The Down and Out King - 14

WILLIAM

Within yon paper-window'd room,

A group in sadness and in gloom

Is sitting - and, though no-one speaks,

Look only in their eyes and cheeks!

It needs not language to express

Their tale of misery and distress;

The Village Poor-house - paupers, they -

Men- young, sinewy, and strong,

Condemn'd to see, day after day,

Their moments creep along

As Sam puts in, “Public school is a rare place for broad fun and practical joking; so is a barrack-room, or the 'tween-decks of a troopship. But these are all far surpassed, in fun and frolic, by the young men's side of the particular workhouse of which we happen to tenant.

“This superiority of the pauper in matters farcical is because the characters here are better adapted for producing comic effect than elsewhere and the sense of humour is keener and practical joking is
almost the sole amusement of indoor paupers.

“We have three or four idiots among us, each of whom displays, when roused, strongly marked peculiarities of temper; and it is a common amusement of the jokers to excite the idiotic temper as often as possible. Good opportunities present themselves four or five times a day. First, in the morning, during the half-hour intervening between rising and breakfast, when the laggards descend from their dormitories, they are sure .to find the idiots, each in his own corner, begirt by a troop of laughing tormentors, and growling, storming, and swearing, it may be, each in his own peculiar manner.

“Similar scenes are to be witnessed before each of the other meals; but, to see them in full perfection, one must tenant a dormitory wherein sleeps an idiot - or, better, two or three. Here they are played upon by masterly performers, and drawn into perpetrating all sorts of ridiculous acts, to the high satisfaction of everybody about them, and in most cases very much to their own.

“The semi-idiotic are fellows accustomed to drawing the laughter of tap-room boozers, and with it their contributions, in the shape of half-pints of small-beer and odd coppers, quite as much by submitting with docility to the practical jokes as by their own amusing qualities. They have been in the habit, indeed, of playing tomfool so long, that the part has become natural, and adheres to them at all times.

“These fellows are the delight of the workshops in the absence of the labour-masters. The moment these officials turn their backs, one or other of the semi-idiots is called upon to give a specimen of his comic powers, or to relate some laughable incident of his own experiences.

Generally the call is responded to willingly, and we have tumbling, singing, and acting - the last of a sort that would astonish Mr. Henry Irving very considerably. If the fellow refuses to gratify his mates, he is jeered at and goaded until he accedes, or flies off into a towering passion - the latter invariably affording his tormentors much more entertainment than any other performance of his.

“Perhaps the foremost of our semi-idiots is Jack Queedom a local notoriety outside the house as well as inside. He is one of the shortest specimens of manhood among us, with a curious monkey sort of phiz, and a figure and a gait tending to excite risibility at first sight. The voice is one to match - a long-drawn nasal howl which never varies its dreary tone in the least.”

I suppose I should interject in here that Sam is not using the other men's real names. For if when his book is published, they were known outside, so his alias here would be more easily uncovered. But I, of course, know exactly who he means.

“Jack is renowned for his Shakespearean recitations, which must have been taught him by a master-wag. He muddles up about a dozen choice speeches into a single rigmarole; and he gives new readings of the more remarkable passages, which render them beyond measure comical.
At the same time, he is perfectly unconscious that he is doing anything of the kind, believing most firmly that he is adhering exactly to the text, when he makes his most curious departures from
it.

“His most amusing stories are those which concern his adventures with the women, of whom Jack is a devoted admirer. There are few low-class females dwelling adjacent to the house who are not acquainted with Jack and all his weaknesses, and very few indeed who are not ready to take advantage of them.

“Somehow, when he goes out, he can always manage to raise a few shillings; and these the beauties of his acquaintance know how to melt, as fast as he obtains them. It is, however, of the past that his best anecdotes of dealing with women are told. . He has been fooled into handing
over to one and another of them, from time to time, the fees required for putting up the banns; but, without exception, the fair one has transferred the coins to the favourite tavern-keeper, in return for
the adequate number of pots of ale, to be consumed by herself and her acquaintances.

“All this Jack tells us most artlessly, but withal so comically as to keep everybody in a roar. And when the tale is told, it is made the medium of badgering him until he loses all command of himself, and, rushing off to the labour-master, he forswears all further work for that day, and demands to be locked up in the refractory ward - purely to escape from his tormentors. His request, I need hardly remark, is always granted. And there he remains until bedtime.

“Pestered and plagued, however, as he is, Jack Queedom is quite a favourite in the house. His temporary absences are loudly lamented, so long as they last; and his returns are always hailed with acclamation. The house, it is generally allowed, would be nothing without him; and it
may be added that he, in his turn, would be nothing without the house.

“Next come the monomaniacs; and chief among these is the one known as General Booth. Left to himself, the man is quiet and silent enough, reserved and retiring - very much so indeed. But when turned on,' as the phrase goes here, he bursts out into a roar, reciting a series of hymns and passages of Scripture mixed up with canting ejaculations. He utters these pious scraps in exactly the same order on all occasions. He never omits a single sentence, or introduces anything fresh. It is the same, without the smallest variation even of tone, from one end of the day to the other.

“The worst of it is, there is no stopping the fellow once he begins. He is bound to go on until the excitement subsides, and that often takes hours. At first his roar is a subject of laughter; but ten minutes or so of it is certain to disgust the most inveterate Jack-joker of the lot. But those who have provoked the infliction are bound to put up with it until the speaker is run dry.

“Of course there is no fun in the man himself; or in his rhapsody; but there is a good deal in the suddenness with which it breaks forth, in its contrast to what is going on, in its ear-splitting strength, and in the vigour with which it is persisted in, notwithstanding oaths and threats of the most astounding order.

“Joe Collier is far and away the most conspicuous of our vanity-mongers. He is a little elderly man, with boyish features but stentorian voice; and his delight is to expatiate on the 'points' of the
countless beauties of all lands who have wasted their affections upon him.

“Joe is one of our occasionals; that is, he will stick to the house for a couple of months, and then vanish from it for four, five, or six, and always as accepting legitimate occupation. He is sure,
however, to return, greatly to the satisfaction of the inmates who have already made his acquaintance.

“How he entered the house at the outset is more than I know; but, once in it, he contrived to fall in love with the cook - a woman on the wrong side of fifty, who, moreover, remains to this hour in perfect ignorance of the impression made by her on Joe's susceptible heart. He flattered himself, of course, that she had fallen in love with him; and the rogues in his confidence used to make a good thing of forging letters and messages in her name, and bearing them to Joe during their outings, when the poor fellow happened to be in employment.

“Joe's tirades are exceedingly popular. They are all of the high falutin' style, Circassian beauties, golden hair, jetty locks, laughing eyes, glowing cheeks, sylph-like figures, and the rest of it. And decked as they are with luscious stories, which do credit to Joe's imagination, if not to his taste or morals, they go down excellently. The rascals round listen with delight, especially to the luscious stories, putting sly questions now and again to draw Joe still further, and always with the desired effect.

“While the tales last - that is, so long as Joe's lungs can hold forth - all goes well. But the moment he 'dries up,' or ceases to speak, the listeners cast aside their deferential demeanour, and the badgering commences, and goes on, too, until Joe starts up in a rage and 'pitches into' the nearest of his tormentors.

“Then begins a battle, which is only make-believe on one side, and which is so conducted as to extract thunders of applause from the spectators. Joe strikes out wildly, while his antagonist shifts and dodges in ludicrous fashion, now and again pretending to be badly hurt, but still more frequently laying Joe on his back in all sorts of queer ways, though without hurting him in the least. And so the thing goes on until some one on the watch cries, 'Nix lads, buttons' - the warning that the taskmaster is at hand. Then the row ceases, everybody takes his seat and resumes his work, and the most consummate order meets the eye of the official when he enters the apartment.

“A good deal of fun is knocked out of the hobbledehoys from sixteen to nineteen, half a dozen or more of whom are always about, and who, having spent most of their time in the workhouse, are singularly ignorant of many matters of the commonest sort, and therefore to be gulled with the greatest ease respecting them.

“One of these youths, having a grievance against the parish doctor, was persuaded by a scamp to travel to the Isle of Wight, in order to state his complaint to the Queen in person, as being the proper
person to do him right in the matter; and the lad actually took his discharge and travelled down to Portsmouth, supporting himself on the way by begging and sheltering at night in casual wards, with this silly purpose and no other; nor was he disabused, until he tried to persuade the master of a steamer to carry him across the Solent.

“Much fun, too, is made by conveying false orders to simpletons in the name of various officers, and so setting them to work on tasks which no sensible man would dream of assigning them. Thus a booby has been made to mount a tolerable-sized pig on his shoulders, and carry it to the doctor for his opinion concerning some imaginary complaint which the jokers assigned to the animal.

“The fun, however, of the males is strictly confined to the young men's side of the house: there is nothing of the sort among the old men. The latter, indeed, taken as a whole, are about the most irritable and cross-grained beings in existence. They are perpetually on the watch for the slightest invasion of what they consider 'their rights,' and as perpetually vindicating the said rights by growl and snarl and venomous remark. To listen to them one would think that they were for ever on the point of coming to blows.

“Poor fellow! All things considered, their snarling is more to be pitied than blamed. There is no hope for them of escape from the house and its miserable existence. There is ample reason why, therefore, all the acidity of their tempers should be for ever on the surface.”