Sawkins, `but I've paid my share an' I've got a right to express an
opinion. It's my belief that 'arf the money we gives 'him is spent on
penny 'orribles: 'e's always got one in 'is hand, an' to make wot tea
'e does buy last, 'e collects all the slops wot's left and biles it up
day after day.'

`No, I don't!' said Bert, who was on the verge of tears. `It's not me
wot buys the things at all. I gives the money I gets to Crass, and 'e
buys them 'imself, so there!'

At this revelation, some of the men furtively exchanged significant
glances, and Crass, the foreman, became very red.

`You'd better keep your bloody thruppence and make your own tea after
this week,' he said, addressing Sawkins, `and then p'raps we'll 'ave a
little peace at meal-times.'

`An' you needn't ask me to cook no bloaters or bacon for you no more,'
added Bert, tearfully, `cos I won't do it.'

Sawkins was not popular with any of the others. When, about twelve
months previously, he first came to work for Rushton & Co., he was a
simple labourer, but since then he had `picked up' a slight knowledge
of the trade, and having armed himself with a putty-knife and put on a
white jacket, regarded himself as a fully qualified painter. The
others did not perhaps object to him trying to better his condition,
but his wages - fivepence an hour - were twopence an hour less than
the standard rate, and the result was that in slack times often a
better workman was `stood off' when Sawkins was kept on. Moreover, he
was generally regarded as a sneak who carried tales to the foreman and