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more arf an' arf； he generously proposed that we drink up the whole
shilling。
〃My mate； 'e cut up rough las' night；〃 he explained。 〃An' the bobbies
got 'm； so you can bunk in wi' me。 Wotcher say？〃
I said yes； and by the time we had soaked ourselves in a whole
shilling's worth of beer； and slept the night on a miserable bed in a
miserable den； I knew him pretty fairly for what he was。 And that in one
respect he was representative of a large body of the lower… class London
workman； my later experience substantiates。
He was London…born； his father a fireman and a drinker before him。
As a child； his home was the streets and the docks。 He had never learned
to read； and had never felt the need for ita vain and useless
accomplishment； he held； at least for a man of his station in life。
He had had a mother and numerous squalling brothers and sisters； all
crammed into a couple of rooms and living on poorer and less regular food
than he could ordinarily rustle for himself。 In fact； he never went home
except at periods when he was unfortunate in procuring his own food。
Petty pilfering and begging along the streets and docks； a trip or two to sea
as mess…boy； a few trips more as coal…trimmer； and then a full…fledged
fireman； he had reached the top of his life。
And in the course of this he had also hammered out a philosophy of
life； an ugly and repulsive philosophy； but withal a very logical and
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sensible one from his point of view。 When I asked him what he lived for；
he immediately answered； 〃Booze。〃 A voyage to sea （for a man must
live and get the wherewithal）； and then the paying off and the big drunk at
the end。 After that； haphazard little drunks； sponged in the 〃pubs〃 from
mates with a few coppers left； like myself； and when sponging was played
out another trip to sea and a repetition of the beastly cycle。
〃But women；〃 I suggested； when he had finished proclaiming booze
the sole end of existence。
〃Wimmen！〃 He thumped his pot upon the bar and orated eloquently。
〃Wimmen is a thing my edication 'as learnt me t' let alone。 It don't pay；
matey； it don't pay。 Wot's a man like me want o' wimmen； eh？ jest you
tell me。 There was my mar； she was enough； a…bangin' the kids about an'
makin' the ole man mis'rable when 'e come 'ome； w'ich was seldom； I
grant。 An' fer w'y？ Becos o' mar！ She didn't make 'is 'ome 'appy； that
was w'y。 Then； there's the other wimmen； 'ow do they treat a pore stoker
with a few shillin's in 'is trouseys？ A good drunk is wot 'e's got in 'is
pockits； a good long drunk； an' the wimmen skin 'im out of his money so
quick 'e ain't 'ad 'ardly a glass。 I know。 I've 'ad my fling； an' I know
wot's wot。 An' I tell you； where's wimmen is troublescreechin' an'
carryin' on； fightin'； cuttin'； bobbies； magistrates； an' a month's 'ard labour
back of it all； an' no pay…day when you come out。〃
〃But a wife and children；〃 I insisted。 〃A home of your own； and all
that。 Think of it； back from a voyage； little children climbing on your
knee； and the wife happy and smiling； and a kiss for you when she lays the
table； and a kiss all round from the babies when they go to bed； and the
kettle singing and the long talk afterwards of where you've been and what
you've seen； and of her and all the little happenings at home while you've
been away； and〃
〃Garn！〃 he cried； with a playful shove of his fist on my shoulder。
〃Wot's yer game； eh？ A missus kissin' an' kids clim'in'； an' kettle singin'；
all on four poun' ten a month w'en you 'ave a ship； an' four nothin' w'en
you 'aven't。 I'll tell you wot I'd get on four poun' tena missus rowin'；
kids squallin'； no coal t' make the kettle sing； an' the kettle up the spout；
that's wot I'd get。 Enough t' make a bloke bloomin' well glad to be back t'
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THE PEOPLE OF THE ABYSS
sea。 A missus！ Wot for？ T' make you mis'rable？ Kids？ Jest take
my counsel； matey； an' don't 'ave 'em。 Look at me！ I can 'ave my beer
w'en I like； an' no blessed missus an' kids a…crying for bread。 I'm 'appy； I
am； with my beer an' mates like you； an' a good ship comin'； an' another
trip to sea。 So I say； let's 'ave another pint。 Arf an' arf's good enough for
me。〃
Without going further with the speech of this young fellow of two…
and…twenty； I think I have sufficiently indicated his philosophy of life and
the underlying economic reason for it。 Home life he had never known。
The word 〃home〃 aroused nothing but unpleasant associations。 In the
low wages of his father； and of other men in the same walk in life； he
found sufficient reason for branding wife and children as encumbrances
and causes of masculine misery。 An unconscious hedonist； utterly
unmoral and materialistic； he sought the greatest possible happiness for
himself； and found it in drink。
A young sot； a premature wreck； physical inability to do a stoker's
work； the gutter or the workhouse； and the endhe saw it all as clearly as I；
but it held no terrors for him。 From the moment of his birth； all the
forces of his environment had tended to harden him； and he viewed his
wretched； inevitable future with a callousness and unconcern I could not
shake。
And yet he was not a bad man。 He was not inherently vicious and
brutal。 He had normal mentality； and a more than average physique。 His
eyes were blue and round； shaded by long lashes； and wide apart。 And
there was a laugh in them； and a fund of humour behind。 The brow and
general features were good； the mouth and lips sweet； though already
developing a harsh twist。 The chin was weak； but not too weak； I have
seen men sitting in the high places with weaker。
His head was shapely； and so gracefully was it poised upon a perfect
neck that I was not surprised by his body that night when he stripped for
bed。 I have seen many men strip； in gymnasium and training quarters；
men of good blood and upbringing； but I have never seen one who
stripped to better advantage than this young sot of two…and…twenty； this
young god doomed to rack and ruin in four or five short years； and to pass
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hence without posterity to receive the splendid heritage it was his to
bequeath。
It seemed sacrilege to waste such life； and yet I was forced to confess
that he was right in not marrying on four pounds ten in London Town。
Just as the scene…shifter was happier in making both ends meet in a room
shared with two other men； than he would have been had he packed a
feeble family along with a couple of men into a cheaper room； and failed
in making both ends meet。
And day by day I became convinced that not only is it unwise； but it is
criminal for the people of the Abyss to marry。 They are the stones by the
builder rejected。 There is no place for them； in the social fabric； while all
the forces of society drive them downward till they perish。 At the bottom
of the Abyss they are feeble； besotted； and imbecile。 If they reproduce；
the life is so cheap that perforce it perishes of itself。 The work of the
world goes on above them； and they do not care to take part in it； nor are
they able。 Moreover； the work of the world does not need them。 There
are plenty； far fitter than they； clinging to the steep slope above； and
struggling frantically to slide no more。
In short； the London Abyss is a vast shambles。 Year by year； and