CHANGE OF WORK

"Paintin' 'as its points," Bindle would remark, "that is, providin' it
ain't outdoor paintin', when you're either on top of a ladder, which
may be swep' from under yer and bang yer goes to Kingdom Come, or else
you're 'angin' like a bally worm on an 'ook."

In the spring when moving was slack, Bindle invariably found a job as a
painter. It was shortly after his encounter with Professor Conti that
he heard hands were wanted at the Splendid Hotel, where a permanent
staff of painters and decorators was kept. It was the pride of the
management to keep the hotel spotless, and as it was always full, to
give a wing bodily over to the painters and decorators would mean a
considerable loss of revenue. Consequently all the work of renovation
was done during the night.

The insides of the bedrooms were completely redecorated within the
space of twenty-four hours. All corridors and common-rooms were done
between midnight and the hot-water hour, special quick-drying materials
being used; but most important of all was the silence of the workers.

"The bloomin' miracles," Bindle called the little army that transformed
the place in the course of a few hours.

When first told of the system he had been incredulous, and on applying
for a job to the foreman in charge he remarked:

"I've 'eard tell of dumb dawgs, mebbe it's true, and dumb waiters; but
dumb painters--I won't believe it--it ain't natural."

The foreman had eyed him deliberately; then in a contemptuous tone,
remarked:

"If you get this job you've got to go without winkin' or breathin' in
case you make a noise. If you want to cough you've got to choke; if
you want to sneeze you've got to bust instead. You'll get to like it
in time."

"Sounds pleasant," remarked Bindle drily; "still, I'll join," he added
with decision, "though it's like bein' a night-watchman in a museum."

The hours were awkward and the restrictions severe, but the pay was
good, and Bindle had in his mind's eye the irate form of Mrs. Bindle
with her inevitable interrogation, "Got a job?"

"You starts at eleven p.m.," proceeded the foreman, "and you leaves off
at eight next mornin'--if you're lucky. If y'ain't you gets the sack,
and leaves all the same."

At first Bindle found the work inexpressibly dreary. To be within a
few yards of a fellow-creature and debarred from speaking to him was an
entirely new experience. Time after time he was on the point of
venturing some co