The baronet stirred restlessly in his chair. He did not at all like this. Carbery, and the fair estate that went with it, had never yet been administered on commercial principles, especially when applied by so sweeping a reformer as Mr Wilkins of St Nicholas Poultney. ‘Mr Cornish keeps his accounts very correctly,’ he said in a hesitating tone. ‘Old Lord Harrogate gave him the stewardship, which his father had had before him, and his tenure of it has satisfied me.’
‘Because you can afford, or fancy you can, to be robbed right and left,’ said the lawyer, gulping down his wine. ‘It is your plausible hereditary steward, that has fattened and battened on the plunder of successive generations, who sucks the very marrow out of the land. Don’t tell me! I’ll overhaul Mr Cornish’s accounts in a way he’s little used to. But first you must introduce me to the farmers, Sir Sykes, and give me time to worm out of them what they pay, in kind or money, by way of fines, good-will, premium, and so forth, for the honour of tilling your under-rented acres. I’ll raise your rent-roll, never fear me, but not with a native chawbacon for prime-minister.’
‘So the steward must be flung overboard, it seems, as well as poor old Leathers the keeper,’ observed Jasper, half amused, but half annoyed.
‘And I’ve got another peg to fit into the vacant hole,’ said the lawyer, again addressing himself to the claret. ‘With your permission, Sir Sykes, to-morrow we’ll wire for him to run down from London for your approval. A sharp fellow is Abrahams. You won’t mind his persuasion? Jew as he is, he’s thoroughly at home in a farmhouse, counts every sheaf of wheat in the barn, and every house-lamb in the kitchen on frosty days, and wheedles out of the women what the husbands are too dogged to tell.—This is delicious claret, but no one except myself seems to drink it. Suppose we join the ladies?’
‘What has the governor done,’ groaned Jasper, as he lit his cigar, ‘to be under the thumb of such a man as this?’
WORK IN THE LONDON DOCKS.
In the metropolis there is always to be found a vast amount of ‘labour unattached,’ recruited from men in nearly every rank of life. To form an idea of the surplusage in the labour market, advertise for a ‘light-porter,’ and you will have at least two hundred applications before eleven o’clock the next day. If you desire a clerk at a salary of, say, twenty shillings a week, half a thousand eager candidates will apply for the vacancy. While if you have anything of a superior sort to offer, such as the secretaryship of a charitable institution, or hospital, suitable to the talents of retired military officers and others, probably a thousand competitors will offer themselves to your discrimination. Of course many people will be surprised that such numbers should prefer living in semi-idleness, hunting after any opportunity that offers, rather than exert themselves to obtain employment in less crowded localities; but then in London there is the great magnet of the ‘lucky chance’ constantly before their eyes. If one obtains a situation at a pound a week, there are constantly opportunities of bettering one’s self, especially in large firms, who carefully select and promote their men according to capability and merit. Then, again, a man may be starving in a garret, poorly dressed, existing somehow by borrowing a shilling or two occasionally when you meet him in the street; but in a month or two may be in a good position in an insurance company or an actuary’s office. But as bread must be obtained somehow until the golden opportunity offers itself, a number of men who have seen better days are compelled by sheer necessity to fly to that paradise of the destitute, the Docks.
The great Dock Companies in London, fully aware of the superabundance of labour always in the market, do not employ, permanently, one-third of the men they require, since they are usually able to procure at least twice as many hands as they need at a moment’s notice. Indeed so great is the competition for even Dock employment, that unless you are known to one of the foremen, or in some way furnished with an introduction to one of the Company’s officials, you stand a very poor chance of obtaining work, save occasionally, when a sudden pressure of business comes on and they are glad to accept any one that offers. Sometimes a huge ship comes in requiring to be discharged in a few days; and everybody who can work may, by offering himself, obtain employment for a brief period; but, the time of pressure over, he will present himself at the Dock-gates day after day in vain. The Company’s foremen of course give the preference to their regular hands, and the stranger who has helped them in their time of need is passed over. So the best thing you can do if you desire employment at the Docks is to obtain a letter of recommendation from some broker or merchant who does business with the Company, and according to the influence he possesses so will your work be regulated. It will require great influence to enable you to be placed on the ‘permanent’ or ‘extra-permanent’ staff; and the utmost you can hope for is to obtain employment by the day so long as any ships are at work, with the prospect of losing a few days now and then when things are dull.
The clock has struck a quarter past seven in the morning, and already may be seen clustered round the Dock-gates small groups of men, with hands invariably in their pockets and short pipes in their mouths, discussing the prospect of work for the day, and the only chance they have of obtaining a meal of food and a night’s lodging. These are the ‘chance’ or ‘odd-time’ men, who if they are not taken on the first thing, loiter about the entrance all day, waiting a ‘call’ from one of the foremen; sometimes making two, four, or five hours, as the case may be. Of all this class of men, it may be truly said that they are waiters upon Providence, for they are usually the last selected; and as to their garments (their sole earthly possession), very few of them could obtain a shilling for all they wear from head to foot. Indeed so dilapidated are some of their shoes, that it is no uncommon thing for them to be paid off after an hour’s work or so, because their feet will not retain a footing upon a slippery floor. It also occurs at times that they come in to work so famished that they sink exhausted after a little exertion, though in this case the foremen who employ them are generally kind-hearted enough to advance a few pence to obtain a little food to enable them to hold out the day. As the clock nears the half-hour (7.30 A.M.) the regular ‘outsiders’ come up. These men are in better condition than the others; but there is a seedy, ragged appearance about most of them, which tells the unmistakable tale that their chief earnings go to the public-house. And now there is a stir. A small wicket in the gate is open, and a foreman comes out, and calling out the names of the men he requires, they pass in. These are engaged by the half-hour, and are liable to be dismissed as soon as their work is completed, let the time be what it may. Usually they remain at work the whole day; but, should any unforeseen occurrence—such as stoppage of a ship’s discharge on account of weather, or a break-down in some of the machinery for removing cargo—prevent them labouring, the word is passed to ‘wash up,’ and they are paid off at once, perhaps an hour or two after they have been engaged.