He made no remark, but
hastily explained that he had been told that there was a party just that
minute gone on in front of them, and they were to catch them up.
'This way, then,' she said, pointing to a big archway.
'Oh, I can't run; don't be in such a hurry,' said Mr. Lennox, panting.
Kate laughed, and admitted that the heat was great. Out of a sky burnt
almost to white the glare descended into the narrow brick-yards. The
packing straw seemed ready to catch fire; the heaps of wet clay, which two
boys were shovelling, smoked, emitting as it did so an unpleasant wet
odour. On passing the archway they caught sight of three black coats and
three soft hats like the one Mr. Lennox wore.
'Oh!' said Kate, stopping, disappointed, 'we'll have to go round with those
clergymen.'
'What does that matter? It will be amusing to listen to them.'
'But mother knows all of them.'
'They must be strangers in the town or they wouldn't be visiting the
potteries, surely.'
'I hadn't thought of that; I suppose you're right,' and hastening a little,
they overtook the party that was being shown round. The Dissenting
clergymen looked askance at Mr. Lennox, and as he showed them into a small
white cell the guide said, 'You're in plenty of time, sir; these are the
snagger-makers.'
Two men were beating a heap of wet clay in order to insure a something in
the bakery which nobody understood, but which the guide took some trouble
to explain. The clergymen pressed forward to listen. Mr. Lennox wiped his
face, and they were then hurried into a second cell, where unbaked dishes
were piled all around upon shelves. It was said to be the dishmakers'
place, and was followed by another and another room, all of which Mr.
Lennox thought equally hot and uninteresting. He strove to escape from the
guide, who drew him through the line of clergymen and made plain to him the
mysteries of earthenware.
At last these preliminary departments were disposed of, and they were led
to another part of the works. On their way thither they passed the ovens.
These were scattered over the ground like beehives in a garden. Lennox
patted their round sides, approvingly saying that they reminded him of
oyster boys in a pantomime, and might be introduced into the next Christmas
show. Kate looked at him, her eyes full of wonder. She could not understand
how he could think of such things.
In the printing-room they listened to the guide, who apparently considered
it important that clergymen, actor, and dressmaker should understand the
different processes the earthenware had to pass through before it was
placed on toilet or breakfast table. Smoking flannels hung on lines all
around, and like laundresses at their tubs, four or five women washed the
printed paper from the plates. A man in a paper cap bent over a stove, and
as if dissatisfied with the guide's explanation of his work, broke out into
a wearisome flow of technical details. At the other end of this vast
workroom there was a line of young girls who cut the printed matter out of
sheets of paper, the scissors running in and out of flowers, tendrils, and
little birds without ever injuring one. The clergymen watched the process,
delighted, while Lennox stepped behind Kate and whispered that he had just
caught the tall Dissenter winking at the dark girl on the right, which was
not true, and was invented for the sake of the opportunity it gave him of
breathing on Kate's neck—a lead up to the love-scene which he had now
decided was to come off as soon as he should find himself alone with her.
They passed through a brick alley with a staircase leading to a platform
built like a ship's deck, and went on through a series of rooms till they
came to a place almost as hot as a Turkish bath, filled with unbaked plates
and dishes. The smell of wet clay drying in steam diffused from underneath
was very unpleasant, and caused one of the ministers to cough violently,
whereupon the guide explained that the platemakers' departments were
considered the most unhealthy of any in the works; the people who worked
there, he said, usually suffered from what is known as the potter's asthma.
This interested Kate, and she delayed the guide with questions as to how
the potter's asthma differed from the ordinary form of the disease, and
when their little procession was again put in motion she told Mr. Lennox
how her husband was affected, and the nights she had spent watching at his
side. But although Lennox listened attentively, she could not help thinking
that he seemed rather glad than otherwise that her husband was an invalid.
The unkind way in which he spoke of sick people shocked her, and she
opposed the opinion that a person in bad health was a disgusting object,
while Lennox took advantage of the occasion to whisper into her ears that
she was far too pretty a woman for an asthmatic husband; and, encouraged by
her blushes, he even hazarded a few coarse jokes anent the poor husband's
deficiencies. How could a man kiss if he couldn't breathe, for if there was
a time when breath was essential, according to him, it was when four lips
meet.
No one had ever spoken to her in this way before, and had she known how to
do so she would have resented his familiarities. Once their hands met. The
contact caused her a thrill; she put aside the unbaked plate they were
examining and said: 'We'd better make haste or we shall lose them.'
The next two rooms were considered the most interesting they had been
through; even the three clergymen lost something of their stolid manner and
asked Lennox his opinion regarding the religious character of Hanley, and
if he were of their persuasion.
'What is that?' asked Lennox, affecting a comic innocence which he hoped
would tickle Kate's fancy.
'We're Wesleyans,' said the minister.
'And I'm an actor; but, I beg your pardon, stage-managing's more my
business,' news that seemed to cast a gloom over the faces of the
ministers; and leaving them to make what they could of his reply, he drew
Kate forward confidentially and pointed to an old man sitting
straddle-legged on a high narrow table just on a line with the window. He
was covered with clay; his forehead and beard were plastered with it, and
before him was an iron plate, kept continually whirling by steam, which he
could stop by a pressure of his foot. He squeezed a lump of clay into a
long shape not unlike a tall ice, then, forcing it down into the shape of a
batter-pudding, he hollowed it. Round and round went the clay, the hands
forming it all the while, cleaning and smoothing until it came out a true
and perfect jampot, even to the little furrow round the top, which was
given by a movement of the thumbs.
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