Adventures of Working Men Part 4

"And, ah! how cool and pleasant that first puff of wind was, and how the fear and horror seemed to go away as I climbed out, and stood looking about me; till all at once I started, for there came up out of the pot, buzzing like, Barkby's voice, as he calls out, 'Go ahead, boy!'

"So then I set to rattling away with my brush-handle to show as I was out, and then climbs down on to the roof, and begins looking about me.

It was just getting daylight, so that I could see my way about, and all seemed so fresh and strange that, with my brush in my hand, I begins to wander over the roofs, climbing up the slates and sliding down t'other side, which was good fun, and worth doing two or three times over. Then I got to a parapet, and leaned looking over into the street, and thinking of what a way it would be to tumble; but so far off being afraid, I got on to the stone coping, and walked along ever so far, till I came to an attic window, where I could peep in and see a man lying asleep, with his mouth half open; then I climbed up another slope, and had another slide down; and then another, and another, till I forgot all about my sore knees; and at last sat astride of the highest part, looking about me at the view I had of the tops of houses as far as I could see, for it was getting quite light now.

"All at once I turned all of a horrible fright, for I recklected about Barkby, and felt almost as if he'd got hold of me, and was thrashing me for being so long. I ran to the first chimbley stack, but that wasn't right, for I knew as the one I came up was a-top of a slate-sloping roof. Then I ran to another, thinking I should know the one I came out of by the sutt upon it. But they'd all got sutt upon 'em--every chimbley-pot I looked at, and so I hunted about from one to another till I got all in a muddle, and didn't know where I was nor which pot I'd got out of. Last of all, shaking and trembling, I makes sure as I'd got the right one, and climbing up I managed, after nearly tumbling off, to get my legs in, when pulling down my cap, I let myself through a bit at a time, and leaving go I slipped with a regular rush, n.o.body knows how far, till I came to a bend in the chimbley, where I stopped short-- sc.r.a.ped, and bruised, and trembling, while I felt that confused I couldn't move.

"After a bit I came round a little, and, whimpering and crying to myself, I began to feel my way about a bit with my toes, and then got along a little away straight like, when the chimbley took another bend down, and stiffly and slowly I let myself down a little and a little till my feet touched cold iron, and I could get no farther. But after thinking a bit, I made out where I was, and that I was standing on the register of a fireplace, so I begins to lift it up with my toes as well as I could, when crash it went down again, and there came such a squealing and screeching as made me begin climbing up again as fast as I could till I reached the bend, where I stopped and had another cry, I felt so miserable; and then I shrunk up and shivered, for there came a roar and a rattle that echoed up the chimbley, while the sutt came falling down in a way that nearly smothered me.

"Now, I knew enough to tell myself that the people being frightened had fired a gun up the chimbley, while the turn round as it took had saved me from being hurt. So I sat squatted up quite still, and then heard some one shout out 'Hallo!' two or three times, and then 'Puss, puss, puss!' Then I could hear voices whispering a bit, and then the register was banged down, as I supposed by the noise.

"Only fancy! sitting in a bend of the chimbley shivering with fear, and half smothered with heat and sutt, while your breath comes heavy and thick from the cap over your face! Not nice, it ain't; and more than once I've felt a bit sorry for the poor boys as I've sent up chimbleys in my time. But there I was, and I soon began scrambling up again, and worked hard, for the chimbley was wider than the other one. Last of all I got up to the pot, and out on to the stack, and then again I had a good cry.

"Now, when I'd rubbed my eyes again, I had another look round, and felt as if I was at the wrong pot, so I scrambled down, slipped over the slates, and got to a stack in front, when I felt sure I was right, for there were black finger-marks on the red pot; so I got up, slipped my legs in, and taking care this time that I didn't fall, began to lower myself down slowly, though I was all of a twitter to know what Barkby would do to me for being so long. Now I'd slip a little bit, being so sore and rubbed I could hardly stop myself; and then I'd manage to let myself down gently; but all at once the chimbley seemed to open so wide, being an old one I suppose, that I couldn't reach very well with my back and elbows pressed out; so, feeling myself slipping again, I tried to stick my nails in the bricks, at the same time drawing my knees 'most up to my chin, when down I went perhaps a dozen feet, and then, where there was a bit of a curve, I stuck reg'lar wedged in all of a heap, nose and chin altogether, knees up against the bricks on one side, and my back against the other, and me not able to move.

"For a bit I was so frightened that I never tried to stir, but last of all the horrid fix I was in came upon me like a clap, and there I was, half choked, dripping with perspiration, and shuddering in every limb, wedged in where all was dark as Egypt.

"After a bit I managed to drag off my cap, thinking that I could then see the daylight through the pot. But no; the chimbley curved about too much, and all was dark as ever; while what puzzled me was, that I couldn't breathe any easier now the cap was off, for it seemed hot, and close, and stuffy, though I thought that was through me being so frightened, for I never fancied now but I was in the right chimbley, and wondered that Barkby didn't shout.

"All at once there came a terrible fear all over me--a feeling that I've never forgotten, nor never shall as long as I'm a sweep. It was as if all the blood in my body had run out and left me weak, and helpless, and faint, for down below I could hear a heavy beat-beat-beat noise, that I knew well enough, and up under me came a rush of hot smoke that nearly suffocated me right off; when I gave such a horrid shriek of fear as I've never forgot neither, for the sound of it frightened me worse.

"It didn't sound like my voice at all, as I kept on shrieking, and groaning, and crying for help, too frightened to move, though I've often thought since as a little twisting on my part would have set me loose, to try and climb up again. But, bless you, no; I could do nothing but shout and cry, with the noise I made sounding hollow and stifly, and the heat and smoke coming up so as to nearly choke me over and over again.

"I knew fast enough now that I had come down a chimbley where there had been a clear fire, and now some one had put lumps of coal on, and been breaking them up; and in the fright I was in I could do nothing else but shout away till my voice got weak and wiry, and I coughed and wheezed for breath.

"But I hadn't been crying for nothing, though; for soon I heard some one shout up the chimbley, and then came a deal of poking and noise, and the smoke and heat came curling up by me worse than ever, so that I thought it was all over with me, but at the same time came a whole lot of hot, bad-smelling steam; and then some one knocked at the bricks close by my head, and I heard a buzzing sound, when I gave a hoa.r.s.e sort of cry, and then felt stupid and half asleep.

"By-and-by there was a terrible knocking and hammering close beside me, getting louder and louder every moment; and yet it didn't seem to matter to me, for I hardly knew what was going on, though the voices came nearer and the noise plainer, and at last I've a bit of recollection of hearing some one say 'Fetch brandy,' and I wondered whether they meant Barkby, while I could feel the fresh air coming upon me. Then I seemed to waken up a bit, and see the daylight through a big hole, where there was ever so much rough broken bricks and mortar between me and the light; and next thing I recollect is lying upon a mattress, with a fine gentleman leaning over me, and holding my hand in his.

"'Don't,' I says in a whisper; 'It's all sutty.' Then I see him smile, and he asked me how I was.

"'Oh, there ain't no bones broke,' I says; 'only Barkby'll half kill me.'

"'What for?' says another gentleman.

"'Why, coming down the wrong chimbley,' I says; and then, warming up a bit with my wrongs, 'But 'twarn't my fault,' I says. 'Who could tell t'other from which, when there warn't no numbers nor nothink on 'em, and they was all alike, so as you didn't know which to come down, and him a swearing acause you was so long? Where is he?' I says in a whisper.

"One looked at t'other, and there was six or seven people about me; for I was lying on the mattress put on the floor close aside a great hole in the wall, and a heap o' bricks and mortar.

"'Who?' says the first gent, who was a doctor.

"'Why, Barkby,' I says; 'my guv'nor, who sent me up number seven's chimbley.'

"'Oh, he's not here,' says someone. 'This ain't number seven; this is number ten. Send to seven,' he says.

"Then they began talking a bit; and I heard something said about 'poor boy,' and 'fearful groans,' and 'horrid position;' and they thought I didn't hear 'em, for I'd got my eyes shut, meaning to sham Abram when Barkby came, for fear he should hurt me; but I needn't have shammed, for I couldn't neither stand nor sit up for a week arter; and I believe arter all, it's that has had something to do with me being so husky-voiced.

"Old Barkby never hit me a stroke, and I believe arter all he was sorry for me; but a sweep's is a queer life even now, though afore the act was pa.s.sed some poor boys was used cruel, and more than one got stuck in a floo, to be pulled out dead."

CHAPTER SIX.

MY SHEFFIELD PATIENT.

Plenty of you know Sheffield by name; but I think those who know it by nature are few and far between. If you tried to give me your impressions of the place, you would most likely begin to talk of a black, smoky town, full of forges, factories, and furnaces, with steam blasts hissing, and Nasmyth hammers thudding and thundering all day long. But there you would stop, although you were right as far as you went. Let me say a little more, speaking as one who knows the place, and tell you that it lies snugly embosomed in glorious hills, curving and sweeping between which are some of the loveliest vales in England.

The town is in parts dingy enough, and there is more smoke than is pleasant; but don't imagine that all Sheffield's sons are toiling continually in a choking atmosphere. There is a cla.s.s of men--a large cla.s.s, and one that has attained to a not very enviable notoriety in Sheffield--I mean the grinders--whose task is performed under far different circ.u.mstances; and when I describe one wheel, I am only painting one of hundreds cl.u.s.tering round the busy town, ready to sharpen and polish the blades for which Sheffield has long been famed.

Through every vale there flows a stream, fed by lesser rivulets, making their way down little valleys rich in wood and dell. Wherever such a streamlet runs trickling over the rocks, or bubbling amongst the stones, water rights have been established, hundreds of years old; busy hands have formed dams, and the pent-up water is used for turning some huge water-wheel, which in its turn sets in motion ten, twenty, or thirty stones in the long shed beside it, the whole being known in the district as "a wheel."

One of my favourite walks lay along by a tiny bubbling brook, overhung with trees, up past wheel after wheel, following the streamlet towards its head, higher up the gorge through which it ran--a vale where you might stand and fancy yourself miles from man and his busy doings, as you listened to the silvery tinkle of the water playing amidst the pebbles, the sweet twittering song of birds overhead, or the hum of bees busy amidst the catkins and the blossoms; watched the flashing of the bright water as the sun glistened and darted amidst the leaves, till on the breeze would come the "plash, plash," of the water-wheel, and the faintly-heard harsh "chir-r-r-r" of blade upon grindstone, When, recollecting that man was bound to earn his bread in the sweat of his brow, one would leave the beauties around, and hurry on to some visit.

I had a patient who used to work in one of those pleasant little vales-- a patient to whom it fell to my lot to render, next to life, almost one of the greatest services man can render to man.

He was genial and patient, handsome too, and I used to think what a fine manly looking fellow he must have been before he suffered from the dastardly outrage of which he was the victim.

He was very low spirited during the early part of his illness and he used to talk to me in a quiet patient way about the valley, and I was surprised to find how fond he was of nature and its beauties, some of the sentiments that came from his lips being far above what one would have expected from such a man.

My bill, I am sorry to say, was a very long one with him, but he laughed and said that he had been a long patient.

"Why Doctor," he said one evening many many months after his accident, and when he had quite recovered, and as he spoke he took his wife's hand, "I shouldn't have found fault if it had been twice as much. I only wish it was, and I had the money to pay you that or four times as much. But you haven't made a very handsome job of me: has he, Jenny?"

There were tears in his wife's eyes, though there was a smile upon her lip, and I knew that she was one who, as he told me, looked upon the heart.

"Ah, Doctor," he said to me as he went over the troublous past, "it was very pleasant there working where you had only to lift your eyes from the wet whirling stone and look out of the open shed window at the bright blue sky and sunshine. There was not much listening to the birds there amongst the hurrying din of the rushing stones, and the chafing of band, and shriek of steel blade being ground; but the toil seemed pleasanter there, with nothing but the waving trees to stay the light of G.o.d's sunshine, and I used to feel free and happy, and able to drink in long draughts of bright, pure air, whenever I straightened myself from my task, and gathered strength for the next spell.

"I could have been very happy there on that wheel, old and ramshackle place as it was, if people would only have let me. I was making a pretty good wage, and putting by a little every week, for at that time it had come into my head that I should like to take to myself a wife.

Now, I'd lived nine-and-twenty years without such a thing coming seriously to mind, but one Sunday, when having a stroll out on the Glossop Road with John Ross--a young fellow who worked along with me--we met some one with her mother and father; and from that afternoon I was a changed man.

"I don't know anything about beauty, and features, and that sort of thing; but I know that Jenny Lee's face was the sweetest and brightest I ever saw; and for the rest of the time we were together I could do nothing but feast upon it with my eyes.

"John Ross knew the old people; and when I came to reckon afterwards, I could see plainly enough why my companion had chosen the Glossop Road: for they asked us to walk with them as far as their cottage, which was nigh at hand; and we did, and stayed to tea, and then they walked part of the way back in the cool of the evening. When we parted, and John Ross began to chatter about them, it seemed as if a dark cloud was settling down over my life, and that all around was beginning to look black and dismal.

"'You'll go with me again, Harry?' he said to me as we parted. 'I shan't wait till Sunday, but run over on Wednesday night.'

"'I don't know, I'll see,' I said; and then we parted.

"I went out that afternoon happy and light-hearted, I came back mad and angry. 'He wants me to go with him to talk to the old people, while he can chatter, and say empty nothings to that girl, who is as much too good for him as she is for--'

"'Me!' I said after a pause, for I seemed to grow sensible all at once, and to see that I was making myself what I called rather stupid. Then I began to take myself to task, and to consider about the state of affairs, seeing how that John Ross's visits were evidently favoured by the old people, perhaps by their daughter, and therefore, why was I to thrust myself in the way, and, besides being miserable myself, make two or three others the same?

"'I'll go to bed and have a good night's rest,' I said, 'and so forget all about it.'

"How easy it is to make one's arrangements, but how hard sometimes to follow them out! I had no sleep at all that night; and so far from getting up and going to begin the fresh week's work light-hearted and happy, and determined not to pay any more visits along with John Ross, I was dull, disheartened, and worrying myself as to whether Jenny Lee cared anything for my companion.

"'If she does,' I said to myself, 'I'll keep away, but if she does not, why may she not be brought to think about me?'

"Somehow or another, John Ross had always made companion of me, in spite of our having very different opinions upon certain subjects. He was for, and I was strongly against trades unions. He always used to tell me that he should convert me in time; but although we had been intimate for three years, that time had not come yet. On the contrary, certain outrages that had disgusted the working men, had embittered me against the unions. However, we kept friends; and it was not upon that question that he became my most bitter enemy.

"After many a long consultation with myself, I had determined to go with Ross to the Lees only once more, and had gone; but somehow that 'only once more' grew into another and another visit; till from going with John Ross alone, I got into the habit of calling without him, and was always well received. Jenny was pleasant and merry, and chatty, and the old folks were sociable; and the pleasure derived from these visits smothered the remorse I might otherwise have felt, for I could plainly see, from John Ross's manner, how jealous and annoyed he was. And yet his visits always seemed welcome. There was the same cheery greeting from the old folks, the same ready hand-shake from Jenny; but matters went on until, from being friends, John Ross and I furiously hated one another, even to complete avoidance; while, from the honest, matured thoughts of later years, I can feel now that it was without cause, Jenny's feelings towards us being as innocent and friendly as ever dwelt in the breast of a true-hearted English girl.