he had to work all the time in his
wet clothes and boots, which were usually old and out of repair and let
in the water.

One of the worst jobs that he had to do was when a new stock of white
lead came in. This stuff came in wooden barrels containing two
hundredweight, and he used to have to dig it out of these barrels with
a trowel, and put it into a metal tank, where it was kept covered with
water, and the empty barrels were returned to the makers.

When he was doing this work he usually managed to get himself smeared
all over with the white lead, and this circumstance, and the fact that
he was always handling paint or some poisonous material or other was
doubtless the cause of the terrible pains he often had in his
stomach--pains that sometimes caused him to throw himself down and roll
on the ground in agony.

One afternoon Crass sent him with a handcart to a job that Easton,
Philpot, Harlow and Owen were just finishing. He got there about half
past four and helped the men to load up the things, and afterwards
walked alongside the cart with them back to the shop.

On the way they all noticed and remarked to each other that the boy
looked tired and pale and that he seemed to limp: but he did not say
anything, although be guessed that they were talking about him. They
arrived at the shop a little before knocking-off time--about ten
minutes past five. Bert helped them to unload, and afterwards, while
they were putting their things away and 'charging up' the unused
materials they had brought back, he pushed the cart over to the shed
where it was kept, on the other side of the yard. He did not return to
the shop at once and a few minutes later when Harlow came out into the
yard to get a bucket of water to wash their hands with, he saw the boy
leaning on the side of the cart, crying, and holding one foot off the
ground.

Harlow asked him what was the matter, and while he was speaking to him
the others came out to see what was up: the boy said he had rheumatism
or growing pains or something in his leg, 'just here near the knee'.
But he didn't say much, he just cried miserably, and turned his head
slowly from side to side, avoiding the looks of the men because he felt
ashamed that they should see him cry.

When they saw how ill and miserable he looked, the men all put their
hands in their pockets to get some coppers to give to him so that he
could ride home on the tram. They gave him fivepence altogether, more