|Title||The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists|
suicide because the painters had come to turn 'em out of house and home. There were a man, his wife and daughter - a girl about seventeen - living in the house, and all three of 'em used to drink like hell. As for the woman, she COULD shift it and no mistake! Several times a day she used to send the
girl with a jug to the pub at the corner. When the old man was out, one could have anything one liked to ask for from either of 'em for half a pint of beer, but for his part, said Harlow, he could never fancy it. They were both too ugly. The finale of this tale was received with a burst of incredulous laughter by those who heard it.
`Do you 'ear what Harlow says, Bob?' Easton shouted to Crass.
`No. What was it?'
`'E ses 'e once 'ad a chance to 'ave something