From the moral point of view, however, the wakeful ones were more dreadful still. Towzled, dirty, villainous, they squatted up in their beds, and smoked foul pipes, and sang snatches of horrible songs, and bandied jokes so obscene as to be absolutely appalling. Eight or ten were so enjoying themselves—the majority with the check shirt on and the frowsy rug pulled about their legs; but two or three wore no shirts at all, squatting naked to the waist, their bodies fully exposed in the light of the single flaring jet of gas fixed high upon the wall.
My entrance excited very little attention. There was a horse-pail three parts full of water standing by a post in the middle of the shed, with a little tin pot beside it. Addressing me as 'old pal', one of the naked ruffians begged me to 'hand him a swig', as he was 'werry nigh garspin.' Such an appeal of course no 'old pal' could withstand, and I gave him a pot full of water. He showed himself grateful for the attention. I should lay over there if I was you,' he said, pointing to the left side of the shed; 'it's more out of the wind than this 'ere side is.' I took the good-natured advice and (by this time shivering with cold) stepped over the stones to where the beds or straw bags were heaped, and dragged one of them to the spot suggested by my comrade. But I had no more idea of how to arrange it than of making an apple-pudding, and a certain little discovery added much to my embarrassment. In the middle of the bed I had selected was a stain of blood bigger than a man's hand! I did not know what to do now. To lie on such a horrid thing seemed impossible; yet to carry back the bed and exchange it for another might betray a degree of fastidiousness repugnant to the feelings of my fellow lodgers and possibly excite suspicions that I was not what I seemed. Just in the nick of time in came that good man Daddy.
'What! not pitched yet?' he exclaimed; 'here, I'll show you. Hallo! somebody's been bleedin'! Never mind; let's turn him over. There you are you see! Now lay down, and cover your rug over you.'
There was no help for it. It was too late to go back. Down I lay, and spread the rug over me. I should have mentioned that I brought in with me a cotton handkerchief, and this I tied round my head by way of a nightcap; but not daring to pull the rug as high as my face. Before I could in any way settle my mind to reflection, in came Daddy once more to do me a further kindness, and point out a stupid blunder I had committed.
'Why, you are a rummy chap!' said Daddy. 'You forgot your bread! Lay hold. And look here, I've brought you another rug; it's perishing cold to-night.'
So saying, he spread the rug over my legs and went away. I was very thankful for the extra covering, but I was in a dilemma about the bread. I couldn't possibly eat it; what then was to be done with it? I broke it, however, and in view of such of the company as might happen to be looking made a ferocious bite at a bit as large as a bean, and munched violently.
By good luck, however, I presently got half-way over my difficulty very neatly. Just behind me, so close indeed that their feet came within half a yard of my head, three lads were sleeping together.
'Did you ear that, Punch?' one of them asked.
'Ear what?' answered Punch, sleepy and snappish.
'Why, a cove forgot his toke! Gordstruth! you wouldn't ketch me a forgettin mine.'
'You may have half of it, old pal, if you're hungry.' I observed, leaning up on my elbows.
'Chuck it here, good luck to yer!' replied my young friend, starting up with an eager clap of his dirty hands.
I 'chucked it here', and, slipping the other half under the side of my bed, lay my head on my folded arms.
It was about half-past 9 when, having made myself as comfortable as circumstances permitted, I closed my eyes in the desperate hope that I might fall asleep, and so escape from the horrors with which I was surrounded. 'At 7 tomorrow morning the bell will ring,' Daddy had informed me, 'and then you will give up your ticket and get back your bundle.' Between that time and the present full nine long hours had to wear away.
But I was speedily convinced that, at least for the present, sleep was impossible. The young fellow (one of the three who lay in one bed, with their feet to my head) whom my bread had refreshed, presently swore with frightful imprecations that he was now going to have a smoke; and immediately put his threat into execution. Thereupon his bedfellows sat up and lit their pipes too. But oh! if they had only smoked—if they had not taken such an unfortunate fancy to spit at the leg of a crank distant a few inches from my head, how much misery and apprehension would have been spared me! To make matters worse, they united with this American practice an Eastern one; as they smoked they related little autobiographical anecdotes—so abominable that three or four decent men who lay at the farther end of the shed were so provoked that they threatened that unless the talk abated in filthiness, to get up and stop it by main force. Instantly, the voice of every blackguard in the room was raised against the decent ones. They were accused of loathsome afflictions, stigmatized as 'fighting men out of work' (which must be something very humiliating, I suppose), and invited to 'a round' by boys young enough to be their grandsons. For several minutes there was such a storm of oaths, threats, and taunts—such a deluge of foul words raged in the room—that I could not help thinking of the fate of Sodom; as, indeed I did, several times during the night. Little by little the riot died out, without any the slightest interference on the part of the officers.
Soon afterwards the ruffian majority was strengthened by the arrival of a lanky boy of about 15, who evidently recognized many acquaintances, and was recognized by them as 'Kay', or perhaps I should write it 'K'. He was a very remarkable-looking lad, and his appearance pleased me much. Short as his hair was cropped, it still looked soft and silky; he had large blue eyes set wide apart, and a mouth that would have been faultless but for its great width; and his voice was as soft and sweet as any woman's. Lightly as a woman, too, he picked his way over the stones towards the place where the beds lay, carefully hugging his cap beneath his arm.
'What cheer, Kay?' 'Out again, then, old son!' 'What yer got in yer cap, Kay?' cried his friends; to which the sweet voice replied, 'Who'll give me part of his doss (bed)?—my—eyes and limbs if I ain't perishin! Who'll let me turn in with him for half my toke' (bread)? I feared how it would be! The hungry young fellow who had so readily availed himself of half my 'toke' snapped at Kay's offer, and after a little rearrangement and bed-making four young fellows instead of three reposed upon the hay-bags at my head.