Memoirs of a Surrey Labourer: A Record of the Last Years of Frederick BettesworthSturt, George
History
Memoirs of a Surrey Labourer: A Record of the Last Years of Frederick Bettesworth
Sturt, George
Surrey (England) -- Fiction; Working class -- Fiction
From various circumstances it may be inferred that the early part of
Tuesday was an unhappy time for Bettesworth: a time of fretful
watching for the dawn, perhaps after a wakeful night; of impatience to
come and begin his day's work, and then of impatience for eleven
o'clock to arrive, and of brooding obstinate thoughts, until at eleven
he might go and get the miserable interview over. For it made him
miserable to have to sue in the form of a pauper, and he was prepared,
as poor folk generally are, to find in the relieving officer a bully
if not a brute. I may say at once that he was agreeably deceived, and
said as much afterwards--he was treated humanely and with
appreciation; but the relieving officer's account of the interview
sufficiently proves that the old man went to it in but a surly temper.
I imagine him standing up as straight as his crooked old limbs would
let him, rolling his head back defiantly, with tightened lips and
suspicious eyes, and answering as uncivilly as he dared. A compliment
was offered him, on his haste to get away from the infirmary in the
spring. "_I_ en't no workhouse man!" he answered brusquely. And he did
his best to persuade the relieving officer that he would never want
relief for himself, asserting that he belonged to a club, and
concealing the fact that he was a superannuated member of it, no
longer entitled to benefit from the club funds.
And then, the interview over, and the order obtained, his cheerfulness
for the rest of the day is suggestive of an ordeal successfully
passed. True, I have lost record of how he pottered through the
afternoon--it was, of course, useless to go to the parish doctor at
that time of day--but he seemed to have suddenly lost the weakness
still lingering from the operation in the hospital; and being short of
money, he proposed an extra job for the evening. He wanted to clear
out a cesspit in my garden. I urged that he had better rest, and take
care of himself as well as of his wife. "_I_ be gettin' bonny!" he
said happily.
He carried his point, too. As if he had no wife ill at home, at about
eight o'clock, which was usually his bed-time, he came back and began
his self-imposed task, with a young labourer to help. And he must have
been in merry spirits, for he kept his mate amused, so that from the
house I could hear the man laughing, in frequent bleating outbursts of
hilarity, at some facetious saying or other. One of these sayings I
heard, on going out to see how the work was progressing. "He must be a
greedy feller as wants more 'n one or two whiffs o' this," Bettesworth
remarked; and his companion let out another good-tempered laugh. From
the old man's manner I argued that his wife must be doing well; but
probably it indicated only a reaction from the moody temper of the
morning. The job was finished at about half-past nine, and conscious
of a good day's work done, Bettesworth once more crept over the hill
and across the valley, home.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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