the iron puddler-第17章

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ing　banishes　all　selfish　thoughts　from　mind；　and　gives　the　voice　of　conscience　a　chance　to　be　heard。　I　pray　for　a　higher　moral　sense；　that　which　lifts　man　above　beasts；　and　when　my　answer　comes　and　I　feel　morally　right；　then　all　hell　can't　make　me　knuckle　under。　For　civilization　is　built　on　man's　morals　not　on　brute　force　（as　Germany　learned　to　her　sorrow）；　and　I　fight　for　the　moral　law　as　long　as　there　is　any　fight　left　in　me。

Nature　planned　that　when　the　cat　ate　the　mother　robin；　the　young　robins　in　the　nest　must　starve。　Nature　had　other　robins　that　would　escape　the　enemy。　But　among　men　it　is　wrong　for　the　little　ones　to　suffer　when　the　hand　that　feeds　them　is　destroyed。　For　man　has　sympathy；　which　beasts　have　not。　Sympathy　is　the　iron　fiber　in　man　that　welds　him　to　his　fellows。　Envy　is　the　sulphur　that　pollutes　these　bonds　and　makes　them　brittle。　Suppose　some　master　puddler　of　humanity　could　gather　thousands　of　men　into　a　melting…pot；　a　fraternity　whose　purpose　was　to　boil　out　the　envy；　greed　and　malice　as　much　as　possible；　and　purify　the　good　metal　of　human　sympathy。　How　much　greater　the　social　value　of　these　men　would　be。　Bound　together　by　good　fellowship　and　human　sympathy　these　men　could　pool　their　charity　and　build　a　happy　city　where　all　the　children　of　their　stricken　comrades　could　be　sent　to　school　together；　there　to　learn　that　man　is　moral；　that　the　strong　do　not　destroy　the　weak；　that　the　nestling　is　not　left　to　fate；　but　that　the　fatherless　are　fathered　by　all　men　whose　hearts　have　heard　their　cry。

This　vision　came　to　me　in　the　darkest　days　of　my　life。　I　had　seen　the　children　of　my　dead　comrades　scattered　like　leaves　from　a　smitten　tree　never　to　meet　again。　I　had　left　my　parents'　roof　to　be　buffeted　about　by　strikes　and　unemployment；　and　I　feared　that　our　home　would　be　lost　and　my　brothers　scattered　forever。　The　voice　of　hate　was　whispering　that　the　〃classes〃　would　ride　down　the　children　of　the　poor；　and　with　this　gloomy　thought　I　went　to　bed。　My　couch　was　a　bed　of　coal　slack；　and　I　was　journeying　to　a　mill　town　in　a　freight　car。

As　we　rolled　along；　I　saw　in　a　vision　train　after　train　of　lodge　men　going　to　some　happy　city。　They　were　miners　and　steel　workers；　as　well　as　clerks　and　teachers；　and　they　were　banded　together；　not　like　Reds　to　overthrow　the　wage　system；　but　to　teach　themselves　and　their　children　how　to　make　the　wage　system　shed　its　greatest　blessings　upon　all。　The　city　they　were　going　to　was　one　they　had　built　with　their　own　hands。　And　in　that　city　was　a　school　where　every　trade　was　taught　to　fatherless　children；　as　my　father　taught　his　trade　to　me。　And　with　this　trade　each　child　received　the　liberal　education　that　the　rich　man　gives　his　son　but　which　the　poor　man　goes　without。　This　was　the　wildest　fancy　I　had　ever　entertained。　It　was　born　of　my　own　need　of　knowledge。　It　was　a　dream　I　feared　I　could　not　hope　to　realize。



CHAPTER　XXIV

JOE　THE　POOR　BRAKEMAN


A　brakeman　stuck　his　head　in　the　end　window　of　the　box　car　and　shouted　at　me：

〃Where're　you　going？〃

〃Birmingham；〃　I　answered。

〃What　have　you　got　to　go　on？〃

I　had　some　money　in　my　belt；　but　I　would　need　that　for　the　boarding…house　keeper　in　the　Alabama　iron　town。　So　I　drew　something　from　my　vest　pocket　and　said：

〃This　is　all　I've　got　left。〃

The　trainman　examined　it　by　the　dim　light　at　the　window。　His　eye　told　him　that　it　was　a　fine　gold　watch。　〃All　right；〃　he　said　as　be　pocketed　it　and　went　away。　I　never　knew　whether　I　cheated　the　brakeman　or　the　brakeman　cheated　me。　The　watch　wasn't　worth　as　much　as　the　ride；　but　the　ride　wasn't　his　to　sell。

I　had　bought　the　watch　in　Cincinnati。　A　fake　auction　in　a　pawnshop　attracted　my　attention　as　I　walked　along　a　street　near　the　depot。　The　auctioneer　was　offering　a　〃solid　gold；　Swiss　movement；　eighteen　jeweled　watch〃　to　the　highest　bidder。　〃This　watch　belongs　to　my　friend　Joe　Coupling；〃　he　said；　〃a　brakeman　on　the　B。　&　O。　He　was　in　a　wreck　and　is　now　in　the　hospital。　Everybody　knows　that　one　of　the　best　things　a　railroader　has　is　his　watch。　He　only　parts　with　it　as　a　matter　of　life　and　death。　Joe　has　got　to　sell　his　watch　and　somebody　is　going　to　get　a　bargain。　This　watch　cost　eighty…five　dollars　and　you　couldn't　buy　the　like　of　it　to…day　for　one　hundred。　How　much　am　I　offered？〃　Some　one　bid　five　dollars；　and　the　bidding　continued　until　it　was　up　to　twenty…five　dollars。　At　that　price　the　watch　was　declared　sold；　and　I　strolled　on；　thinking　the　matter　over。　I　figured　that　the　story　of　Joe　the　injured　brakeman　must　be　false。　If　he　had　an　eighty…five…dollar　watch　he　could　borrow　forty　on　it。　Why　should　his　〃friend〃　have　sold　it　outright　for　twenty…five？　The　fakery　of　it　was　plain　to　any　one　who　stopped　to　think。　Who　then　would　be　fool　enough　to　pay　twenty…five　dollars　for　a　fake　watch　at　a　side　auction？　Not　I。　I　was　too　wise。　〃How　easy　it　is；〃　I　said　to　myself；　〃to　solve　a　skin　game。〃

The　next　day　I　happened　to　pass　the　place　again　and　they　were　selling　the　same　watch。　I　listened　for　the　second　time　to　the　sad　story　of　Joe　the　brakeman。　He　was　still　in　the　hospital　and　still　willing　to　sacrifice　his　eighty…five…dollar　gold　watch　to　the　highest　bidder。　Just　for　fun　I　started　off　the　bidding　at　two　dollars。　The　auctioneer　at　once　knocked　down　the　watch　to　me　and　took　my　money。　The　speed　of　it　dazed　me；　and　I　stumbled　along　the　street　like　a　fool。　What　was　the　game？　I　held　the　glittering　watch　in　my　hand　and　gazed　at　it　like　a　hypnotized　bird。　I　came　to　another　pawnshop　and　went　in。　〃What　will　you　give　me　on　this　watch？〃　I　asked。　The　pawnbroker　glanced　at　it　and　said　he　couldn't　give　me　anything　but　advice。

〃I　can　buy　these　watches　for　three　dollars　a　dozen。　They　are　made　to　be　sold　at　auction。　The　case　is　not　gold　and　the　works　won't　run。〃

I　had　been　caught　in　the　game　after　all。　The　whole　show　had　been　put　on　for　me。　The　men　who　did　the　bidding　the　first　day　were　〃with　the　show。〃　Their　scheme　was　to　get　a　real　bid　from　me。　When　I　failed　to　bite；　they　rung　down　the　curtain　and　waited　for　the　next　come…on。　The　show　was　staged　again　for　me　the　following　day；　and　that　time　they　got　me。　I　had　the　〃brakeman's　watch〃　and　he　had　the　laugh　on　me。　In　the　next　wreck　that　Brakeman　Joe　got　into　I　wished　him　the　same　luck　Comrade　Bannerman　wished　for　the　trainload　of　plutocrats。　〃If　I　should　meet　Joe　now；〃　I　said；　〃I'd　gladly　give　him　back　the　timepiece　that　he　prizes　so。〃　Let　us　hope　that　the　brakeman　I　gave　the　watch　to　down　in　Alabama　was　Brakeman　Joe。

There　was　much　to　think　of　in　that　auction　incident。　Experience　will　often　give　the　lie　to　theory。　My　theory　of　the　game　was　good　enough　for　me。　I　acted　on　my　theory；　and　they　got　my　money。　Perhaps　the　theory　of　Bannerman　was　wrong。　He　claimed　he　knew　just　how　the　capitalists　were　robbing　labor。　Suppose　we　backed　his　theory　with　some　money　and　got　stung？　I　was　now　theory　shy　and　I　have　stayed　away　from　theories　ever　since。

If　you　know　the　facts；　no　swindle　can　deceive　you。　I　spend　my　life　in　getting　facts。　I　now　have　seen　enough　to　know　that　capitalism　is　not　a　swindle。　If　all　hands　labored　hard　and　honestly　the　system　would　enrich　us　all。　Some　workers　are　dishonest　and　they　gouge　the　employers。　Some　employers　are　dishonest　and　they　gouge　the　workers。　But　whether　employer　or　employee　does　the　robbing；　the　public　is　the　one　that's　robbed。　And　they　are　both　members　of　the　public。　In　making　the　world　poorer　they　are　rendering　a　sorry　service　to　the　world。

Dishonesty　is　the　thing　that　does　the　trick。　And　it　is　not　confined　to　any　class。　It　was　not　a　capitalist　but　a　slick　wind　worker　who　robbed　me　by　the　watch　swindle。　He　had　to　swing　his　jaw　for　hours　every　day　in　order　to　steal　a　few　dollars。



CHAPTER　XXV

A　DROP　IN　THE　BUCKET　OF　BLOOD


In　Birmingham　I　found　a　job　in　a　rolling　mill　and　established　myself　in　a　good　boarding…house。　In　those　days　a　〃good　boarding…　house〃　in　iron　workers'　language　meant　one　where　you　got　good　board。　One　such　was　called　〃The　Bucket　of　Blood。〃　It　got　its　name　because　a　bloody　fight　occurred　there　almost　every　day。　Any　meal　might　end　in　a　knock…down…and…drag…out。　The　ambulance　called　there　almost　as　often　as　the　baker's　cart。　But　it　was　a　〃good〃　boarding…house。　And　I　established　myself　there。