Fenn George Manville - Original Penny Readings: A Series of Short Sketches

Fenn George Manville Original Penny Readings: A Series of Short Sketches

Chapter One. Paying the Footing

But dont mistake me in what I mean; dont think I turn up my nose at china: its right enough in its way, and at times vastly superior to your common crockery. I honour and feel proud of the china pots which, having no occasion to work, throw aside idleness, and with the advantages of power and position, work, and work hard work with their heads, and do great things men who live not to eat, but eat to live and benefit their fellows in some way. Dont mistake my meaning, for I dont want to make a man look with contempt on those above him; but learn to see how that, whatever his position in life, he can do some good, and that he is of service; and above all things, learn to see that your yellow basin your working man is of quite as much value in this world of ours as the china ornaments of society, whose aim and end is often to there Im almost ashamed to say it to kill time.

Thou saidst they was good crows, Tommy; and they was nobbut booblins, says the old Lincolnshire man who wanted a rook pie, and bought his rooks without seeing them, when they proved poor half-fledged birds; and what lots of us believes what others say, takes things for granted; and after all only gets booblins for our dinner. If men would only judge for themselves look before they leap turn the china ornament up and look at the cracks and rivets, or, even if it is sound, consider how frail, fragile, and useless it is they would be a little more satisfied with their own lot in life, and not be so given to grumbling. Things are precious hard sometimes, but thats no reason why we should make them harder by our own folly.

We see and know enough of the misery of our great towns, and I mean to say that we have ourselves to thank for a good no, I mean a bad half of it. Now, just take away I wish we could just take away out of London all the dirt, all the drunkenness, and all the other vice, and how do you think it would look then, eh? You cant tell me; but I can tell you something: it would ruin half the doctors, half the undertakers, and three parts of the brewers, and gin-spinners, and publicans; and that being rather a strong dose for any man to digest at one sitting, Ill let you think it over without putting any more on that subject. I wont go on preaching about the everlasting pipe that men make a common tunnel or chimney to carry off all the sense in their heads through the abuse of tobacco; nor yet say anything about drowning the good feelings of his heart by the abuse of beer; for I want to get to the way in which yellow basins get jarring together, as if they were never happy till the fresh one that comes amongst them is cracked, and on the way to join the rest of the potsherds over whose dust we walk during our journey of life.

I want to talk about paying your footing; for there was a paragraph in a paper only a few days ago that brought up a good many old thoughts on old subjects. Now, this paragraph gave an account of a poor chap at Sheffield, I think being ill-used by his fellow-workmen for not paying his footing.

Now, Ill just ask any decent, honest, hard-working man, whether he can imagine anything that comes nearer to dead robbery than making a poor fellow, just took on at any trade, pull out perhaps his last coin to find beer for a pack of thoughtless fellows who dont want it, and who would be better without it. Ive opened my mouth on this subject before, but it will bear touching again; for I think it a disgrace to the British workman to keep up such dirty, mean old practices. Im not preaching total abstinence or anything of the kind; let every man take his own road. I for one love a good glass of ale at proper time and place; but sooner than drink at the expense of a poor, hard-up fellow-worker, Id drink water to the death.

Ive seen it all again and again in busy London, and in the sweet country, where you can draw a hearty breath laden with vigour between every stroke of hammer, or trowel, or brush and I say that the sooner the custom is kicked out of the workshop the better. If it must be kept up, and men wont turn it out, why, then, let them put the boot on the other foot, and treat the new comer.

Nice young fellow comes into our shop once, fresh out of the country. Times had been very flat, and he looked terribly seedy. Hed come out of one of your little offices where a mans printer, and bookbinder, and all; and he was one of your fellows as would take a book, paste end leaves on, and then leather away with a twelve-pound hammer at the beating stone till the impression was all gone, and it was solid as a board, take and nip it in the press, then sew the back, fit up his bands in the sewing frame, and stitch the whole book; end leaves again, and a bit o paste in your first section; then glue your back, round him, ravel out your bands, lace on your boards, and then sharpen up the plough-knife, and cut all the edges smooth as glass; sprinkle or marble, red edge or gilt and burnish what you will; and then, hows it to be, cloth? Well, then, cut out, and glue on. Half-calf? Cut up your leather, pare and trim your corners and back bit; and then, when the open cartridge paper back is dry, and the head bands firm, pop on your leather, then again your marble paper; paste down the end leaves; nip the book in the plough press, and there you are, ready for gilding the back and lettering to taste; or you may paste down your end leaves when youve done.