There were other signs of prosperity: photographs of the relations of
'Erb and his wife in Sunday clothes; on the chimney-piece an elaborate
arrangement of shells stuck on a miniature rock; and on each side mugs, `A
present from Southend' in Gothic letters, with pictures of a pier and a
parade on them. 'Erb was something of a character; he was a non-union man
and expressed himself with indignation at the efforts of the union to
force him to join. The union wasn't no good to him, he never found no
difficulty in getting work, and there was good wages for anyone as 'ad a
head on his shoulders and wasn't above puttin' 'is 'and to anything as
come 'is way. Polly was timorous. If she was 'im she'd join the union, the
last time there was a strike she was expectin' 'im to be brought back in
an ambulance every time he went out. She turned to Philip.
"He's that obstinate, there's no doing anything with 'im."
"Well, what I say is, it's a free country, and I won't be dictated to."
"It's no good saying it's a free country," said Polly, "that won't prevent
'em bashin' your 'ead in if they get the chanst."
When they had finished Philip passed his pouch over to 'Erb and they lit
their pipes; then he got up, for a `call' might be waiting for him at his
rooms, and shook hands. He saw that it had given them pleasure that he
shared their meal, and they saw that he had thoroughly enjoyed it.
Pages:
930
931
932
933
934
935
936
937
938
939
940
941
942
943
944
945
946
947
948
949
950
951
952
953
954