The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists
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第77章

`I don't want no chin from you!' said the Old Dear with a ferocious scowl.`If you want to make that row you can go somewheres else, and the sooner you goes the better.You've been 'ere long enough.'

This was true.The man had been there long enough to spend every penny he had been possessed of when he first came: he had no money left now, a fact that the observant and experienced landlord had divined some time ago.He therefore wished to get rid of the fellow before the drink affected him further and made him helplessly drunk.

The Semi-drunk listened with indignation and wrath to the landlord's insulting words.

`I shall go when the bloody 'ell I like!' he shouted.`I shan't ask you nor nobody else! Who the bloody 'ell are you? You're nobody!

See? Nobody! It's orf the likes of me that you gets your bloody livin'! I shall stop 'ere as long as I bloody well like, and if you don't like it you can go to 'ell!'

`Oh! Yer will, will yer?' said the Old Dear.`We'll soon see about that.' And, opening the door at the back of the bar, he roared out:

`Alf!'

`Yes, sir,' replied a voice, evidently from the basement.

`Just come up 'ere.'

`All right,' replied the voice, and footsteps were heard ascending some stairs.

`You'll see some fun in a minute,' gleefully remarked Crass to Easton.

The polyphone continued to play 1The Boys of the Bulldog Breed.'

Philpot crossed over to the Semi-drunk.`Look 'ere, old man,' he whispered, `take my tip and go 'ome quietly.You'll only git the worse of it, you know.'

`Not me, mate,' replied the other, shaking his head doggedly.`'Ere Iam, and 'ere I'm goin' to bloody well stop.'

`No, you ain't,' replied Philpot coaxingly.`'Look 'ere.I'll tell you wot we'll do.You 'ave just one more 'arf-pint along of me, and then we'll both go 'ome together.I'll see you safe 'ome.'

`See me safe 'ome! Wotcher mean?' indignantly demanded the other.'Do you think I'm drunk or wot?'

`No.Certainly not,' replied Philpot, hastily.`You're all right, as right as I am myself.But you know wot I mean.Let's go 'ome.You don't want to stop 'ere all night, do you?'

By this time Alf had arrived at the door of the back of the bar.He was a burly young man about twenty-two or twenty-three years of age.

`Put it outside,' growled the landlord, indicating the culprit.

The barman instantly vaulted over the counter, and, having opened wide the door leading into the street, he turned to the half-drunken man and, jerking his thumb in the direction of the door, said:

`Are yer goin'?'

`I'm goin' to 'ave 'arf a pint along of this genelman first -'

`Yes.It's all right,' said Philpot to the landlord.`Let's 'ave two 'arf-pints, and say no more about it.'

`You mind your own business,' shouted the landlord, turning savagely on him.`'E'll get no more 'ere! I don't want no drunken men in my 'ouse.Who asked you to interfere?'

`Now then!' exclaimed the barman to the cause of the trouble, `Outside!'

`Not me!' said the Semi-drunk firmly.`Not before I've 'ad my 'arf -'

But before he could conclude, the barman had clutched him by the collar, dragged him violently to the door and shot him into the middle of the road, where he fell in a heap almost under the wheels of a brewer's dray that happened to be passing.This accomplished, Alf shut the door and retired behind the counter again.

`Serve 'im bloody well right,' said Crass.

`I couldn't 'elp laughin' when I seen 'im go flyin' through the bloody door,' said Bundy.

`You oughter 'ave more sense than to go interferin' like that,' said Crass to Philpot.`It was nothing to do with you.'

Philpot made no reply.He was standing with his back to the others, peeping out into the street over the top of the window casing.Then he opened the door and went out into the street.Crass and the others - through the window - watched him assist the Semi-drunk to his feet and rub some of the dirt off his clothes, and presently after some argument they saw the two go away together arm in arm.

Crass and the others laughed, and returned to their half-finished drinks.

`Why, old Joe ain't drunk 'ardly 'arf of 'is!' cried Easton, seeing Philpot's porter on the counter.'Fancy going away like that!'

`More fool 'im,' growled Crass.`There was no need for it: the man's all right.'

The Besotted Wretch gulped his beer down as quickly as he could, with his eyes fixed greedily on Philpot's glass.He had just finished his own and was about to suggest that it was a pity to waste the porter when Philpot unexpectedly reappeared.

`Hullo! What 'ave you done with 'im?' inquired Crass.

`I think 'e'll be all right,' replied Philpot.`He wouldn't let me go no further with 'im: said if I didn't go away, 'e'd go for me! But Ibelieve 'e'll be all right.I think the fall sobered 'im a bit.'

`Oh, 'e's all right,' said Crass offhandedly.`There's nothing the matter with 'im.'

Philpot now drank his porter, and bidding `good night' to the Old Dear, the landlady and the Besotted Wretch, they all set out for home.