to explain:
"If it was with rum, that makes matters worse, because it
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costs more. In court they reckon up every item, and add them together, so as to make the most of it."
"In court . . ." whispered the conscientious family man dejectedly, and hanging his head he lapsed into that unpleasant state of mind when a man is gnawed by his conscience.
"And do they know at home," asked Schweik, "that you've been locked up, or are they waiting till it gets into the papers?"
"You think it'll be in the papers?" guilelessly inquired the victim of his manager's birthday.
"It's a dead certainty," was the downright answer, for it was not Schweik's way to hide anything from his fellow-men. "This prank of yours is going to be a fair treat for newspaper readers. I myself like reading the drunk-and-disorderly bits. Not long ago at The Flagon there was a customer who smashed a glass with his head. He chucked it up into the air and then stood underneath it. They ran him in, and on the very next morning we read about it in the papers. Another time I gave an undertaker's mute a smack in the eye and he gave me one in return. To stop the row they had to run us both in, and the afternoon editions had all about it. Another time at The Dead Man there was a councillor who smashed two glasses. Do you think they hushed it up? Not they—the next day it was reported in all the papers. All you can do us to send from prison a letter to the newspapers saying that the report published about you doesn't refer to you and that you're no relation of the person of that name and have no connection with him. Then you must write home to tell them to cut your letter out of the paper and keep it, so that you can read it when they let you out of quod."
Noticing that the man of intelligence was shivering, Schweik asked, full of concern :
"Do you feel cold?"
"It's all up with me," sobbed Schweik's companion. "I've got no chance of promotion now."
"That you haven't," agreed Schweik readily, "and if they don't take you back at the office when you've served your sentence, I bet it won't be easy for you to find another job. Whatever job it is, even if you wanted to work as a knacker's assistant, you'd have to show them some testimonials. Ah, that little spree
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of yours is going to be an expensive business ! And what's yourwife and children going to live on while you're doing time?"
The man sobbed :
"My poor children, my poor wife !"
Then the wayward penitent stood up and started talking about his children. There were five of them ; the eldest was twelve and he was a boy scout. He drank nothing but water and he ought to have been an example to his father who for the first time in his life had been guilty of such shocking conduct.
"A boy scout!" exclaimed Schweik. "I like hearing about boy scouts. Once when I was in camp for my annual training with the 91st the local farmers started chivvying some boy scouts in the woods where there was regular swarms of them. They collared three. When they were tying up the smallest of the lot, he kicked up such a hullabaloo, bellowing and snivelling so much that we hardened veterans couldn't stand the sight of it and we made ourselves scarce. While these three scouts was being tied up, they managed to bite eight of the farmers. Afterward in their den in the woods they found piles and piles of gnawed bones of poultry and game, a whole lot of cherry stones, bushels of unripe apple cores and other titbits like that."
But the boy scout's unhappy father was not to be comforted.
"What have I done?" he wailed. "My reputation's ruined."
"That it is," said Schweik, with his native frankness, "after what's happened you're bound to have a ruined reputation for the rest of your life, because when your friends read about it in the papers, they'll add to it. That's the way it always happens, but don't you take it to heart. There's at least ten times more people with ruined and damaged reputations than those with a clean record.