|Title||The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists|
candles up there. It's only goin' to 'ave one coat, so see that you make it cover all right, and just look after Sawkins a bit so as 'e doesn't make a bloody mess of it. You do the doors and windows, and
let 'im do the cupboards and skirtings.'
`That's a bit of all right, I must say,' Harlow said, addressing the company generally. `We've got to teach a b--r like 'im so as 'e can do us out of a job presently by working under price.'
`Well, I can't 'elp it,' growled Crass. `You know 'ow it is: `Unter sends 'im 'ere to do paintin', and I've got to put 'im on it. There ain't nothing else for 'im to do.'
Further discussion on this subject was prevented by Sawkins' arrival, nearly a quarter of an hour late.
`Oh, you 'ave come, then,' sneered Crass. `Thought p'raps you'd gorn for a 'oliday.'
Sawkins muttered something about oversleeping