Bindle: Some Chapters in the Life of Joseph Bindle Read online

  CHAPTER V

  BINDLE TRIES A CHANGE OF WORK

  "Paintin' 'as its points," Bindle would remark, "that is, providin' itain't outdoor paintin', when you're either on top of a ladder, whichmay be swep' from under yer and bang yer goes to Kingdom Come, or elseyou're 'angin' like a bally worm on an 'ook."

  In the spring when moving was slack, Bindle invariably found a job as apainter. It was shortly after his encounter with Professor Conti thathe heard hands were wanted at the Splendid Hotel, where a permanentstaff of painters and decorators was kept. It was the pride of themanagement to keep the hotel spotless, and as it was always full, togive a wing bodily over to the painters and decorators would mean aconsiderable loss of revenue. Consequently all the work of renovationwas done during the night.

  The insides of the bedrooms were completely redecorated within thespace of twenty-four hours. All corridors and common-rooms were donebetween midnight and the hot-water hour, special quick-drying materialsbeing used; but most important of all was the silence of the workers.

  "The bloomin' miracles," Bindle called the little army that transformedthe place in the course of a few hours.

  When first told of the system he had been incredulous, and on applyingfor a job to the foreman in charge he remarked:

  "I've 'eard tell of dumb dawgs, mebbe it's true, and dumb waiters; butdumb painters--I won't believe it--it ain't natural."

  The foreman had eyed him deliberately; then in a contemptuous tone,remarked:

  "If you get this job you've got to go without winkin' or breathin' incase you make a noise. If you want to cough you've got to choke; ifyou want to sneeze you've got to bust instead. You'll get to like itin time."

  "Sounds pleasant," remarked Bindle drily; "still, I'll join," he addedwith decision, "though it's like bein' a night-watchman in a museum."

  The hours were awkward and the restrictions severe, but the pay wasgood, and Bindle had in his mind's eye the irate form of Mrs. Bindlewith her inevitable interrogation, "Got a job?"

  "You starts at eleven p.m.," proceeded the foreman, "and you leaves offat eight next mornin'--if you're lucky. If y'ain't you gets the sack,and leaves all the same."

  At first Bindle found the work inexpressibly dreary. To be within afew yards of a fellow-creature and debarred from speaking to him was anentirely new experience. Time after time he was on the point ofventuring some comment, checking himself only with obvious effort. Hesoon discovered, however, that if he were to make no noise he mustdevote his entire attention to his work.

  "Mustn't drop a bloomin' brush, or fall over a bloomin' paint-pot," hegrumbled, "but wot yer gets the sack. Rummy 'ole, this."

  Once his brush slipped from his hand, but by a masterly contortion herecovered it before it reached the ground. The foreman, who happenedto be passing at the time, eyed him steadily for several seconds, thenwith withering scorn remarked in a hoarse whisper as he turned on hisheel:

  "Paintin's your job, slippery, not jugglin'."

  Not to be able to retort and wither an opponent was to Bindle a newexperience; but to remain silent in the face of an insult from aforeman was an intolerable humiliation. To Bindle foremen were theepitome of evil. He had once in a moment of supreme contempt remarkedto his brother-in-law:

  "Call yerself a man, 'Oly Moses! I've seen better things than you inbloomin' foremen's jobs!"

  Mr. Hearty had not appreciated the withering contempt that underlaythis remark, being too much aghast at its profanity. Bindle had saidto his wife:

  "You and 'Earty is always so busy lookin' for sin that you ain't timeto see a joke."

  Bindle quickly tired of the work, and after a few days allowed it totranspire, as if quite casually, that he was a man of many crafts. Hegave his mates to understand, for instance, that he was a carpenter ofsuch transcendental ability as to be entirely wasted as a painter. Hethrew out the hint in the hope that it might reach the ears of theforeman and result in an occasional change of work.

  He was inexpressibly weary of this silent painting. The world hadchanged for him.

  "Sleepin' all the sunny day," he grumbled, "and dabbin' on paint allthe bloomin' night; not allowed to blow yer nose, an' me not knowin'the deaf-and-dumb alphabet."

  He would probably have been more content had it not been for theforeman. He had known many foremen in his time, but this man carriedoffensiveness to the point of inspiration. He had been at his presentwork for many years, and was consequently well versed in the arts ofconveying insult other than by word of mouth.

  He was possessed of many gestures so expressive in their power ofhumiliating contempt, that upon Bindle their effect was the same as ifhe had been struck in the face. One of these Bindle gathered he hadlearned from a sailor, who had assured him that in Brazil theinevitable response was the knife. Ever after, Bindle had a greatrespect for the Brazilian, and the laws of a country that permitted thearbitrary punishment of silent insult.

  Henceforward the foreman became the centre of Bindle's thoughts. Toogenial and happy-go-lucky by nature himself to nourish any enmityagainst his superior, Bindle was determined to teach him a lesson,should the chance occur. The man was a bully, and Bindle dislikedbullies. At last his chance came, much to Bindle's satisfaction, as aresult of his own foresight in allowing it to become known that hepossessed some ability as a carpenter.

  The third floor corridor, known as No. 1 East, was to be redecorated.In painting the doors all the numbers, which were separate figures ofgun-metal, had to be removed before the painting was commenced andreplaced after it was completed. This required great care, not onlythat the guests might not be awakened, but that the partially driedpaint might not be smeared. The foreman always performed this delicateoperation himself, regarding it as of too great importance to entrustto a subordinate.

  On this particular occasion, however, the foreman had received aninvitation to a beanfeast at Epping. This was for the Saturday, andthe corridor was to be redecorated on the Friday night. As an earlystart was to be made, the foreman was anxious to get away and obtainsome sleep that he might enjoy the day to its full extent.

  He had done all he could to postpone the work until the next week, butwithout success, so it became necessary for him either to find asubstitute, or go weary-eyed and sleepless to his pleasure.

  For a man of the social temperament of the foreman to decline such aninvitation was unthinkable.

  Just as he had arrived at the conclusion that he would have to gostraight from work, his eye lighted on Bindle, and remembering what hehad heard about his varied abilities, he beckoned him to follow to aroom that temporarily served as an Office of Works. Inside the roomBindle gazed expectantly at his superior.

  "I 'ear you've been a carpenter," the foreman began.

  "Funny 'ow rumours do get about," remarked Bindle pleasantly. "Iremember when my brother-in-law, 'Earty's 'is name--ever met him?Quaint ole bird, 'Earty.--Well, when 'e----"

  "Never mind 'im," returned the foreman, "can you 'andle a screw-driver?"

  "'Andle any think except a woman. Married yerself?" Bindleinterrogated with significance.

  Ignoring the question the foreman continued: "Can you take the numbersoff them rosy doors in the east corridor, and put 'em back againto-night without makin' a stutterin' row?"

  "Me?" queried Bindle in surprise.

  "I got to go to a funeral," continued the foreman, avoiding Bindle'seye, "an' I want to get a bit o' sleep first."

  Bindle eyed his superior curiously.

  "Funny things, funerals," he remarked casually. "Goin' to 'ave acornet on the 'earse?"

  "A what?"

  "The last time I went to a funeral the guv'nor saw me on the box, nextto Ole 'Arper, and all the boys a-shoutin' somethink about 'Ope andGlory. The ole guv'nor didn't ought to 'ave been out so early. Ole'Arper could play; 'e'd wake a 'ole village while another man wasthinkin' about it," he added reminiscently.

  "It's my mother wot's dead," said the foreman dully, une
qual to thetask of stemming the tide of Bindle's loquacity and at the same timekeeping on good terms with him.

  "Yer mother? I'm sorry. Buryin' 'is mother twice got 'Oly Jim into an'orrible mess. He fixed 'er funeral for February--all serene; but wotmust he go an' do, the silly 'Uggins, but forget all about it and starta-buryin' of 'er again in June. 'Is guv'nor used to keep a book o'buryin's, and it took Jim quite a long time to explain that 'is buryin'of 'er twice all come about through 'im bein' a twin."

  The foreman's impatience was visibly growing. "Never you mind aboutJim, 'oly or otherwise. Can yer take off and put on again themnumbers?"

  Then after a pause he added casually, nodding in the direction of acupboard in the corner:

  "There's a couple of bottles o' beer and some bread an' cheese an'pickles in that cupboard."

  Bindle's face brightened, and thus it was that the bargain was struck.

  When Bindle left the room it was with the knowledge that his superiorhad been delivered into his hands. He did not then know exactly how heintended to compass the foreman's downfall. Inspiration would comelater. It was sufficient for him to know that correction was to beadministered where correction was due.

  In Bindle there was a strong sense of justice, and his sympathies wereall with his mates, who suffered the foreman's insults rather than losegood jobs. Bindle was always popular with his fellow-workers. Theyliked and respected him. He was free with his money, always ready witha joke or a helping hand, was sober and clean of speech withoutappearing to notice any defect in others save on very rare occasions.He had been known to fight and beat a bigger man than himself to save awoman from a thrashing, and when Mrs. Bindle had poured down reproachesupon his head on account of his battered appearance, he had silentlygone to bed and simulated sleep, although every inch of his body ached.

  It was about nine o'clock in the evening that the foreman had seen inBindle the means of his obtaining some sleep and arriving at hisbean-feast refreshed. At eleven o'clock he left the hotel, afterhaving given to his deputy the most elaborate instructions. Hisparting words filled Bindle with unholy joy.

  "If anythin' goes wrong I'll lose my job, and don't you forget it."Bindle promised himself that he would not.

  "I'll not forget it, ole son," he murmured, with the light of joy inhis eyes. "I'll not forget it. It's your beano to-morrow, but it'sgoin' to be mine to-night. Last week yer sacked poor ole Teddy Snell,an' 'im wi' seven kids," and Bindle smiled as St. George might havesmiled on seeing the dragon.

  For some time after the foreman's departure, Bindle cogitated as to howto take full advantage of the situation which had thus providentiallypresented itself. Plan after plan was put aside as unworthy of theoccasion.

  There are great possibilities for "little jokes" in hotels. Bindleremembered an early effort of his when a page-boy. The employment hadbeen short-lived, for on his first day the corridors were beingrecarpeted. The sight of a large box of exceedingly long carpet nailsleft by the workmen at night had given him an idea. He had crept fromhis room and carefully lifted the carpet for the whole length of thecorridor, inserting beneath it scores of carpet nails points upwards;later he had sounded the fire alarm and watched with glee the visitorsrush from their rooms only to dance about in anguish on the points ofthe nails, uttering imprecations and blasphemies.

  This effort had cost him his job and a thrashing from his father, butit had been worth it.

  It was, however, merely the crude attempt of a child.

  It was one of the chambermaids, a rosy-cheeked girl recently up fromthe country, who gave Bindle the idea he had been seeking. As he wasunscrewing the numbers with all the elaborate caution of a burglar, hefelt a hand upon his shoulder, and found the chambermaid beside him.

  "Mind you put them numbers back right," she whispered, "or I shan'tknow t'other from which."

  Bindle turned and eyed her gravely.

  "My dear," he remonstrated, "I'm a married man, and if Mrs. Bindle wasto see you wi' yer arm round me neck--wot!"

  The pretty chambermaid had soundly boxed his ears.

  "A girl would have to have tired arms to rest them round _your_ neck,"she whispered, and tripped off down the corridor.

  For some minutes Bindle worked mechanically. His mind was busy withthe chambermaid's remark. At the end of half an hour all the numberswere removed and the painters busy on the doors. Bindle returned tothe Office of Works.

  "'Oly angels," he muttered joyously, as he attacked the bread andcheese and pickles, and poured out a glass of beer. "'Oly angels, if Iwas to forget, and get them numbers mixed, an' them bunnies wasn't ableto get back to their 'utches!"

  He put down his glass, choking. When he had recovered his breath, hewiped his eyes with the back of his hand, finished his meal, andreturned to the corridor.

  It was the rule of the hotel that no workmen should be seen about afterseven-thirty. Just before that hour Bindle had completed his work ofreplacing the numbers on the doors, and had removed from the corridorthe last traces of the work that had been in progress. He returned tothe Office of Works which commanded a view of the whole length of theEast Corridor. He was careful to leave the door ajar so that he had anuninterrupted view. He sat down and proceeded to enjoy the morningpaper which the "Boots" had brought him, the second bottle of theforeman's beer, and the remains of the bread and cheese.

  "Shouldn't be surprised if things was to 'appen soon," he murmured, ashe rose and carefully folded the newspaper.