1 My First Job When I reached the age of twelve I left the school for ever and got my first fulltime job, as a grocer’s boy. I spent my days carrying heavy loads, but I enjoyed it. It was only my capacity for hard work that saved me from early dismissal, for I could never stomach speaking to my “betters” with the deference my employer thought I should assume. But the limit was reached one Tuesday — my half holiday. On my way home on that day I used to carry a large basket of provisions to the home of my employer’s sister-in-law. As her house was on my way home I never objected to this. On this particular Tuesday, however, just as we were putting the shutters up, a load of smoked hams was delivered at the shop. “Wait a minute,” said the boss, and he opened the load and took out a ham, which he started to bone and string up. I waited in growing impatience to get on my way, not for one minute but for a quite a considerable time. It was nearly half-past two when the boss finished. He then came to me with the ham, put it in the basket beside me, and instructed me to deliver it to a customer who had it on order. This meant going a long way out of my road home, so I looked up and said to the boss: “Do you know I finish at two on Tuesday?” I have never seen a man look more astonished than he did then. “What do you mean?” he gasped. I told him I meant that I would deliver the groceries as usual, but not the ham. He looked at me as if I were some unusual kind f insect and burst into a storm of abuse. But I stood firm. He gave me up as hopeless and tried new tactics. “Go out and get another boy,” he yelled at a shop-assistant. “Are ...
