London (England) -- Social conditions -- Fiction; Physicians -- Fiction; Poor -- Fiction
It came up again for the third time, and the woman on the barge grabbed
frantically at nothing, and tore her arm in the effort, so that a
crimson splash mingled with the eddying waters as he sank again.
And then the cornet-blower remembered himself, and dropped his cornet
hastily, as though it burned him. And, of all queer things for a
cornet-blower to do, he blubbered weakly, like a woman found out.
And the mischievous sun cast his shadow upon the water, and caused it to
dance joyously thereon, so that you would have deemed it to be the
shadow of one consumed with joy.
"Oh, my pore man!" cried the wife. "Oh, my pore man! Oh, my pore man!"
And the fat person from the next seat said to his friend, "I saw it
comin’. The giddy fool was larkin’ about like a ape." And, in the
meantime, the giddy fool did not come up again.
Suddenly the flower-girl spoke. "My Gawd!" she screamed, struggling
feverishly to disentangle herself from her shawl and the straps of her
basket and her fringe; "my Gawd! where’s all the blarsted men got to?
What’s ’appened to you? For Christ’s sake find a _man_, you fools!"
The ’bus emptied itself, and men ran into each other along the roadway,
and somebody ran for a policeman. So that there was a great deal of
noise and bustle shorewards. But at the same time certain male persons
of a much more silent and effective character made their appearance upon
the barges adjacent to the April barge. They did not shout, and they
did not run about much. They fetched poles and produced ropes, and one
of their number climbed into the water at the end of one; and presently,
after much probing and searching and jerking (and not a little
swearing), they brought him up at the end of a barge-pole, with a slime
concealing all of him except the sun-bonnet, which had slipped upon one
side, and looked more comical than ever.
"Oh, my pore man!" cried the barge-woman, who by now was surrounded by a
stimulating coterie of other barge-women.
"_E’s_ done for!" said my fat neighbour, and spat contentedly.
And the baby snatched at its mother’s head, which was still covered with
her husband’s hat, from which a single daffodil was dangling.
In the meantime, they laid him down upon the deck of a barge, and relays
of men, acting under the direction of a policeman, jerked at his arms,
and pulled his legs, and pummelled his chest. But, as the fat man had
said, _he_ was done for, and these exhausting efforts only made the baby
laugh. So they lifted him hurriedly, with a change of manner, as
befitted a changed burden, and conveyed him to the shore, where he was
placed upon an ambulance and deported.
The fat man formed himself into an impromptu committee of inspection.
He returned to his friend (and my side) after a lengthy dalliance by the
ambulance, and spoke as one well pleased.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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