MORNING SERIAL
“SOMETIMES, like this morning for instance, I lose my temper, and the bullying and ragging gets me into such a state of mind that I could cheerfully thrash those who made you suffer. That’s wrong of me, Ieuan, to lose my temper. But it’s so easy to talk, isn’t it? After all, a man is only human, and often patience and understanding go overboard.”
A gust of wind whirled up the yard. Frank shivered and blew into his hands. He turned up his coat collar.
“This place does things to one,” he continued, rubbing his hands vigorously. “I know the cause of Bull’s and the other fellows’ hooliganism. I’ve explained it all to you. And yet, at the moment when I should realise it most, I forget. A man works hard, and there is little rest. What leisure we get is no real leisure at all, for even in the hours after work is finished we know that the next day we have to return to the treadmill again.
“And there’s sickness, unemployment, the worry of making ends meet. Jesus God! No wonder a man becomes bitter, Ieuan. Naturally, someone must work in the foundries, the mines, the steelworks, the tinplate mills and all the other places in industry, but conditions in these places must be changed. Industry should be made more attractive. Men should work less hours and get better pay. Then, and then only, will they change.
“Look at me, boy. Do you think I wanted to be a moulder? And young Thomas – he was a grand little scholar, so I’ve been told. He would have gone to the County, just like you, and it’s probable that he would have made good progress there. But – well, I’ve told you all I can, Ieuan.
“Whenever you feel that your little world has tumbled down before your eyes, just throw your mind back to this moment, and remember what I’ve told you.”
Frank puffed. He tapped his chest and grinned.
“Whew! That certainly was a long speech, Ieuan. Crikey! It’s a Member of Parliament I ought to be. I’d do well in the gasworks, wouldn’t I?”
He chuckled to himself. “Reminds me of that MP from Pantyrheol. We used to call him the ‘silent Member.’ He sat in the Commons for ten years, and the only words he ever spoke in the House were: ‘Please shut the windows. There’s a draught.’ Well, come along, Ieuan. Let’s go, or the men’ll think we’ve planted our roots here.”