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The Breton Mills

The Breton Mills image
Parent Issue
Day
10
Month
February
Year
1888
Copyright
Public Domain
OCR Text

Jopyrighted by the Author, and publlshed by arrangement with him. CHAPTER XI. UNGRATEFÜL POPULACE. Philip Breton sat late over the tea table, one evening Borne days after. Ilis father had been detained down in tho village, and had come home with a good deal on his mind. Indeed, the old gentleman, who genera] 13' laid aside his hardness outside his own doors, had sat In sileneo wrinkling his forehead very inartiotically almost throughout the meal. "Poor folks are always ungrateful," ho exelaimed harshly at last as ho shook his head severely &t the mald servaat who offered him the cake basket. "Here I have whitewashed evory honse for them, and it was only to-night I licard some grumbling old woman teil her husband, sho wondered how olfl Breton would like to live in one of his own tonements." Philip snid nothing. It had been his habit lately, when his father g-;t 011 this theme, to keep sileneo. ile was puzzled to know what to say. "VVhy, look at it, Phil. The insurance on the bnrned rnill won't make up for tho lost time in rebuilding, and this is the time they select to ask for fire escapes. Yield them an inch and they want an ell. I suppose they think I onglit to run the factory for a big benevolent institution. Every man that is poor curses me for it, and not one shiftless family in town, I'll warrant, but ■would lay the fault on my shouldei's. By I the waj-, Phil, you have been to college; you ought to know if thero isn't any way I can stop the tongue of that tall brown haired .f ello w. Can"t tho law touch him? I have discharged him, but he does more mischief than ever." "Discharged Curranl" exclairaed Phih'p. "You don't mean itl why, he is the man that saved Bertba's life," he continued hurriedly. "You must take hira back at once - you must take him back at once, no matter what he has said." "No matter what ho has done either, I suppose," said Mr. Breton, with some heat "Perhaps I know more of the interesting young man tlian you d. ," he went on indiscreetly, "It may be as well for you if I open your ('3-es a little - what is it, Mary?" "Three ir.cn at the door, sir. They want tQ see you, sir.'' "I think they are workmen." The mili owiicr found threo of his workmen in his Btudy; all standing when he entered because they feit lessawkward on their feet. "Send'my sou iñ," he called to Mary. "He might as well learn how to meet this sort of occasion." The delegation of workmen did not look very fierce. One of them kept gazing long-" ingly out of the window, and smoothing his napless feit hat. Another, out of whose soiled coat pocket stuck the stem of a clay pipe, was studying the ceilingof the room with an intensity only explainable by his fear of his master's eye. They were two of the men who had peered into the parlor windows of this very house on the evening our story commences. The third was John Graves, whose eyes were 'fixed unflinchingly on the mili owner for vhora he had a message. WUen Philip caine in he was a l.ttlo startlod tosee liis quondam host, but the man had other things to think of than the possiule identity , of this elegantly, ch-essed young gentleman ■with th. nngrateful tramp he had kept once over niglit. "Thore'a a meetin' of the mili han's down in tbe hall, sir, and they sent us up to ask a favor." Mr. Breton had seated himself be'ore his long office tabla and pulied up a file of business letters. "You have too many meetings," hosaid loudly. ' You talk so much you aren't fit to ■work. Some of the uoisiest of you will find themselves out of a job some fine raorning; one mr.ü tlid t.io other day." The two other men looked amciously at their spokesrcan. If they had darod they would have begun to mako excuses for coming. Their wives and babies must be fed, and taliciug a.out their rights wouldn't ever feed them. I!t others who could afford to offend him go to the meetings. But the poor fellows were af raid to raise their voices, oven in a;il" y. "But the willingest of us all don't want to be roasted to death, and it aint a bit pleasanttr to us men folks to think of seem' our wives and children burnt up bafore our eyes. Ourwomen aint quite so purtyas those of the rich, but we prize 'em as much. We come to ask for fire escapes on the miXs. So jf there ahould happen to come a firo in day timo, when the milis were fnll, the poor critters could p;it out." It was quito a long 6peech for John Graves in such anguet presence. and he ddivered it in the monotonoüs Yankee drawl which carries high tragfdy or low co:n'_"!v v.ithout a distiuction of accent. "There is :io danger,'1 he answered with a gruff luugh, "and in business we eant spond muc!i money providing againt very unlikely evento. Firo escapes would bo apiccoof useless exfcravagance." .Mr. Breton looked shnrply at his vi.tors over the file of letters. "It would mak'.1 necessary another cut in your pay " Bill Rogers fmgercd his pipe uneasily in the significas I silence that foílowed, and flnaHy dr w' it half out of his pocket tbrough f orce of liabit in disferess. Thcn he fouud his voice. "Yer jokin', squire; yer woiüdn't cutus poor devils down again. The last cutseemcd as if it would kil] us, till we found how little it takes to keep soul and body together if a critter don't ex;ct nothiu' else. Wliy, squire, a dog has the best of some on us now: for folies let him steal." The tall man tlirust back his pipo iuto the deptbs of hLsjoeket, and his face hardened into a sullen expressicn as he added solemnly: "I cal'late anothor cut would fill all the jails in the country. Yer might as well give us the least we can live on here as support us in prison." The mili owner rose to his feet with a bustling morement of impatience. Tho unreasonable beings had no conception of the principies of political oconomy, but always had some particular hardship of their own to urge against its beautiful thcories, as if what made the rieh more rich must not in some way help tne beggars even that cringed at their feet. "Well, well, T don't mean to ent you again if you don't bothcr me too much. I have lost so mnch that I really can't afford auothcr dollar of expense." He rang tho bell for the servant. Thero was a glcam of sarcastio humor in John Graves' black eyes. "But wouldn't it now bc quite a loss to burn up a thousand such good chcap factory han's? I wouldn't thought you could afford that. These fire 'scapes now"' "Show them out, Mary," interruptod Mr. Breton angnly. "ou mjghtas well know, I could find a thousand as good and as cheap, in a week,"' and he shut the office door after them with a slum. "But you havo let those men go away thinking you had just as lief Uiey would be burned to death," expostulated Philip, flushing with cxcitemeiit. "Nothing of the kind, eir, only that- but do you tak sides with them? f hat is the last thing I expected, that my own son would take part against me." Possibly the old gentleman was a littlo ahamed of having spoken quito as harshly to the workmen as he had. It would be repeated all about town. And it was certainly incautious, but bis very uneasiness made him the more provoked at Philip's suggestion. "I presume you picked up a few socialistic ideas at school. No doubt you would like to put on the fire escapes out of the mouey your mother left you." He rang the bell violently. "Yes I would," exclaimed Philip, his eyes lighting up. "I will be very glad to pay for it all. It seems unjust, somehow, to crowd the men and girls into the milis as thick as they can work, and not provide so but that they all may be burned to" "Mary, bring those three men back," interrupted Mr. Breton. "But they are on the street by this." "It makes no difference," and the cholerío old gentleman brought his fist down with a crash on the table. "Go after them if you have to ehase them a mile. Bring them back, I say." The little oflice clock ticked its loudest to break the silence until the door opened to let in the returning committee. What could il mean? Mr. Breton stood with his back turued to them, drumming on the window pane, while Philip, pale and uncomfortable, looked nervously at his father and thtin at the three awkward figures iu the doorway, with the breathless servant girl behind them waiting for startling developments. "You can report to your meeting," said Mr. Breton in a constraiued voice, without facing the workmen, "that my son will put on the firo escapes at his own expense. That is all." The men were astonished. So the young mili owner's son had begun to redeem his promise of the night of the fire. There were rough words of gratitude on their lips, their hearts were in a glow, after the first chili of disappointment, but there ivas an influence in the little office that hushed their eager speech, and they only ducked their heads in awkward acknowledgment and followed the maid out. "Did you suppose," aid Mr. Breton in a calmer tone as ho left thé vvindow and took his chair by the long table, "that I was goingto let you pay for those fire escapes? Not a penny, my dear boy. but you can have tb.8 credit of it, diseredit I shoukl cali it." Ha opened the drawer and drew out a sheet of business paper, "The Breton Mills,'" was printer) at the top. He dipied hispen in tb iuk aiitl wrote in tha date. Tlien he wrote the address, as follnws: "John T. Giddings, Esq., Attorney at La 42 Loring street, Lockout. " "Please sit down, Phil. I ara not mueh in the habit of talking of my business to anybody, but I presume it is your right to know this." Mr. Breton laid down his pen nd elasped his hands behind his back. "I want to make this mili four times its present, size; I Laven't the money, but other men have. I ara going to take those other men in with ine, and the:i turn the whole thing intoacorporation. Giddlngs is managing it for me." Philip's face feil. A Corporation I Then all his thoughts of some day lctting a littla light into the lives of the villagers, so far always in the shadow, his dreains which had lont a new dignity to his life, were all for noíhing. A soulless corporation, with nobody to blame for an act of injustice ! How it would rivet the shackles of the poor past any power of his hands to loose them. "What isthe trouble, my boy?" smiled his fathcr, i;i hijt superior wisdom. "One would think you vranted the tough job I have had, over again. It is too mueh, too mueh for a man; why, I thougrht I was doing you akindness. A man thinks, at first, he is strong, that he won't care for the murmurs and the threatenings of his help, but he gets tired. The amount of power, almost like God's, Philip," said Mr. Breton excitedly, "almost like God's, whieh a big fortune gives a man, Í3 too mueh, too mueh." He carne around the tablo, and put his hand on his son's shoulder. "The peoplo are poor and unhappy ; we can't shut our eyes to it. Dou't we all wonder," he went on in this new, strange mood Philip was fairly startled at, "don't we all wonder what life is worth to them that they are so hungry for the bread that kceps the breath in them And they all blamo the men who own the milis; they think it is our hardness and iajustice. A man may know he is all right, that rich men have always done as he ia doing, that the few always havo tho best c f everything, and seem to deprive the masses of the ü' rights. But it wears on a man; he wants to get Ixihind somebody or sometbiug occasiorially." The littlo office clock ticked on restlessly, for anothcr week, and Philip had come to feel that to be in love may be ttie most terrible misfortune of a man's life. His prido had net let hira cali again on Bertha fordays of distress, days of hot, dry wretchedness, whose iawn was a new, pitUess reminder of his quenchless passion that inet only insult. It was insult, as he feit it, for a lover bas sensibilities painfully acute, and can detect the slightest change in a woman's relations with him, by signa too subtlo for uustimulated olservation. A hair's breadth variation in tone makes mysterious revelations, s weet or bitter to him ; a shade of expression in the lieautiful blue eyes, has a meaning clearer than words, to thrill him with hope, or plunge him into despair. And in those days, too, ho foiyid time to romember how unloverlike Bertha had always been to him, and tho inany times she had met his ardor with coldness, with all the instances of hardness and neglect she had meted out to his devotion, rose up in his rnind like hideous sins that will not be f orgot. How he had fooled him.self, and yet he had been so happy in his delusion. There carne a light tap at tho door. He elosed tho drawers and turued about in his chair in time to see Mary, the maid, enter with a letter for him. Ho glanced at the writing, and then was so angry at the sweet glow aboat his heart that he tossed the letter carelessly on the table. The maid had lingered with a woman's unwearying tasto for sentiment; but now she slanimed the door on him and went bridling down the hall in high dudgeon. "He's a pretty beau, hO is," she muttered; "f I was that girl of his I'd teach him to treat my love letters that way." But the maid did not see, for the door was shut, what might have better suited her ideas I of propriety. Her young master had torn opoothe euvelope o."'! read tb thrpe lines of the letter before Mary had finished her disgusted soliloquy. Then he reread it a dozen times and beha ved generally in as foolish a f ashion as the most exaeting sweetheart could have desired. Jiut there were only three lines. "I hare not deserved it, I do not deserva it; but will you cali before 7 to-night? "Bertha." But whorö was his sullen determiuation uever to see her again? Had he forgotten so soon that she had never loved him? But he remembered that moment that to-morrow was the day sho had promised to let him talk of marriage to her. There was a new flush on his face, which any woman might have thought handsome now, and a new bright light in his eyes. Why, it was near 7 o'clock now. And he rose to go out. "Bah!" It was his father who opened the door and canie in, tearing a scrap of paper between his fat fingers. But Philip thrust his letter into his inside pocket, and then made sure it was safe, as if it were a precious ticket of admission. "My dear Puil, if there ever wasaman fooi enough to try and give the poor what they want, they would lead him the wildest kind of a wild goose chase, I can teil you. You'll see yet I was right about those fire escapes. Since they havo got those the help are clamoring for something new every day. They devote all their sparn time trying to think of some Right they are kept out of. I suppose the ninnies imagine the milis ought to be run in their interest," and Mr. Breton smiled at the absurdity of the idea conjured up. Then he tossed the torn bits of paper into the waste baskot. "There goes one of their warnings; I have burned a dozen within a week. 'If I don't do this or that, my wills will stop,' they read. I wouldn't wonder if a strike was brewing. I only hope they will give me one more day. They might scare some of the capitalists if they should make a disturbance to-morrow, but after to-morrow it will be too late. They can do their worst ; we shall always have the whip hand of them." "Is your Corporation actually going to be started to-morrow?" exclaimed Philip, breathlessly; "Ididn't know but it was given up." "I never give anything up, my son. But you can help me a good deal if you wilL The hands trust you, they would do as you urged them. You understand how to talk to them. Yes, you do; don't stop me; didn't your ready tongue save the mili once, the night of the fire? Now, just you run down town, go into their meeting, if tbere is any, calm them down some way, I don't care how, Philip; all I want is ono day more. If they should happen to strike to-morrow, good gracious, Phil, it might knock my Corporation scheme all to smithereens. Little mercy they'd ever get af ter that f rom me, thougli. You see they won't gain anything either way, strike or no strike, but you see I might lose." Philip moved toward the door in silence. To-morrow goodby to hope from any help of his, and his lather expeeted him to "That's right, my boy; dou'tdelay; I am expecting a man here every minute, and I" "But, father, I can't" "Yes, you can. Ah! good evening, Mr. Giddings. My son, Mr. Giddings, my lawyer." "But I must say one word to you." "No, positively not one moment, Phil; later ou. Good night." 90 BE COXTÜTCTCD.1

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Subjects
Ann Arbor Argus
Old News