him to death.” “Oo! My grub got it!” “Get these others out first.” “What O! I’m not goin’ to see my grub burn. What do you think?” “All the damn lot’ll be spoiled.” “I don’t care a cuss! I got some tiger in there.” “Steady that oil a bit.” “God! Doan it stink!” “Shut some of it off, I tell you. It’s running all over the place.” “Half on it’s water.” “That second one there, and keep to the top row.” “Hey-up!” Crack. “Why don’t you be careful?” “Back tool’s jammed now.” “The safety bolt’s broke.” “Shut the belt off.” “Look out, then!” “Stop the oil, and pull them others out.” “Let ’em alone! We shan’t be a minute.” “Well! Jump about then.” “Here’s Calliper King comin’!” “Tell him to clear off. We can do very well without him. That fellow makes me “If you was to put the spanner on the nuts sometimes you wouldn’t get half the trouble.” “All right, mate! There’s no damage done. We can’t think of everything.” “Your bearings are hot.” “They’ll get cold directly.” “You might get them seized.” “Damn good job! Shove some oil into ’em, kid!” “Who are you calling kid?” “Look out, there!” “I shall report you, mind!” “You can please yourself. ’Twon’t be the first time. If you’ll only keep out o’ the road we shall be all right. Blow up, Laudy!” Foo-oo-oo-oo-oo. “Pull the belt over.” “Right?” “I’m ready.” “Take him, then.” Crack. Click, clack. Bump. “How’s that?” “That got him. Now we shan’t be long!” “Yip ho! All new uns!” “Is he any good?” “Kill at hundred and twenty.” “What? Inches?” “Inches be damned! Yards, man!” “You never killed anything with him.” “Ain’t he, though? I know he have.” “What have you killed? A dead cat?” “Dead cat! You’re afraid to let me try him on you.” “You couldn’t hit a barn door.” “I tell you what I done.” “What’s that? Oh! I know. Who shot the sheep? Baa-a-a!” “Shut your blasted head!” “Pride o’ the Prairie! Got any cartridges?” “Half a boxful.” “Slugs or bullets?” “Slugs.” “Let’s have a look!” “Get this work done first. ’Twill be breakfast-time directly.” “Hey-up! He’s slightly wasted.” “I should blasted well think so.” Crack. Boom. “Hello! There’s another snider!” Bang. “Keep him there! We don’t want your scrap.” “Pi, Pi, Balli! Tha’s a good heat, mate!” “We haven’t done anything yet.” “What! Tell somebody else that yarn! Hear that, Jim?” “Wha’s up?” “Chargeman says we ain’t done nothin’ yet.” “More we ain’t, have us?” “I didn’t think we had.” “You bin asleep an’ only just woke up. All good uns, too.” “We shall want ’em, bi what I can see on it.” “What d’ya mean?” “Look at the next hammer! They won’t start to-day.” “How’s that, mate?” Whizz. “Mind my toe.” “Good shot, that!” “Cool your tongs out.” “Have a drink.” “Put it on the anvil.” Bang, bang, bang. “Whoa! Tool.” “Ain’t he slippy!” “Light blow.” Bang. “That takes a bit of doing, one hand!” “Come on, Lightning!” “Unknown swank!” “All hot! All hot!” “You’ll get the price cut directly.” “Come and see the boys!” “I’m a-lookin’ at ya!” “Ain’t a burned one yet.” “Don’t make a song about it.” “You got a good mate on the hammer.” “Fifty without stoppin’ the wind. All new uns!” “See who you are!” “Stand back, and mind the mallet! There’s one for you, Wormy!” “Take a couple, mate?” Slap, slap. Bang, bang, bang. Bang, bang, bang. “Fire’s gettin’ low. Wants some more coke up.” “Wher’ d’ye want thase few pieces, Willums!” “Tip ’em up anywhere, Mat!” “All you’ll get to-day.” “You’re talking wet. They won’t last five minutes.” “You’ll hef to see gaffer, then. We got to “Get out of the road, or you’ll get your whiskers singed.” “Dossent thee fret thy kidneys. This is too damn hot for me. You got no room to mauve.” “Somebody got to do a bit.” “Thee dossent do’t all.” “You’d have to go home if I did.” “Top hammer’s stopped now. Middle un’s ready.” “What’s up a-top? Going to start, there? See that rope’s all right! Have the sharp edges took off the wheel.” “We be done for.” “What’s the matter?” “Top block broke. Only had forty more to do.” “Ram up, and get your dies out. Give a hand there, mates.” “’Tis all bad luck this mornin’, ain’ it?” “’Tis the chaps as make the luck. What do you think? We get on all right.” “Here’s the bummer in a tear.” “I asked the fitters to see to it, and they wouldn’t come.” “That block was never strong enough for the job.” “Go an’ fetch Moses. What ya goin’ to put in next?” “Pull-rod levers. Die seventy-two.” “Don’ want them. Put in hunderd an’ one.” “Chargeman says levers. Wanted urgent. Chaps bin up after ’em.” “Let ’em wait. I’m the foreman. You knows that.” “All right. Don’ make no difference to me.” “Did you send for me?” “I did. Get on wi’ new blocks for piston rods.” “Any alterations?” “Not as I knows on.” “We’ve had complaints about the others.” “I don’t care. Let ’em file ’em. The devils be never satisfied.” “Better have ’em a bit stiffer?” “They’m stiff enough. They wasn’t set level.” “They was as level as a billiard table, gaffer!” “I could a’ shoved my finger underneath ’em.” “I had ’em packed tight everywhere.” “Then you didn’t have yer iron hot. ’Tis no good to arg’ the point. Take care wi’ the next lot, mind!” “Let him go to hell! He’d make anybody a damn liar. Key out. Hang on to that spanner. Damp up, and shut the blower off. Fetch the iron trucks. We shall want some help to get these out o’ the way.” “Billy, sing that song, That good old song to me!” “I can’t. My leg’s bad.” “That won’t hurt your leg, will it? I wants your hand, not your leg. ’Tis all in the gang.” “I got one stuck on the jumper.” “All right. Blind you! We’ll do it ourselves. This is a show! Come on, mates! Keep the handles down, and mind he don’t tip.” “Give him a blow on that bar to get him off the jumper, can’t ya; and don’t stick up there doin’ nothin’. You ain’t heard our mate’s new nickname, have you, Wormy?” “No. What’s that?” “Flannel. Know why that is?” “No.” “Cos water allus makes him shrink. Look at him! The only curly-headed boy in the family!” “You hump-backed, monkey-faced baa-boon! You broke loose from the Zoo, you did. I won’t hit another stroke for nobody, now, damn if I do!” “Get out! I’ll spiflicate you!” “I’ll bash the tongs across your head.” “What ya goin’ to do? Take that! Now what ya goin’ to do? I’ve had enough of your jaw.” “Let the kid alone, can’t you!” “I’ll get my own back on him, before night, see if I don’t. I’ll drop the hammer on his head.” “Fetch him out, Wormy!” “Hey-yup!” Whizz-z-z. “Keep that hammer still, will ya! Hit him if you dares! Now go on. Steady!” Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang. Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang. “Blast you! What a’ you doin’? You smashed him all to pieces.” “I told you I’d do it.” “Workin’ your breakfast-time, there?” “Goin’ to keep on all day?” “Ain’t you goin’ to chuck up?” “How’s the balance?” “What! only just started?” “Whack ’em along!” “How many more?” “Work ’em out!” “What time is it?” “’Ere’s old Sid with the checks!” “What’s up, Flannigan?” “Only wants two minutes!” “Flatfoot’s gone by.” “You’re on late, mate!” “What’s going to happen?” “Got a book-ful?” “Tool up, there!” “Put him up yourself!” “Put that tool up, Wormy, and catch hold o’ that lever.” “Light blow!” Bang. “Whoa! That’ll do.” “What cheer, Sid!” “Stand back, here, and let’s get by.” “Wants a lot o’ room for a little un, don’t ya?” “Not so much as you. Not so much as you. My time’s precious, not like yourn. We got summat to do, we have.” “Goin’ to have your bit o’ brass when I offers it to you?” “Put him on the anvil.” “Shan’t! Take him in your hand. Lose him, and then blame me.” “My hand’s oiley!” “Don’ matter! Wipe him in your breeches, can’t you? Come on, kidney bean-stick!” “Little fat maggot!” “Go on, bones!” “Pimple on a cabbage!” “Alpheus!” “Sideus!” “Nemo mortalium omnibus horis sapit!” “sf?a??d????a??????t??.” “Lend my father your wheelbarrow!” “Using your knife breakfast-time, kid?” “No! I got bread and scrape.” “Who got the frying-pan?” “You can have him for a fag.” “I got a bit o’ dead dog, I have.” “What d’ya call it? Looks like a bit of Irish.” “That never died a natural death!” “That drove many a man up a tree!” “Lend us that catalogue of firearms, Dick!” “He’s underneath the bucket.” “How much longer ya going to keep on?” “I wants to get my blocks right afore breakfast.” “Laudy! You left that rotten stinking oil on.” “No, I didn’t!” “Yes you did! Stop it off, and put that board in the hole!” “I tell you it’s shut off. That’s only the stink you can smell.” “Ain’t it damn hot! We shall be dead afore night.” “Hit him, Wormy!” Bang, bang, bang. “Whoa!” “What’s the die like?” “Wants to go over a bit yet.” “Chuck it up!” “Lie down, can’t you!” “Mind your own business!” “Put him through the tool.” “Got the coke ready for after breakfast, Jim?” “Ah!” “I’m going to put you through your facings, by and by.” “I don’t trouble! I ben’ a-goin’ to work no harder for nobody.” “Look out for Ratty! He’s peepin’ about. He’s going to report the first one as puts his coat on afore the hooter goes.” “He’s worse than old Wanky!” “’Tis all damn watchmen here!” “How’s the minutes?” “It’s quarter past.” “There’s the buzzer!” “There he goes!” “Tools down, mates!” “Whack ’em down!” “Hooter!” “Hoo-ter-r!” “Hoo-oo-ter-r-r!” |
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