the iron puddler-第10章

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　or　the　state　will　fall。

I　put　the　good　nails　into　kegs；　and　the　headless　nails　and　splinters　were　sent　back　to　be　melted　into　window　weights。　Handling　sharp　nails　is　hard　on　the　hands。　And　the　big　half…　dollar　that　I　earned　was　not　unmarred　with　blood。　Every　pay…day　I　took　home　my　entire　earnings　and　gave　them　to　mother。　All　my　brothers　did　the　same。　Mother　paid　the　household　expenses；　bought　our　clothing　and　allotted　us　spending　money　and　money　for　Sunday…　school。

This　is　a　cynical　age　and　I　can　imagine　that　I　hear　somebody　snicker　when　I　confess　the　fondness　I　had　for　the　Sunday…school。　I　don't　want　any　one　to　think　I　am　laying　claim　to　the　record　of　having　always　been　a　good　little　boy；　nor　that　everything　I　did　was　wise。　No；　I　confess　I　did　my　share　of　deviltry；　that　some　of　my　deeds　were　foolish；　and　（to　use　the　slang　of　that　time）　I　often　got　it　in　the　neck。　Once　I　bantered　a　big　fat　boy　to　a　fight。　He　chased　me　and　I　ran　and　crawled　into　a　place　so　narrow　that　I　knew　he　couldn't　follow　me。　I　crawled　under　the　floor　of　a　shed　that　was　only　about　six　inches　above　the　ground。　Fatty　was　at　least　ten　inches　thick　and　I　thought　I　was　safe。　But　he　didn't　try　to　crawl　under　the　floor　after　me。　He　went　inside　the　shed　and　found　that　the　boards　of　the　floor　sank　beneath　his　weight　like　spring　boards。　And　there　that　human　hippopotamus　stood　jumping　up　and　down　while　he　mashed　me　into　the　mud　like　a　mole　under　a　pile…driver。　I　had　showed　that　I　had　〃a　head　on　me　like　a　nail〃　when　I　crawled　under　that　floor　and　let　Fatty　step　on　me。　There　is　a　saying；　〃You　can't　keep　a　good　man　down。〃　But　Fatty　kept　me　down；　and　so　I　must　admit　he　was　a　better　man　than　I　was。　Some　people　say　you　should　cheer　for　the　under…dog。　But　that　isn't　always　fair。　The　under…dog　deserves　our　sympathy；　the　upper…dog　must　be　a　better　dog　or　he　couldn't　have　put　the　other　dog　down。　I　give　three　cheers　for　the　winner。　Any　tribe　that　adopts　the　rule　of　always　hissing　the　winner　has　found　a　real　way　to　discourage　enterprise。

I　owned　a　part　interest　in　some　pigeons　with　a　boy　named　Jack　Thomas。　The　pigeons'　nests　were　in　Jack's　back　yard。　He　told　me　that　my　share　of　the　eggs　had　rotted　and　his　share　had　hatched；　so　that　my　interest　in　the　young　pigeons　had　died　out　and　they　were　all　his　now。　I　was　sure　it　was　a　quibble　and　that　he　was　cheating　me。　It　made　me　mad　and　I　sneaked　up　to　the　pigeon　loft　and　put　a　tiny　pin　prick　in　all　the　eggs　in　the　nests。　This　was　invisible　but　it　caused　the　eggs　to　rot　as　he　said　mine　had；　and　I　felt　that　this　was　only　justice。　Turn　about　is　fair　play。

When　Jack's　eggs　didn't　hatch　he　suspected　me；　for　I　had　been　so　foolish　as　to　predict　that　his　eggs　wouldn't　hatch。　And　so　he　was　sure　I　was　responsible；　although　he　didn't　know　how。　In　fact　his　mother　had　seen　me　enter　the　barn　and　had　told　Jack　about　it。　One　day　when　I　went　to　the　pasture　to　get　the　hotel　keeper's　cows；　I　ran　into　Jack　hunting　ground　squirrels　with　his　dog。　He　set　his　dog　chasing　the　cows　and　then　ran　away　out　of　my　reach。　The　dog　yelped　at　the　cows　heels　and　they　galloped　about　the　pasture　in　a　panic。　I　shouted　to　Jack　to　call　off　his　dog　or　there　would　be　trouble　the　next　time　I　met　him。　But　Jack；　who　was　out　of　reach；　shouted　encouragement　instead。　Round　and　round　the　cattle　raced　with　that　howling　dog　scaring　them　into　fits。　At　last　the　dog　tired　of　the　fun　and　trotted　off　to　join　Jack；　who　was　disappearing　over　the　hill。　I　then　tried　to　round　up　the　cows　and　get　them　out　of　the　pasture。　But　the　brutes　were　wet　with　sweat　and　as　wild　as　deer。　I　saw　that　they　could　not　be　milked　in　that　condition　and　felt　that　Jack's　conduct　was　outrageous。　He　had　not　only　made　trouble　for　me；　he　had　injured　the　hotel　keeper。　There　would　be　no　milk　that　night　fit　to　be　used。

I　started　straight　for　Jack's　home　to　tell　his　mother　of　his　lawless　act。　As　I　went　along；　I　turned　the　case　over　in　my　mind；　and　the　case　grew　stronger　and　stronger　all　the　time。　Before　I　reached　Jack's　door　I　had；　satisfied　myself　that　his　mother　would　be　shocked　at　the　news　and　would　at　once　cut　a　big　switch　to　give　Jack　the　licking　he　deserved。

But　when　I　began　to　tell　Mrs。　Thomas　of　her　son's　crime；　she　sided　with　Jack　and　wouldn't　listen　to　me。　〃Don't　come　to　me　with　your　troubles；　you　nasty　little　whiffet；〃　she　cried。　〃You　started　the　whole　thing　when　you　sneaked　in　and　ruined　Jack's　pigeon　eggs。　Now　that　you've　got　the　worst　of　it　you　come　here　with　your　tattle…tales。　You　ought　to　be　ashamed　to　show　your　face〃　She　had　become　so　threatening　that　I　turned　and　ran。　My　whole　case　had　gone　to　pieces　on　her　sharp　tongue　like　a　toy　balloon　pricked　with　a　pin。　I　had　been　blowing　it　up　until　it　got　so　big　I　couldn't　see　anything　else。　It　burst　right　in　my　face；　and　there　wasn't　even　a　scrap　of　rubber　to　tell　where　it　had　been。

This　taught　me　one　of　the　best　lessons　I　ever　learned。　By　looking　only　at　his　side　of　a　case　a　man　can　kid　himself　into　thinking　that　he　is　wholly　right；　that　his　cause　is　greater　than　himself　and　represents　the　rights　of　the　entire　community。　But　a　counter…blast　from　the　other　side　will　deflate　his　balloon　in　a　second　and　he'll　come　down　to　earth　without　even　a　parachute　to　soften　the　jolt　when　he　lands。

I　learned　that　blood　is　not　only　thicker　than　water；　but　it　is　thicker　than　curdled　milk；　and　you　can't　line　up　a　mother　against　her　own　child　even　if　he　chased　the　cows　until　they　got　so　wild　they　gave　strawberry　pop　instead　of　milk。　Any　argument　that　goes　contrary　to　human　nature　has　struck　a　snag　before　it　is　started。　A　man　must　come　into　court　with　clean　hands。　I　had　started　by　rotting　the　other　fellow's　eggs　and　he　finished　by　souring　my　milk。　I　wanted　justice　and　I　got　it；　but　I　didn't　recognize　it　when　it　landed　on　me　with　all　four　feet。　Chickens　come　home　to　roost；　and　my　pigeons　had　found　a　nesting…place　on　my　anatomy；　and　the　spot　they　had　chosen　was　right　in　the　neck。



CHAPTER　XIII

SCENE　IN　A　ROLLING　MILL


The　rolling　mill　where　father　worked　was　Life's　Big　Circus　tent　to　me；　and　like　a　kid　escaped　from　school；　eager　to　get　past　the　tent　flap　and　mingle　with　the　clowns　and　elephants；　I　chucked　my　job　sorting　nails　when　I　found　an　opening　for　a　youngster　in　the　rolling　mill。　Every　puddler　has　a　helper。　Old　men　have　both　a　helper　and　a　boy。　I　got　a　place　with　an　old　man；　and　so　at　the　age　of　twelve　I　was　part　of　the　Big　Show　whose　performance　is　continuous；　whose　fire…eaters　have　real　flame　to　contend　with；　and　whose　snake…charmers　risk　their　lives　in　handling　great　hissing；　twisting　red…hot　serpents　of　angry　iron。

In　this　mill　there　is　a　constant　din　by　day　and　night。　Patches　of　white　heat　glare　from　the　opened　furnace　doors　like　the　teeth　of　some　great　dark；　dingy　devil　grinning　across　the　smoky　vapors　of　the　Pit。　Half　naked；　soot…smeared　fellows　fight　the　furnace　hearths　with　hooks；　rabbles　and　paddles。　Their　scowling　faces　are　lit　with　fire；　like　sailors　manning　their　guns　in　a　night　fight　when　a　blazing　fire　ship　is　bearing　down　upon　them。　The　sweat　runs　down　their　backs　and　arms　and　glistens　in　the　changing　lights。　Brilliant　blues　and　rays　of　green　and　bronze　come　from　the　coruscating　metal；　molten　yet　crystallizing　into　white…hot　frost　within　the　furnace　puddle。　Flaming　balls　of　woolly　iron　are　pulled　from　the　oven　doors；　flung　on　a　two…wheeled　serving　tray；　and　rushed　sputtering　and　flamboyant　to　the　hungry　mouth　of　a　machine；　which　rolls　them　upon　its　tongue　and　squeezes　them　in　its　jaw　like　a　cow　mulling　over　her　cud。　The　molten　slag　runs　down　red…hot　from　the　jaws　of　this　squeezer　and　makes　a　luminous　rivulet　on　the　floor　like　the　water　from　the　rubber　rollers　when　a　washer…woman　wrings　out　the　saturated　clothes。　Squeezed　dry　of　its　luminous　lava；　the　white…hot　sponge　is　drawn　with　tongs　to　the　waiting　rollerswhirling　anvils　that　beat　it　into　the　shape　they　will。　Everywhere　are　hurrying　men；　whirring　flywheels；　moving　levers　of　steam　engines　and　the　drum…like　roar　of　the　rolling　machines；　while　here　and　there　the　fruits　of　this　toil　are　seen　as　three　or　four　fiery　serpents　shoot　forth　from　different　trains　of　rollers；　and　are　carried　away；　wrought　iron　fit　for　bridging　the　creek；　shoeing　the　mule　and　hooping　the　barrel　that　brings　the　fa