The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists. Robert Tressell

The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists - Robert Tressell


Скачать книгу
it like that.’

      ‘I know my missis – for one – wouldn’t ‘ave a feller like that in our place. We ‘ad a lodger once and she found out that ‘e was a freethinker or something, and she cleared ‘im out, bloody quick, I can tell yer!’

      ‘Oh, by the way,’ said Easton, glad of an opportunity to change the subject, ‘you don’t happen to know of anyone as wants a room, do you? We’ve got one more than we want, so the wife thought that we might as well let it.’

      Crass thought for a moment. ‘Can’t say as I do,’ he answered, doubtfully. ‘Slyme was talking last week about leaving the place ‘e’s lodging at, but I don’t know whether ‘e’s got another place to go to. You might ask him. I don’t know of anyone else.’

      ‘I’ll speak to ‘im,’ replied Easton. ‘What’s the time? it must be nearly on it.’

      ‘So it is: just on eight,’ exclaimed Crass, and drawing his whistle he blew a shrill blast upon it to apprise the others of the fact.

      ‘Has anyone seen old Jack Linden since ‘e got the push?’ inquired Harlow during breakfast.

      ‘I seen ‘im Saterdy,’ said Slyme.

      ‘Is ‘e doin’ anything?’

      ‘I don’t know: I didn’t ‘ave time to speak to ‘im.’

      ‘No, ‘e ain’t got nothing,’ remarked Philpot. ‘I seen ‘im Saterdy night, an’ ’e told me ‘e’s been walkin’ about ever since.’

      Philpot did not add that he had ‘lent’ Linden a shilling, which he never expected to see again.

      “E won’t be able to get a job again in a ‘urry,’ remarked Easton. “E’s too old.’

      ‘You know, after all, you can’t blame Misery for sackin’ ’im,’ said Crass after a pause. “E was too slow for a funeral.’

      ‘I wonder how much you’ll be able to do when you’re as old as he is?’ said Owen.

      ‘P’raps I won’t want to do nothing,’ replied Crass with a feeble laugh. ‘I’m goin’ to live on me means.’

      ‘I should say the best thing old Jack could do would be to go in the union,’ said Harlow.

      ‘Yes: I reckon that’s what’ll be the end of it,’ said Easton in a matter-of-fact tone.

      ‘It’s a grand finish, isn’t it?’ observed Owen. ‘After working hard all one’s life to be treated like a criminal at the end.’

      ‘I don’t know what you call bein’ treated like criminals.’ exclaimed Crass. ‘I reckon they ‘as a bloody fine time of it, an’ we’ve got to find the money.’

      ‘Oh, for God’s sake don’t start no more arguments,’ cried Harlow, addressing Owen. ‘We ‘ad enough of that last week. You can’t expect a boss to employ a man when ‘e’s too old to work.’

      ‘Of course not,’ said Crass.

      Philpot said – nothing.

      ‘I don’t see no sense in always grumblin’,’ Crass proceeded. ‘These things can’t be altered. You can’t expect there can be plenty of work for everyone with all this ‘ere labour-savin’ machinery what’s been invented.’

      ‘Of course,’ said Harlow, ‘the people what used to be employed on the work what’s now done by machinery, has to find something else to do. Some of ‘em goes to our trade, for instance: the result is there’s too many at it, and there ain’t enough work to keep ‘em all goin’.’

      ‘Yes,’ cried Crass, eagerly. ‘That’s just what I say. Machinery is the real cause of all the poverty. That’s what I said the other day.’

      ‘Machinery is undoubtedly the cause of unemployment,’ replied Owen, ‘but it’s not the cause of poverty: that’s another matter altogether.’

      The others laughed derisively.

      ‘Well, it seems to me to amount to the same thing,’ said Harlow, and nearly everyone agreed.

      ‘It doesn’t seem to me to amount to the same thing,’ Owen replied. ‘In my opinion, we are all in a state of poverty even when we have employment – the condition we are reduced to when we’re out of work is more properly described as destitution.’

      ‘Poverty,’ continued Owen after a short silence, ‘consists in a shortage of the necessaries of life. When those things are so scarce or so dear that people are unable to obtain sufficient of them to satisfy all their needs, those people are in a condition of poverty. If you think that the machinery, which makes it possible to produce all the necessaries of life in abundance, is the cause of the shortage, it seems to me that there must be something the matter with your minds.’

      ‘Oh, of course we’re all bloody fools except you,’ snarled Crass. ‘When they were servin’ out the sense, they give you such a ‘ell of a lot, there wasn’t none left for nobody else.’

      ‘If there wasn’t something wrong with your minds,’ continued Owen, ‘you would be able to see that we might have “Plenty of Work” and yet be in a state of destitution. The miserable wretches who toil sixteen or eighteen hours a day – father, mother and even the little children – making match-boxes, or shirts or blouses, have “plenty of work”, but I for one don’t envy them. Perhaps you think that if there was no machinery and we all had to work thirteen or fourteen hours a day in order to obtain a bare living, we should not be in a condition of poverty? Talk about there being something the matter with your minds! If there were not, you wouldn’t talk one day about Tariff Reform as a remedy for unemployment and then the next day admit that Machinery is the cause of it! Tariff Reform won’t do away with the machinery, will it?’

      ‘Tariff Reform is the remedy for bad trade,’ returned Crass.

      ‘In that case Tariff Reform is the remedy for a disease that does not exist. If you would only take the trouble to investigate for yourself you would find out that trade was never so good as it is at present: the output – the quantity of commodities of every kind – produced in and exported from this country is greater than it has ever been before. The fortunes amassed in business are larger than ever before: but at the same time – owing, as you have just admitted – to the continued introduction and extended use of wages-saving machinery, the number of human beings employed is steadily decreasing. I have here,’ continued Owen, taking out his pocket-book, ‘some figures which I copied from the Daily Mail Year Book for 1907, page 33:

      ’“It is a very noticeable fact that although the number of factories and their value have vastly increased in the United Kingdom, there is an absolute decrease in the number of men and women employed in those factories between 1895 and 1901. This is doubtless due to the displacement of hand labour by machinery!”

      ‘Will Tariff Reform deal with that? Are the good, kind capitalists going to abandon the use of wages-saving machinery if we tax all foreign-made goods? Does what you call “Free Trade” help us here? Or do you think that abolishing the House of Lords, or disestablishing the Church, will enable the workers who are displaced to obtain employment? Since it is true – as you admit – that machinery is the principal cause of unemployment, what are you going to do about it? What’s your remedy?’

      No one answered, because none of them knew of any remedy: and Crass began to feel sorry that he had re-introduced the subject at all.

      ‘In the near future,’ continued Owen, ‘it is probable that horses will be almost entirely superseded by motor cars and electric trams. As the services of horses will be no longer required, all but a few of those animals will be caused to die out: they will no longer be bred to the same extent as formerly. We can’t blame the horses for allowing themselves to be exterminated. They have not sufficient intelligence to understand what’s being done. Therefore they will submit tamely to the extinction


Скачать книгу