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to first causes： perhaps the lieutenant's breakfast had not agreed with
him； or he had been up late the night before； or his debts were pressing； or
the commander had spoken brusquely to him。 The point is； that on this
particular day the lieutenant was irritable。 The sailor； with others； was
〃setting up〃 the fore rigging。
Now； mark you； the sailor had been over forty years in the navy； had
three good…conduct stripes； and possessed the Victoria Cross for
distinguished service in battle； so he could not have been such an
altogether bad sort of a sailorman。 The lieutenant was irritable； the
lieutenant called him a namewell； not a nice sort of name。 It referred to
his mother。 When I was a boy it was our boys' code to fight like little
demons should such an insult be given our mothers； and many men have
died in my part of the world for calling other men this name。
However； the lieutenant called the sailor this name。 At that moment
it chanced the sailor had an iron lever or bar in his hands。 He promptly
struck the lieutenant over the head with it； knocking him out of the rigging
and overboard。
And then； in the man's own words： 〃I saw what I had done。 I knew
the Regulations； and I said to myself； 'It's all up with you； Jack； my boy； so
here goes。' An' I jumped over after him； my mind made up to drown us
both。 An' I'd ha' done it； too； only the pinnace from the flagship was just
comin' alongside。 Up we came to the top； me a hold of him an' punchin'
him。 This was what settled for me。 If I hadn't ben strikin' him； I could
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have claimed that； seein' what I had done； I jumped over to save him。〃
Then came the court…martial； or whatever name a sea trial goes by。 He
recited his sentence； word for word； as though memorised and gone over
in bitterness many times。 And here it is； for the sake of discipline and
respect to officers not always gentlemen； the punishment of a man who
was guilty of manhood。 To be reduced to the rank of ordinary seaman； to
be debarred all prize…money due him； to forfeit all rights to pension； to
resign the Victoria Cross； to be discharged from the navy with a good
character （this being his first offence）； to receive fifty lashes； and to serve
two years in prison。
〃I wish I had drowned that day； I wish to God I had；〃 he concluded； as
the line moved up and we passed around the corner。
At last the door came in sight； through which the paupers were being
admitted in bunches。 And here I learned a surprising thing： THIS
BEING WEDNESDAY； NONE OF US WOULD BE RELEASED TILL
FRIDAY MORNING。 Furthermore； and oh； you tobacco users； take heed：
WE WOULD NOT BE PERMITTED TO TAKE IN ANY TOBACCO。
This we would have to surrender as we entered。 Sometimes； I was told；
it was returned on leaving and sometimes it was destroyed。
The old man…of…war's man gave me a lesson。 Opening his pouch； he
emptied the tobacco （a pitiful quantity） into a piece of paper。 This； snugly
and flatly wrapped； went down his sock inside his shoe。 Down went my
piece of tobacco inside my sock； for forty hours without tobacco is a
hardship all tobacco users will understand。
Again and again the line moved up； and we were slowly but surely
approaching the wicket。 At the moment we happened to be standing on
an iron grating； and a man appearing underneath； the old sailor called
down to him； …
〃How many more do they want？〃
〃Twenty…four；〃 came the answer。
We looked ahead anxiously and counted。 Thirty…four were ahead of
us。 Disappointment and consternation dawned upon the faces about me。
It is not a nice thing； hungry and penniless； to face a sleepless night in the
streets。 But we hoped against hope； till； when ten stood outside the
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wicket； the porter turned us away。
〃Full up；〃 was what he said； as he banged the door。
Like a flash； for all his eighty…seven years； the old sailor was speeding
away on the desperate chance of finding shelter elsewhere。 I stood and
debated with two other men； wise in the knowledge of casual wards； as to
where we should go。 They decided on the Poplar Workhouse； three miles
away； and we started off。
As we rounded the corner； one of them said； 〃I could a' got in 'ere to…
day。 I come by at one o'clock； an' the line was beginnin' to form then
pets； that's what they are。 They let 'm in； the same ones； night upon
night。〃
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CHAPTER VIIITHE CARTER
AND THE CARPENTER
The Carter； with his clean…cut face； chin beard； and shaved upper lip； I
should have taken in the United States for anything from a master
workman to a well…to…do farmer。 The Carpenterwell； I should have
taken him for a carpenter。 He looked it； lean and wiry； with shrewd；
observant eyes； and hands that had grown twisted to the handles of tools
through forty…seven years' work at the trade。 The chief difficulty with
these men was that they were old； and that their children； instead of
growing up to take care of them； had died。 Their years had told on them；
and they had been forced out of the whirl of industry by the younger and
stronger competitors who had taken their places。
These two men； turned away from the casual ward of Whitechapel
Workhouse； were bound with me for Poplar Workhouse。 Not much of a
show； they thought； but to chance it was all that remained to us。 It was
Poplar； or the streets and night。 Both men were anxious for a bed； for
they were 〃about gone；〃 as they phrased it。 The Carter； fifty…eight years
of age； had spent the last three nights without shelter or sleep； while the
Carpenter； sixty…five years of age； had been out five nights。
But； O dear； soft people； full of meat and blood； with white beds and
airy rooms waiting you each night； how can I make you know what it is to
suffer as you would suffer if you spent a weary night on London's streets！
Believe me； you would think a thousand centuries had come and gone
before the east paled into dawn； you would shiver till you were ready to
cry aloud with the pain of each aching muscle； and you would marvel that
you could endure so much and live。 Should you rest upon a bench； and
your tired eyes close； depend upon it the policeman would rouse you and
gruffly order you to 〃move on。〃 You may rest upon the bench； and benches
are few and far between； but if rest means sleep； on you must go； dragging
your tired body through the endless streets。 Should you； in desperate
slyness； seek some forlorn alley or dark passageway and lie down； the
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omnipresent policeman will rout you out just the same。 It is his business
to rout you out。 It is a law of the powers that be that you shall be routed
out。
But when the dawn came； the nightmare over； you would hale you
home to refresh yourself； and until you died you would tell the story of
your adventure to groups of admiring friends。 It would grow into a
mighty story。 Your little eight…hour night would become an Odyssey and
you a Homer。
Not so with these homeless ones who walked to Poplar Workhouse
with me。 And there are thirty…five thousand of them； men and women； in
London Town this night。 Please don't remember it as you go to bed； if
you are as soft as you ought to be you may not rest so well as usual。 But
for old men of sixty； seventy； and eighty； ill…fed； with neither meat