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the iron puddler-第2章

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hining of the travelers' shoes was labor。 I was a capitalist but not an employer; I was a laborer but not an employee。

〃Labor is prior to and independent of capital;〃 said Lincoln。 This is true。 I labored to break the branches from the tree before I had any capital。 They brought me fish; which were capital because I traded them for shoe blacking with which I earned enough money to buy ten times more fish than I had caught。

So labor is prior to capitalwhen you use the words in their right meaning。 But call the employee 〃labor〃 and the employer 〃capital;〃 and you make old Honest Abe say that the employee is prior to and independent of the employer; or that the wage earner is independent of the wage payer or; in still shorter words; the man is on the job before the job is created。 Which is nonsense。

Capital does not always mean employer。 A Liberty Bond is capital but it is not an employer; the Government is an employer but it is not capital; and when any one is arguing a case for an employee against his employer let him use the proper terms。 The misuse of words can cause a miscarriage of justice as the misuse of railway signals can send a train into the ditch。

All my life I have been changing big words into little words so that the employee can know what the employer is saying to him。 The working man handles things。 The professional man plies words。 I learned things first and words afterward。 Things can enrich a nation; and words can impoverish it。 The words of theorists have cost this nation billions which must be paid for in things。

When I was planning a great school for the education of orphans; some of my associates said: 〃Let us teach them to be pedagogues。〃 I said: 〃No; let us teach them the trades。 A boy with a trade can do things。 A theorist can say things。 Things done with the hands are wealth; things said with the mouth are words。 When the housing shortage is over and we find the nation suffering from a shortage of words; we will close the classes in carpentry and open a class in oratory。〃

This; then is the introduction to my views and to my policies。 They are now to have a fair trial; like that other iron worker in the Elwood police court。 I know what the word 〃previous〃 means。 I can give an account of myself。 So; in the following pages I will tell 〃where I was before I came here。〃

If my style seems rather flippant; it is because I have been trained as an extemporaneous speaker and not as a writer。 For fifteen years I traveled over the country lecturing on the Mooseheart School。 My task was to interest men in the abstract problems of child education。 A speaker must entertain his hearers to the end or lose their attention。 And so I taxed my wit to make this subject simple and easy to listen to。 At last I evolved a style of address that brought my points home to the men I was addressing。

After all these years I can not change my style。 I talk more easily than I write; therefore; in composing this book I have imagined myself facing an audience; and I have told my story。 I do not mention the names of the loyal men who helped work out the plans of Mooseheart and gave the money that established it; for their number is so great that their names alone would fill three volumes as large as this。

J。J。D。


CONTENTS

CHAPTER

    I  THE HOME…MADE SUIT OF CLOTHES

   II  A TRAIT OF THE WELSH PEOPLE

  III  NO GIFT FROM THE FAIRIES

   IV  SHE SINGS TO HER NEST

    V  THE LOST FEATHER BED

   VI  HUNTING FOR LOST CHILDREN

  VII  HARD SLEDDING IN AMERICA

 VIII  MY FIRST REGULAR JOB

   IX  THE SCATTERED FAMILY

    X  MELODRAMA BECOMES COMEDY

   XI  KEEPING OPEN HOUSE

  XII  MY HAND TOUCHES IRON

 XIII  SCENE IN A ROLLING MILL

  XIV  BOILING DOWN THE PIGS

   XV  THE IRON BISCUITS

  XVI  WRESTING A PRIZE FROM NATURE'S HAND

 XVII  MAN IS IRON TOO

XVIII  ON BEING A GOOD GUESSER

  XIX  I START ON MY TRAVELS

   XX  THE RED FLAG AND THE WATERMELONS

  XXI  ENVY IS THE SULPHUR IN HUMAN PIG…IRON

 XXII  LOADED DOWN WITH LITERATURE

XXIII  THE PUDDLER HAS A VISION

 XXIV  JOE THE POOR BRAKEMAN

  XXV  A DROP IN THE BUCKET OF BLOOD

 XXVI  A GRUB REFORMER PUTS US OUT OF GRUB

XXVII  THE PIE EATER'S PARADISE

XXVIII CAUGHT IN A SOUTHERN PEONAGE CAMP

 XXIX  A SICK; EMACIATED SOCIAL SYSTEM

  XXX  BREAKING INTO THE TIN INDUSTRY

 XXXI  UNACCUSTOMED AS I AM TO PUBLIC SPEAKING

XXXII  LOGIC WINS IN THE STRETCH

XXXIII I MEET THE INDUSTRIAL CAPTAINS

XXXIV  SHIRTS FOR TIN ROLLERS

 XXXV  AN UPLIFTER RULED BY ENVY

XXXVI  GROWLING FOR THE BOSSES BLOOD

XXXVII FREE AND UNLIMITED COINAGE

XXXVIII THE EDITOR GETS MY GOAT

XXXIX  PUTTING JAZZ INTO THE CAMPAIGN

   XL  FATHER TOOK ME SERIOUSLY

  XLI  A PAVING CONTRACTOR PUTS ME ON THE PAVING

 XLII  THE EVERLASTING MORALIZER

XLIII  FROM TIN WORKER TO SMALL CAPITALIST

 XLIV  A CHANCE TO REALIZE A DREAM

  XLV  THE DREAM COMES TRUE

 XLVI  THE MOOSEHEART IDEA

XLVII  LIFE'S PROBLEMS

XLVIII BUILDING A BETTER WORLD BY EDUCATION

 XLIX  CONCLUSION



THE IRON PUDDLER



CHAPTER I

THE HOME…MADE SUIT OF CLOTHES


A fight in the first chapter made a book interesting to me when I was a boy。 I said to myself; 〃The man who writes several chapters before the fighting begins is like the man who sells peanuts in which a lot of the shells haven't any goodies。〃 I made up my mind then that if I ever wrote a book I would have a fight in the first chapter。

So I will tell right here how I whipped the town bully in Sharon; Pennsylvania。 I'll call him Babe Durgon。 I've forgotten his real name; and it might be better not to mention it anyhow。 For though I whipped him thirty years ago; he might come back now in a return match and reverse the verdict; so that my first chapter would serve better as my last one。 Babe was older than I; and had pestered me from the time I was ten。 Now I was eighteen and a man。 I was a master puddler in the mill and a musician in the town band (I always went with men older than myself)。 Two stove molders from a neighboring factory were visiting me that day; and; as it was dry and hot; I offered to treat them to a cool drink。 There were no soda fountains in those days and the only place to take a friend was to the tavern。 We went in and my companions ordered beer。 Babe; the bully; was standing by the bar。 He had just come of age; and wanted to bulldoze me with that fact。

〃Don't serve Jimmy Davis a beer;〃 Babe commanded。 〃He's a minor。 He can't buy beer。〃

〃I didn't want a beer;〃 I said。 〃I was going to order a soft drink。〃

〃Yes; you was。 Like hell you was;〃 Babe taunted。 〃You came in here to get a beer like them fellers。 You think you're a man; but I know you ain't。 And I'm here to see that nobody sells liquor to a child。〃

I was humiliated。 The bully knew that I wanted to be a man; and his shot stung me。 My friends looked at me as if to ask: 〃Are you going to take that?〃 And so the fight was arranged; although I had no skill at boxing; and was too short…legged; like most Welshmen; for a fast foot race。 Babe had me up against a real problem。

〃Come on over the line;〃 he said。

Sharon was near the Ohio border and it was customary to 
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