Adventures of Bindle

by Herbert George Jenkins

  CHAPTER VI

  MR. GUPPERDUCK'S MISHAP

  "I've been out all day waiting in queues," remarked Mrs. Bindlecomplainingly, "and all I got was two candles and a quarter of a poundof marjarine."

  "An' which are we goin' to 'ave for breakfast to-morrow?" enquiredBindle cheerfully.

  "Yes, a lot you care!" retorted Mrs. Bindle, "coming home regular toyour meals and expecting them to be ready, and then sitting down andeating. A lot you care!" she repeated.

  "Wot jer want to take a lodger for," demanded Bindle, "if you can'tget food enough for you an' me?"

  "Doesn't his money help us pay our way?" demanded Mrs. Bindle.

  "But wot's the good of 'avin' more money, Mrs. B., if you can't getenough food to go round?"

  "That's right, go on!" stormed Mrs. Bindle. "A lot of sympathy I getfrom you, a lot you care about me walking myself off my feet, so longas your stomach's full."

  Bindle scratched his head in perplexity, but forbore to retort;instead he hummed Mrs. Bindle's favourite hymn "Gospel Bells."

  "Look what you done to Mr. Hearty, that Saturday," cried Mrs. Bindle.

  "Me!" said Bindle, cursing himself for reminding her by humming thehymn.

  "Yes, you!" was the reply. "He had to go to the police-court."

  "Well, it's made 'is fortune, an' 'e got orf," replied Bindle.

  "Yes, but it might have ruined him. You wouldn't have cared, and inwar-time too," Mrs. Bindle added.

  "Well, well! the war'll be over some day," said Bindle cheerfully.

  "That's what you always say. Why don't they make peace?" demanded Mrs.Bindle, as if Bindle himself were the sole obstacle to thetranquillisation of the world. Mrs. Bindle sat down with adecisiveness that characterised all her movements.

  "Sometimes I wish I was dead," she remarked. "There's nothin' butinching and pinching and slaving my fingers to the bone trying to makea shilling go further than it will, and yet they won't make peace."

  "Mrs. B.," remarked Bindle, "you best keep to cookin', you're a dab atthat, and leave politics to them wot understands 'em. You can't catcha mad dog by puttin' salt on 'is tail. I wonder where ole Guppy is,"he continued, glancing at the kitchen clock, which pointed tohalf-past nine. "It ain't often 'e lets praying get in the way of 'ismeals."

  "I hope nothing has happened to him," remarked Mrs. Bindle a littleanxiously.

  "No fear o' that," replied Bindle regretfully. "Things don't 'appen tomen like Gupperduck; still it's funny 'im missin' a meal," he added.

  At a quarter to ten Mrs. Bindle reluctantly acquiesced in Bindle'sdemand for supper. She was clearly anxious, listening intently for thefamiliar sound of Mr. Gupperduck's key in the outer door.

  "I wonder what could have happened?" she said as the clock indicated aquarter past ten and she rose to clear away.

  "P'raps 'e's been took up to 'eaven like that cove wot 'Earty wastalkin' about the other night," suggested Bindle.

  Mrs. Bindle's sniff intimated that she considered such a remarkunworthy of her attention.

  "Ah! King Richard is 'isself again!" remarked Bindle, pushing hisplate from him, throwing himself back in his chair, and proceeding tofill his pipe, indifferent as to what happened to the lodger.

  Mrs. Bindle busied herself in putting Mr. Gupperduck's supper in theoven to keep warm.

  "Funny sort of job for a man to take up," remarked Bindleconversationally, as he lighted his pipe, "preaching at people wotonly laughs back."

  "Oh! you think so, do you!" snapped Mrs. Bindle.

  "I was listenin' to 'em one afternoon in Regent's Park," remarkedBindle. "Silly sort o' lot they seemed to me."

  "You're nothing but a heathen yourself," accused Mrs. Bindle.

  "As long as a cove keeps 'is religion to 'imself, I don't see itmatters to nobody wot 'e thinks, any more than whether 'e wears blueor pink pants under his trousers."

  "Don't be disgusing, Bindle," snapped Mrs. Bindle.

  "Disgustin'! what's disgustin'?"

  "Talking of what you talked of," replied Mrs. Bindle with asperity.

  "Well, I'm blowed!" said Bindle. "There you 'angs 'em on the line onMondays for everybody to see, and yet you mustn't talk about 'em;well, I'm blowed!" he repeated.

  "What do they say in the park?" questioned Mrs. Bindle curiously.

  "Oh! they says a lot o' things," replied Bindle. "Personally myself Ithink the atheists is the funniest. There was one cove there wot wasvery thin, and very anxious-looking. Said 'e wouldn't insult 'isintelligence by believin' the things wot preachers said, so I put aquestion to 'im."

  "What did you say?" enquired Mrs. Bindle.

  "I asks 'im if 'e was quite sure 'e 'ad any intelligence to insult,an' that made 'em laugh."

  Mrs. Bindle nodded her head in approval.

  Bindle regarded her in wide-eyed amazement. Never before in the wholeof his experience had he known her approve word or action of his.

  "Did he say anything else?" queried Mrs. Bindle.

  "No; 'e soon got down, an' another cove got up. Then they started aChristian meeting next door, and there was them two lots of peopleshouting all sorts of things at each other. Wot Gawd must 'ave thoughtof it all does me. Why can't they stay at home and pray if they feelas bad as all that. A day a month at 'ome to blow orf, instead ofgoin' into Regent's Park, a-kicking up a row so as you can't 'ear thebirds sing, makes you feel ashamed o' bein' a man, it does. One chapgot up and said he was goin' to prove there wasn't no Gawd."

  "And what did he say?" asked Mrs. Bindle with interest.

  "All 'e could say was, that 'im and 'is friends 'ad searchedeverywhere through wot they called the whole physical world, an' they'adn't found 'Im, therefore there wasn't no Gawd."

  "They didn't ought to allow it," commented Mrs. Bindle indignantly.

  "Then another cove got up and said 'e 'oped that 'is friend, wot 'adjust got down, 'ad proved to the whole Park that there wasn't no Gawd,and if there was any thinkin' different would they 'old up their'ands."

  "Did anybody hold up their hands?" asked Mrs. Bindle.

  "Yes, up went my little 'and like a whiz-bang," announced Bindle.

  Mrs. Bindle gave Bindle a look that she usually reserved for Mr.Hearty.

  "'Well, sir!' says 'e, lookin' at me, 'wot is your question?'

  "'Well,' says I, 'will you and your pals come round with me to-morrowmorning an' try and enlist?' There was a rare lot of khaki boys roundthere, and didn't they raise a yell. That was the end of that meeting.Every time anyone tried to get up an' speak, them khaki boys starteda-'ootin' and a-callin' out, and 'avin' of a rare ole time. There wasone cove wot made us laugh fit to die. Every time one o' the atheistsstarted talkin', 'e said in a 'igh-pitched voice, 'Oh, Cuthbert,don't!' as if it was a gal wot was being squeezed."

  Mrs. Bindle had listened to Bindle with the nearest approach toapproval that she had ever shown.

  "There was another cove there," continued Bindle, warming to hissubject. "Funny little feller 'e was too, all cap an' overcoat,talking about the Judgment Day. Awful things 'e promised us, 'e did.Made out as if Gawd was worse than an 'Un. 'E said 'e'd be standin'beside Gawd when all the people was judged, and 'e'd tell 'Im 'ow 'e'dbeen in Regent's Park a-warnin' people wot was goin' to 'appen, and noone wouldn't take no notice. Then we was all goin' to be sent into asort of mixed-grill and burnt for ever. Nice comforting little cove 'ewas; pleasant to live with," added Bindle drily.

  "Why religion can't make you 'appy without you a-tryin' to make otherpeople un'appy is wot does me. When I got a good cigar I don't gowaving it in the face of every cove I meets, saying, 'Ah! you ain'tgot a cigar like this, you only got a woodbine.' Don't seemgood-natured, it don't."

  "We've got to save souls," remarked Mrs. Bindle with grim decision.

  "But didn't a man ought to be good because he wants to be good, andnot because 'e's afraid of being bad?" demanded Bindle.

  Mrs. Bindle pondered over this remark for a moment; but finding it toodeep for her replied, "You alw
ays was a doubter, Bindle; I'd have beena happier woman if you hadn't been."

  "But," continued Bindle, "do you think Gawd wants to 'ave a man inchapel wot wants to be at the Empire, only doesn't go because 'e'safraid? I wouldn't if I was Gawd," he added, shaking his head withdecision. "Look at 'Earty's 'orse on Saturday nights. Can't 'ardlydrag itself to the stables, it can't, yet 'Earty's as sure of 'eavenas I am of you, Mrs. B."

  Mrs. Bindle was silent, her manner was distraite, she was listeningfor the sound of Mr. Gupperduck's return.

  "I'd give my sugar ration to know wot we're all a-goin' to do in'eaven," remarked Bindle meditatively. "Fancy 'Earty there! Wot will'e do? They won't let 'im sell vegetables, and they'll soon stop 'imsinging."

  "We shall all have our occupations," remarked Mrs. Bindle oracularly.

  "Yes, but wot?" demanded Bindle. "There ain't no furniture to move an'no vegetables to sell. All I can do is to watch 'Earty, an' see 'edon't go round pinchin' angels' meat-tickets."

  For once Mrs. Bindle allowed a remark to pass without the inevitableaccusation of blasphemy!

  "No," remarked Bindle, "if I dies an' they sends me up to 'eaven, Ishall knock at the door, an' I shall say, 'Is 'Earty 'ere? 'Earty theFulham and Putney greengrocer, you know.' If they says 'Yes,' thenit's a smoker for me;" and Bindle proceeded to re-charge his pipe. "Ioften thought----"

  Bindle was interrupted by a loud knocking at the outer door. With aswift movement Mrs. Bindle rose and passed out of the kitchen. Bindlelistened. There was a sound of men's voices in the outer passage, withthe short, sharper tones of Mrs. Bindle. A moment later the dooropened, and two men entered supporting the limp form of Mr.Gupperduck.

  "'Oly angels!" cried Bindle, starting up. "'Oly angels! someone's beena-tryin' to alter 'im." He bent forward to get a better view. "Done itpretty well, too," he muttered as he gazed at the unprepossessingfeatures of Mr. Gupperduck, now accentuated by a black eye, a brokenlip, a contusion on the right cheek-bone, and one ear covered withblood. His collar had disappeared, also his hat and spectacles, hiswaist-coat was torn open, and various portions were missing from hiscoat.

  "Wot's 'e been doin'?" enquired Bindle of a weedy-looking man withlong hair, a sandy pointed beard, and a cloth cap, three sizes toolarge for him, which rested on the tops of his ears. "Wot's 'e been upto?"

  "He's been addressing a meeting," replied the man in a mournful voice.

  Bindle turned once more to Mr. Gupperduck and examined him closely.

  "Looks as if the meetin's been addressin' 'im, don't it?" he remarked.

  "It was not a very successful meeting," remarked the other supporterof Mr. Gupperduck, a very little man with a very long beard. "Itwasn't a very successful meeting," he repeated with conviction.

  "Well, I never seen a meetin' make such alterations in a man in all mypuff," remarked Bindle.

  Mrs. Bindle had busied herself in preparing a basin of hot water withwhich to wash the mud and blood from the victim's pallid face. Withclosed eyes Mr. Gupperduck continued to breathe heavily.

  Bindle with practical samaritanism went into the parlour and returnedwith a half-quartern bottle. Pouring some of the contents into a glasshe held it to Mr. Gupperduck's lips. Without the least resistance theliquid was swallowed.

  "Took that down pretty clean," said Bindle, looking up at the man withthe sandy beard.

  "Don't do that!" cried Mrs. Bindle, turning suddenly, her nostrilsdetecting the smell of alcohol.

  "Do what?" enquired Bindle from where he knelt beside the damaged Mr.Gupperduck.

  "Give him that," said Mrs. Bindle, "he's temperance."

  "Well, 'e ain't now," remarked Bindle with calm conviction.

  "Oh, you villain!" The vindictiveness of Mrs. Bindle's tone caused thethree listeners to look up, and even Mr. Gupperduck's eyelids, after apreliminary flutter, raised themselves, as he gazed about himwonderingly.

  "Where am I?" he moaned.

  "You're all right," said Mrs. Bindle, taking Bindle's place by Mr.Gupperduck's side. "You're safe now."

  Mr. Gupperduck closed his eyes again, and Mrs. Bindle proceeded towipe his face with a piece of flannel dipped in water.

  "Pore ole Guppy!" murmured Bindle. "They done it in style any'ow. Iwonder wot 'e's been up to. Must 'ave been sayin' things wot theydidn't like. Wot was 'e talkin' about, ole sport?"

  Bindle turned to the man with the sandy beard, who was sitting on achair leaning forward with one hand on each knee, much as if he werewatching a cock-fight.

  "It was a Peace meeting," replied the man mournfully.

  Bindle gave vent to a prolonged whistle of understanding.

  "Oh, Guppy, Guppy!" he cried. "Why couldn't you 'ave kept to the nextworld, without getting mixed up with this?"

  "It was wounded soldiers," volunteered the man with the sandy beard.

  "Wounded soldiers!" exclaimed Bindle.

  "Yes," continued the man mournfully; "he appealed to them, assufferers under this terrible armageddon, to pass a resolutioncondemning the continuance of the war, and--and----"

  "They passed their resolution on 'is face," suggested Bindle.

  The man nodded. "It was terrible," he said, "terrible; we were afraidthey would kill him."

  "And where was you while all this was 'appenin'?"

  "Oh!" said the man, "I was fortunate enough to find a tree."

  Bindle looked him up and down with elaborate intentness, then havingsatisfied himself as to every detail of his appearance and apparel, heremarked:

  "Ain't it wonderful wot luck some coves do 'ave!"

  "I regard it as the direct interposition of Providence," said the man.

  "And I suppose you shinned up that tree like giddy-o?" suggestedBindle.

  "Yes," said the man, "I was brought up in the country."

  "Was you now?" said Bindle. "Well, it was lucky for you, wasn't it?"

  "The hand of God," was the reply; "clearly the hand of God."

  "Sort o' boosted you up the tree from behind, so as when they'd allgone you could come down and pick up wot was left of 'im. That it?"enquired Bindle.

  "That is exactly what happened, my friend," replied the man with thesandy beard.

  "An' where did all this 'appen?" asked Bindle.

  "It took place in Hyde Park," replied the man. "A very rough meeting,an extremely rough meeting, and he was speaking so well, soconvincingly," he added.

  Bindle looked at the man curiously to see if he were really serious;but there was no vestige of a smile upon his face.

  "It's wonderful wot a man can do with a crowd," remarked Bindleoracularly; "but," turning to the inert figure of Mr. Gupperduck,"it's still more wonderful wot a crowd can do with a man."

  "Bindle!" Mrs. Bindle's voice rang out authoritatively.

  "'Ere am I," replied Bindle obediently.

  "Help us lift Mr. Gupperduck on a chair."

  With elaborate care they raised the inert form of Mr. Gupperduck on toa chair. His arms fell down limply beside him. Once he opened hiseyes, and looked round the room, then, sighing as if in thankfulnessat being amongst friends, he closed them again.

  "'The Lord hath given me rest from mine enemies,'" he quoted.

  Mrs. Bindle and the two friends regarded Mr. Gupperduck admiringly.

  Seeing that their friend and brother was now in safe hands, Mr.Gupperduck's two supporters prepared to withdraw. Mrs. Bindle pressedthem to have something to eat; but this they refused.

  "Now ain't women funny," muttered Bindle, as Mrs. Bindle left the roomto show her visitors to the door. "She was jest complaining that shecould only get two candles and a quarter of a pound of marjarine, andyet she wants them two coves to stay to supper, 'ungry-lookin' pairthey was too. I s'pose it's wot she calls 'ospitality," he added;"seems to me damn silly."

  Like a hen fussing over a damaged chick, Mrs. Bindle ministered to therequirements of Mr. Gupperduck. She fed him with a spoon, crooned overand sympathised with him in his misfortune, whilst in her heart therewas a great anger a
gainst those who had raised their hands against sogodly a man.

  When he had eventually been half-led, half-carried upstairs by Bindle,and Bindle himself had returned to the kitchen, Mrs. Bindle expressedher unambiguous opinion of a country that permitted such an outrage.She likened Mr. Gupperduck to those in the Scriptures who had beenstoned by the multitude. She indicated that in the next world therewould be a terrible retribution upon those who were responsible forthe assault upon Mr. Gupperduck. She attacked the Coalition Governmentfor not providing a more effective police force.

  "But," protested Bindle at length, "'e was askin' for it. Why can't 'ekeep 'is opinions to 'imself, and not go a-shovin' 'em down otherpeople's throats when they don't like the taste of 'em? If you gotryin' to shove tripe down the throat of a cove wot don't like tripe,you're sure to get one in the eye, that is if 'e's bigger'n wot youare; if 'e's smaller 'e'll jest be sick. Yet 'ere are youa-complainin' because Guppy gets 'imself 'urt. I don't understand----"

  "Because you haven't got a soul," interrupted Mrs. Bindle withconviction.

  "Well," remarked Bindle philosophically, "I'd sooner 'ave a flea thana soul, there is flea-powder but there ain't no soul-powder wot I'vebeen able to find."

  And Bindle rose, yawned and made towards the door.