wohnzimmer dunkle möbel

-chapter cii athelny told philip that he could easilyget him something to do in the large firm of linendrapers in which himself worked. several of the assistants had gone to thewar, and lynn and sedley with patriotic zeal had promised to keep their places openfor them. they put the work of the heroes on thosewho remained, and since they did not increase the wages of these were able atonce to exhibit public spirit and effect an economy; but the war continued and trade was less depressed; the holidays werecoming, when numbers of the staff went away

for a fortnight at a time: they were boundto engage more assistants. philip's experience had made him doubtfulwhether even then they would engage him; but athelny, representing himself as aperson of consequence in the firm, insisted that the manager could refuse him nothing. philip, with his training in paris, wouldbe very useful; it was only a matter of waiting a little and he was bound to get awell-paid job to design costumes and draw posters. philip made a poster for the summer saleand athelny took it away. two days later he brought it back, sayingthat the manager admired it very much and

regretted with all his heart that there wasno vacancy just then in that department. philip asked whether there was nothing elsehe could do. "i'm afraid not.""are you quite sure?" "well, the fact is they're advertising fora shop-walker tomorrow," said athelny, looking at him doubtfully through hisglasses. "d'you think i stand any chance of gettingit?" athelny was a little confused; he had ledphilip to expect something much more splendid; on the other hand he was too poorto go on providing him indefinitely with board and lodging.

"you might take it while you wait forsomething better. you always stand a better chance if you'reengaged by the firm already." "i'm not proud, you know," smiled philip. "if you decide on that you must be there ata quarter to nine tomorrow morning." notwithstanding the war there was evidentlymuch difficulty in finding work, for when philip went to the shop many men werewaiting already. he recognised some whom he had seen in hisown searching, and there was one whom he had noticed lying about the park in theafternoon. to philip now that suggested that he was ashomeless as himself and passed the night

out of doors. the men were of all sorts, old and young,tall and short; but every one had tried to make himself smart for the interview withthe manager: they had carefully brushed hair and scrupulously clean hands. they waited in a passage which philiplearnt afterwards led up to the dining-hall and the work rooms; it was broken every fewyards by five or six steps. though there was electric light in the shophere was only gas, with wire cages over it for protection, and it flared noisily. philip arrived punctually, but it wasnearly ten o'clock when he was admitted

into the office. it was three-cornered, like a cut of cheeselying on its side: on the walls were pictures of women in corsets, and twoposter-proofs, one of a man in pyjamas, green and white in large stripes, and the other of a ship in full sail ploughing anazure sea: on the sail was printed in large letters 'great white sale.' the widest side of the office was the backof one of the shop-windows, which was being dressed at the time, and an assistant wentto and fro during the interview. the manager was reading a letter.

he was a florid man, with sandy hair and alarge sandy moustache; from the middle of his watch-chain hung a bunch of footballmedals. he sat in his shirt sleeves at a large deskwith a telephone by his side; before him were the day's advertisements, athelny'swork, and cuttings from newspapers pasted on a card. he gave philip a glance but did not speakto him; he dictated a letter to the typist, a girl who sat at a small table in onecorner; then he asked philip his name, age, and what experience he had had. he spoke with a cockney twang in a high,metallic voice which he seemed not able

always to control; philip noticed that hisupper teeth were large and protruding; they gave you the impression that they were loose and would come out if you gave them asharp tug. "i think mr. athelny has spoken to youabout me," said philip. "oh, you are the young feller who did thatposter?" "yes, sir.""no good to us, you know, not a bit of good." he looked philip up and down.he seemed to notice that philip was in some way different from the men who had precededhim.

"you'd 'ave to get a frock coat, you know. i suppose you 'aven't got one.you seem a respectable young feller. i suppose you found art didn't pay."philip could not tell whether he meant to engage him or not. he threw remarks at him in a hostile way."where's your home?" "my father and mother died when i was achild." "i like to give young fellers a chance. many's the one i've given their chance toand they're managers of departments now. and they're grateful to me, i'll say thatfor them.

they know what i done for them. start at the bottom of the ladder, that'sthe only way to learn the business, and then if you stick to it there's no knowingwhat it can lead to. if you suit, one of these days you may findyourself in a position like what mine is. bear that in mind, young feller.""i'm very anxious to do my best, sir," said philip. he knew that he must put in the sirwhenever he could, but it sounded odd to him, and he was afraid of overdoing it.the manager liked talking. it gave him a happy consciousness of hisown importance, and he did not give philip

his decision till he had used a great manywords. "well, i daresay you'll do," he said atlast, in a pompous way. "anyhow i don't mind giving you a trial.""thank you very much, sir." "you can start at once. i'll give you six shillings a week and yourkeep. everything found, you know; the sixshillings is only pocket money, to do what you like with, paid monthly. start on monday.i suppose you've got no cause of complaint with that.""no, sir."

"harrington street, d'you know where thatis, shaftesbury avenue. that's where you sleep.number ten, it is. you can sleep there on sunday night, if youlike; that's just as you please, or you can send your box there on monday."the manager nodded: "good-morning." chapter ciii mrs. athelny lent philip money to pay hislandlady enough of her bill to let him take his things away. for five shillings and the pawn-ticket on asuit he was able to get from a pawnbroker a frock coat which fitted him fairly well.he redeemed the rest of his clothes.

he sent his box to harrington street bycarter patterson and on monday morning went with athelny to the shop.athelny introduced him to the buyer of the costumes and left him. the buyer was a pleasant, fussy little manof thirty, named sampson; he shook hands with philip, and, in order to show his ownaccomplishment of which he was very proud, asked him if he spoke french. he was surprised when philip told him hedid. "any other language?""i speak german." "oh! i go over to paris myselfoccasionally.

parlez-vous francais?ever been to maxim's?" philip was stationed at the top of thestairs in the 'costumes.' his work consisted in directing people tothe various departments. there seemed a great many of them as mr.sampson tripped them off his tongue. suddenly he noticed that philip limped."what's the matter with your leg?" he asked. "i've got a club-foot," said philip."but it doesn't prevent my walking or anything like that." the buyer looked at it for a momentdoubtfully, and philip surmised that he was

wondering why the manager had engaged him.philip knew that he had not noticed there was anything the matter with him. "i don't expect you to get them all correctthe first day. if you're in any doubt all you've got to dois to ask one of the young ladies." mr. sampson turned away; and philip, tryingto remember where this or the other department was, watched anxiously for thecustomer in search of information. at one o'clock he went up to dinner. the dining-room, on the top floor of thevast building, was large, long, and well lit; but all the windows were shut to keepout the dust, and there was a horrid smell

of cooking. there were long tables covered with cloths,with big glass bottles of water at intervals, and down the centre salt cellarsand bottles of vinegar. the assistants crowded in noisily, and satdown on forms still warm from those who had dined at twelve-thirty."no pickles," remarked the man next to he was a tall thin young man, with a hookednose and a pasty face; he had a long head, unevenly shaped as though the skull hadbeen pushed in here and there oddly, and on his forehead and neck were large acne spotsred and inflamed. his name was harris.

philip discovered that on some days therewere large soup-plates down the table full of mixed pickles.they were very popular. there were no knives and forks, but in aminute a large fat boy in a white coat came in with a couple of handfuls of them andthrew them loudly on the middle of the table. each man took what he wanted; they werewarm and greasy from recent washing in dirty water. plates of meat swimming in gravy werehanded round by boys in white jackets, and as they flung each plate down with thequick gesture of a prestidigitator the

gravy slopped over on to the table-cloth. then they brought large dishes of cabbagesand potatoes; the sight of them turned philip's stomach; he noticed that everyonepoured quantities of vinegar over them. the noise was awful. they talked and laughed and shouted, andthere was the clatter of knives and forks, and strange sounds of eating.philip was glad to get back into the department. he was beginning to remember where each onewas, and had less often to ask one of the assistants, when somebody wanted to knowthe way.

"first to the right. second on the left, madam."one or two of the girls spoke to him, just a word when things were slack, and he feltthey were taking his measure. at five he was sent up again to the dining-room for tea. he was glad to sit down. there were large slices of bread heavilyspread with butter; and many had pots of jam, which were kept in the 'store' and hadtheir names written on. philip was exhausted when work stopped athalf past six. harris, the man he had sat next to atdinner, offered to take him over to

harrington street to show him where he wasto sleep. he told philip there was a spare bed in hisroom, and, as the other rooms were full, he expected philip would be put there. the house in harrington street had been abootmaker's; and the shop was used as a bed-room; but it was very dark, since thewindow had been boarded three parts up, and as this did not open the only ventilationcame from a small skylight at the far end. there was a musty smell, and philip wasthankful that he would not have to sleep there. harris took him up to the sitting-room,which was on the first floor; it had an old

piano in it with a keyboard that lookedlike a row of decayed teeth; and on the table in a cigar-box without a lid was a set of dominoes; old numbers of the strandmagazine and of the graphic were lying about.the other rooms were used as bed-rooms. that in which philip was to sleep was atthe top of the house. there were six beds in it, and a trunk or abox stood by the side of each. the only furniture was a chest of drawers:it had four large drawers and two small ones, and philip as the new-comer had oneof these; there were keys to them, but as they were all alike they were not of much

use, and harris advised him to keep hisvaluables in his trunk. there was a looking-glass on the chimney-piece. harris showed philip the lavatory, whichwas a fairly large room with eight basins in a row, and here all the inmates didtheir washing. it led into another room in which were twobaths, discoloured, the woodwork stained with soap; and in them were dark rings atvarious intervals which indicated the water marks of different baths. when harris and philip went back to theirbed-room they found a tall man changing his clothes and a boy of sixteen whistling asloud as he could while he brushed his hair.

in a minute or two without saying a word toanybody the tall man went out. harris winked at the boy, and the boy,whistling still, winked back. harris told philip that the man was calledprior; he had been in the army and now served in the silks; he kept pretty much tohimself, and he went off every night, just like that, without so much as a good-evening, to see his girl. harris went out too, and only the boyremained to watch philip curiously while he unpacked his things. his name was bell and he was serving histime for nothing in the haberdashery. he was much interested in philip's eveningclothes.

he told him about the other men in the roomand asked him every sort of question about himself. he was a cheerful youth, and in theintervals of conversation sang in a half- broken voice snatches of music-hall songs. when philip had finished he went out towalk about the streets and look at the crowd; occasionally he stopped outside thedoors of restaurants and watched the people going in; he felt hungry, so he bought a bath bun and ate it while he strolledalong. he had been given a latch-key by theprefect, the man who turned out the gas at

a quarter past eleven, but afraid of beinglocked out he returned in good time; he had learned already the system of fines: you had to pay a shilling if you came in aftereleven, and half a crown after a quarter past, and you were reported besides: if ithappened three times you were dismissed. all but the soldier were in when philiparrived and two were already in bed. philip was greeted with cries."oh, clarence! naughty boy!" he discovered that bell had dressed up thebolster in his evening clothes. the boy was delighted with his joke."you must wear them at the social evening,

clarence." "he'll catch the belle of lynn's, if he'snot careful." philip had already heard of the socialevenings, for the money stopped from the wages to pay for them was one of thegrievances of the staff. it was only two shillings a month, and itcovered medical attendance and the use of a library of worn novels; but as fourshillings a month besides was stopped for washing, philip discovered that a quarter of his six shillings a week would never bepaid to him. most of the men were eating thick slices offat bacon between a roll of bread cut in

two. these sandwiches, the assistants' usualsupper, were supplied by a small shop a few doors off at twopence each. the soldier rolled in; silently, rapidly,took off his clothes and threw himself into bed.at ten minutes past eleven the gas gave a big jump and five minutes later went out. the soldier went to sleep, but the otherscrowded round the big window in their pyjamas and night-shirts and, throwingremains of their sandwiches at the women who passed in the street below, shouted tothem facetious remarks.

the house opposite, six storeys high, was aworkshop for jewish tailors who left off work at eleven; the rooms were brightly litand there were no blinds to the windows. the sweater's daughter--the familyconsisted of father, mother, two small boys, and a girl of twenty--went round thehouse to put out the lights when work was over, and sometimes she allowed herself tobe made love to by one of the tailors. the shop assistants in philip's room got alot of amusement out of watching the manoeuvres of one man or another to staybehind, and they made small bets on which would succeed. at midnight the people were turned out ofthe harrington arms at the end of the

street, and soon after they all went tobed: bell, who slept nearest the door, made his way across the room by jumping from bed to bed, and even when he got to his ownwould not stop talking. at last everything was silent but for thesteady snoring of the soldier, and philip went to sleep. he was awaked at seven by the loud ringingof a bell, and by a quarter to eight they were all dressed and hurrying downstairs intheir stockinged feet to pick out their boots. they laced them as they ran along to theshop in oxford street for breakfast.

if they were a minute later than eight theygot none, nor, once in, were they allowed out to get themselves anything to eat. sometimes, if they knew they could not getinto the building in time, they stopped at the little shop near their quarters andbought a couple of buns; but this cost money, and most went without food tilldinner. philip ate some bread and butter, drank acup of tea, and at half past eight began his day's work again. "first to the right.second on the left, madam." soon he began to answer the questions quitemechanically.

the work was monotonous and very tiring. after a few days his feet hurt him so thathe could hardly stand: the thick soft carpets made them burn, and at night hissocks were painful to remove. it was a common complaint, and his fellow'floormen' told him that socks and boots just rotted away from the continualsweating. all the men in his room suffered in thesame fashion, and they relieved the pain by sleeping with their feet outside the bed-clothes. at first philip could not walk at all andwas obliged to spend a good many of his evenings in the sitting-room at harringtonstreet with his feet in a pail of cold

water. his companion on these occasions was bell,the lad in the haberdashery, who stayed in often to arrange the stamps he collected.as he fastened them with little pieces of stamp-paper he whistled monotonously. chapter civ the social evenings took place on alternatemondays. there was one at the beginning of philip'ssecond week at lynn's. he arranged to go with one of the women inhis department. "meet 'em 'alf-way," she said, "same as ido."

this was mrs. hodges, a little woman offive-and-forty, with badly dyed hair; she had a yellow face with a network of smallred veins all over it, and yellow whites to her pale blue eyes. she took a fancy to philip and called himby his christian name before he had been in the shop a week."we've both known what it is to come down," she said. she told philip that her real name was nothodges, but she always referred to "me 'usband misterodges;" he was a barristerand he treated her simply shocking, so she left him as she preferred to be independent

like; but she had known what it was todrive in her own carriage, dear--she called everyone dear--and they always had latedinner at home. she used to pick her teeth with the pin ofan enormous silver brooch. it was in the form of a whip and a hunting-crop crossed, with two spurs in the middle. philip was ill at ease in his newsurroundings, and the girls in the shop called him 'sidey.' one addressed him as phil, and he did notanswer because he had not the least idea that she was speaking to him; so she tossedher head, saying he was a 'stuck-up thing,' and next time with ironical emphasis calledhim mister carey.

she was a miss jewell, and she was going tomarry a doctor. the other girls had never seen him, butthey said he must be a gentleman as he gave her such lovely presents."never you mind what they say, dear," said mrs. hodges. "i've 'ad to go through it same as you'ave. they don't know any better, poor things. you take my word for it, they'll like youall right if you 'old your own same as i 'ave."the social evening was held in the restaurant in the basement.

the tables were put on one side so thatthere might be room for dancing, and smaller ones were set out for progressivewhist. "the 'eads 'ave to get there early," saidmrs. hodges. she introduced him to miss bennett, who wasthe belle of lynn's. she was the buyer in the 'petticoats,' andwhen philip entered was engaged in conversation with the buyer in the'gentlemen's hosiery;' miss bennett was a woman of massive proportions, with a very large red face heavily powdered and a bustof imposing dimensions; her flaxen hair was arranged with elaboration.

she was overdressed, but not badly dressed,in black with a high collar, and she wore black glace gloves, in which she playedcards; she had several heavy gold chains round her neck, bangles on her wrists, and circular photograph pendants, one being ofqueen alexandra; she carried a black satin bag and chewed sen-sens."please to meet you, mr. carey," she said. "this is your first visit to our socialevenings, ain't it? i expect you feel a bit shy, but there's nocause to, i promise you that." she did her best to make people feel athome. she slapped them on the shoulders andlaughed a great deal.

"ain't i a pickle?" she cried, turning tophilip. "what must you think of me?but i can't 'elp meself." those who were going to take part in thesocial evening came in, the younger members of the staff mostly, boys who had not girlsof their own, and girls who had not yet found anyone to walk with. several of the young gentlemen wore loungesuits with white evening ties and red silk handkerchiefs; they were going to perform,and they had a busy, abstracted air; some were self-confident, but others were nervous, and they watched their public withan anxious eye.

presently a girl with a great deal of hairsat at the piano and ran her hands noisily across the keyboard. when the audience had settled itself shelooked round and gave the name of her piece."a drive in russia." there was a round of clapping during whichshe deftly fixed bells to her wrists. she smiled a little and immediately burstinto energetic melody. there was a great deal more clapping whenshe finished, and when this was over, as an encore, she gave a piece which imitated thesea; there were little trills to represent the lapping waves and thundering chords,

with the loud pedal down, to suggest astorm. after this a gentleman sang a song calledbid me good-bye, and as an encore obliged with sing me to sleep. the audience measured their enthusiasm witha nice discrimination. everyone was applauded till he gave anencore, and so that there might be no jealousy no one was applauded more thananyone else. miss bennett sailed up to philip. "i'm sure you play or sing, mr. carey," shesaid archly. "i can see it in your face.""i'm afraid i don't."

"don't you even recite?" "i have no parlour tricks."the buyer in the 'gentleman's hosiery' was a well-known reciter, and he was calledupon loudly to perform by all the assistants in his department. needing no pressing, he gave a long poem oftragic character, in which he rolled his eyes, put his hand on his chest, and actedas though he were in great agony. the point, that he had eaten cucumber forsupper, was divulged in the last line and was greeted with laughter, a little forcedbecause everyone knew the poem well, but loud and long.

miss bennett did not sing, play, or recite."oh no, she 'as a little game of her own," said mrs. hodges."now, don't you begin chaffing me. the fact is i know quite a lot aboutpalmistry and second sight." "oh, do tell my 'and, miss bennett," criedthe girls in her department, eager to please her. "i don't like telling 'ands, i don'treally. i've told people such terrible things andthey've all come true, it makes one superstitious like." "oh, miss bennett, just for once."

a little crowd collected round her, and,amid screams of embarrassment, giggles, blushings, and cries of dismay oradmiration, she talked mysteriously of fair and dark men, of money in a letter, and of journeys, till the sweat stood in heavybeads on her painted face. "look at me," she said."i'm all of a perspiration." supper was at nine. there were cakes, buns, sandwiches, tea andcoffee, all free; but if you wanted mineral water you had to pay for it. gallantry often led young men to offer theladies ginger beer, but common decency made

them refuse. miss bennett was very fond of ginger beer,and she drank two and sometimes three bottles during the evening; but sheinsisted on paying for them herself. the men liked her for that. "she's a rum old bird," they said, "butmind you, she's not a bad sort, she's not like what some are."after supper progressive whist was played. this was very noisy, and there was a greatdeal of laughing and shouting, as people moved from table to table.miss bennett grew hotter and hotter. "look at me," she said.

"i'm all of a perspiration."in due course one of the more dashing of the young men remarked that if they wantedto dance they'd better begin. the girl who had played the accompanimentssat at the piano and placed a decided foot on the loud pedal. she played a dreamy waltz, marking the timewith the bass, while with the right hand she 'tiddled' in alternate octaves.by way of a change she crossed her hands and played the air in the bass. "she does play well, doesn't she?"mrs. hodges remarked to philip. "and what's more she's never 'ad a lessonin 'er life; it's all ear."

miss bennett liked dancing and poetrybetter than anything in the world. she danced well, but very, very slowly, andan expression came into her eyes as though her thoughts were far, far away. she talked breathlessly of the floor andthe heat and the supper. she said that the portman rooms had thebest floor in london and she always liked the dances there; they were very select,and she couldn't bear dancing with all sorts of men you didn't know anything about; why, you might be exposing yourselfto you didn't know what all. nearly all the people danced very well, andthey enjoyed themselves.

sweat poured down their faces, and the veryhigh collars of the young men grew limp. philip looked on, and a greater depressionseized him than he remembered to have felt for a long time. he felt intolerably alone.he did not go, because he was afraid to seem supercilious, and he talked with thegirls and laughed, but in his heart was unhappiness. miss bennett asked him if he had a girl."no," he smiled. "oh, well, there's plenty to choose fromhere. and they're very nice respectable girls,some of them.

i expect you'll have a girl before you'vebeen here long." she looked at him very archly. "meet 'em 'alf-way," said mrs. hodges."that's what i tell him." it was nearly eleven o'clock, and the partybroke up. philip could not get to sleep. like the others he kept his aching feetoutside the bed-clothes. he tried with all his might not to think ofthe life he was leading. the soldier was snoring quietly.

Subscribe to receive free email updates: