"If," said
Mr Larkins, for this was my tailor's name, "he had begun at fourteen, it
might have done, but no man of twenty-four could stand being turned to
work into a workshop full of tailors; he would not get on with the men,
nor the men with him; you could not expect him to be 'hail fellow, well
met' with them, and you could not expect his fellow-workmen to like him
if he was not. A man must have sunk low through drink or natural taste
for low company, before he could get on with those who have had such a
different training from his own."
Mr Larkins said a great deal more and wound up by taking me to see the
place where his own men worked. "This is a paradise," he said, "compared
to most workshops. What gentleman could stand this air, think you, for a
fortnight?"
I was glad enough to get out of the hot, fetid atmosphere in five
minutes, and saw that there was no brick of Ernest's prison to be
loosened by going and working among tailors in a workshop.
Mr Larkins wound up by saying that even if my _protege_ were a much
better workman than he probably was, no master would give him employment,
for fear of creating a bother among the men.
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