own clothes were worn and old, but they looked respectable indeed by the side of those of his companion. Bill's elbows were both out, the jacket was torn and ragged, he had no waistcoat, and his trousers were far too large for him, and were kept up by a single brace, and were patched in a dozen places.
When George first met him he was shoeless, but soon after they had set up housekeeping together George had bought from a cobbler's stall a pair of boots for two shillings, and these, although now almost falling to pieces, were still the best part of Bill's outfit.
CHAPTER III.
WORK
The next morning George went out with the bundle containing his Sunday clothes, which had been untouched since his arrival in town, and going to an old-clothes shop he exchanged them for a suit of working clothes in fair condition, and then returning hid his bundle in the hay and rejoined Bill, who had from early morning been at work shelling walnuts. Although Bill was somewhat surprised at his companion not beginning work at the usual time he asked no questions, for his faith in George was so unbounded that everything he did was right in his eyes.
"There is our last day's work in the market, Bill," George said as they reached their loft that evening.
"It's your last day's work, George, I aint no doubt; but I expects it aint mine by a long way. I have been a-thinking over this 'ere go, and I don't think as it will act nohow. In the first place I aint fit to go to such a place, and they are sure to make it hot for me."
"That's nonsense, Bill; there are lots of roughish sort of boys in works of that sort, and you will soon be at home with the rest."
"In the next place," Bill went on, unheeding the interruption, "I shall be getting into some blooming row or other afore I have been there a week, and they will like enough turn you out as well as me. That's what I am a-thinking most on, George. If they chucks me the chances are as they chucks you too; and if they did that arter all the pains you have had to get a place I should go straight off and make a hole in the water. That's how I looks at it."
"But I don't think, Bill, that there's any chance of your getting into a row. Of course at first we must both expect to be blown up sometimes, but if we do our best and don't answer back again we shall do as well as the others."
"Oh, I shouldn't cheek 'em back," Bill said. "I am pretty well used to getting blown up. Every one's always at it, and I know well enough as it don't pay to cheek back, not unless you have got a market-cart between you and a clear road for a bolt. I wasn't born yesterday. Yer've been wery good to me, you have, George, and before any harm should come to yer through me, s'help me, I'd chuck myself under a market-wagon."
"I know you would, Bill; but, whatever you say, you have been a far greater help to me than I have to you. Anyhow we are not going to part now. You are coming to work with me to start with, and I know you will do your best to keep your place. If you fail, well, so much the worse, it can't be helped; but after our being sent there by Mr. Penrose I feel quite sure that the foreman would not turn me off even if he had to get rid of you."
"D'yer think so?"
"I do, indeed, Bill."
"Will yer take yer davey?"
"Yes, if it's any satisfaction to you, Bill, I will take my davey that I do not think that they would turn me off even if they sent you away."
"And yer really wants me to go with yer, so help yer?"
"Really and truly, Bill."
"Wery well, George, then I goes; but mind yer, it's 'cause yer wishes me."
So saying, Bill curled himself up in the hay, and George soon heard by his regular breathing that he was sound asleep.
The next morning, before anyone was stirring, they went down into the yard, as was their custom on Sunday mornings, for a good wash, stripping to the waist and taking it by turns to pump over each other. Bill had at first protested against the fashion, saying as he did very well and did not see no use in it; but seeing that George really enjoyed it he followed his example. After a morning or two, indeed, and with the aid of a piece of soap which George had bought, Bill got himself so bright and shiny as to excite much sarcastic comment and remark from his former companions, which led to more than one pugilistic encounter.
That morning George remained behind in the loft for a minute or two after Bill had run down, attired only in his trousers. When Bill went up the ladder after his ablutions he began hunting about in the hay.
"What are you up to, Bill?"
"Blest if I can find my shirt. Here's two of yourn knocking about, but I can't see where's mine, nor my jacket neither."
"It's no use your looking, Bill, for you won't find them, and even if you found them you couldn't put 'em on. I have torn them up."
"Torn up my jacket!" Bill exclaimed in consternation. "What lark are yer up to now, George?"
"No lark at all. We are going together to work to-morrow, and you could not go as you were; so you put on that shirt and those things," and he threw over the clothes he had procured the day before.
Bill looked in astonishment.
"Why, where did yer get 'em, George? I knows yer only had four bob with what we got yesterday. Yer didn't find 'em, and yer didn't – no, in course yer didn't – nip 'em."
"No, I didn't steal them certainly," George said, laughing. "I swapped my Sunday clothes for them yesterday. I can do without them very well till we earn enough to get another suit. There, don't say anything about it, Bill, else I will punch your head."
Bill stared at him with open eyes for a minute, and then threw himself down in the hay and burst into tears.
"Oh, I say, don't do that!" George exclaimed. "What have you to cry about?"
"Aint it enough to make a cove cry," Bill sobbed, "to find a chap doing things for him like that? I wish I may die if I don't feel as if I should bust. It's too much, that's what it is, and it's all on one side; that's the wust of it."
"I dare say you will make it even some time, Bill; so don't let's say anything more about it, but put on your clothes. We will have a cup of coffee each and a loaf between us for breakfast, and then we will go for a walk into the park, the same as we did last Sunday, and hear the preaching."
The next morning they were up at their accustomed hour and arrived at the works at Limehouse before the doors were opened. Presently some men and boys arrived, the doors were opened, and the two boys followed the others in.
"Hallo! who are you?" the man at the gate asked.
George gave their names, and the man looked at his time-book.
"Yes, it's all right; you are the new boys. You are to go into that planing-shop," and he pointed to one of the doors opening into the yard.
The boys were not long before they were at work. Bill was ordered to take planks from a large pile and to hand them to a man, who passed them under one of the planing-machines. George was told to take them away as fast as they were finished and pile them against a wall. When the machines stopped for any adjustment or alteration both were to sweep up the shavings and ram them into bags, in which they were carried to the engine-house.
For a time the boys were almost dazzled by the whirl of the machinery, the rapid motion of the numerous wheels and shafting overhead, and of the
