the iron puddler-第12章

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The　wildest　book　of　all　was　called　Caesar's　Column。　It　was　in　the　form　of　a　novel　and　told　how　the　rich　in　America　worshiped　gold　and　lust　instead　of　God　and　brotherly　love；　and　how　they　drove　their　carriages　over　the　working　man's　children　and　left　them　crushed　and　bleeding　in　the　street。　America　had　ceased　to　be　a　republic　and　was　an　oligarchy　of　wealth　all　owned　by　a　dozen　great　families　while　the　millions　were　starving。　The　end　of　the　book　described　a　great　revolution　in　which　the　people　arose；　led　by　an　Italian　communist　named　Caesar　Spadoni。　The　mob　took　all　the　fine　houses　and　killed　the　rich　people。　Caesar　took　the　bodies　and；　laying　them　in　cement　like　bricks；　he　built　an　enormous　column　of　corpses　in　Union　Square　towering　higher　than　any　building　in　New　York。　He　established　his　headquarters　in　a　Fifth　Avenue　palace　and　was　directing　the　slaughter　of　all　men　who　owned　property；　when　some　of　his　followers　got　jealous　of　his　fine　position　and　killed　him　and　burned　the　house。　By　that　time　everything　in　America　was　destroyed；　and　the　hero　of　the　book；　having　invented　an　air…ship；　flew　away　to　South　Africa　to　escape　the　general　demolition。　This　book　was　being　circulated　by　communists　as　a　true　picture　of　what　the　country　was　coming　to。

These　pamphlets　came　into　my　hands　at　a　time　when　work　was　getting　scarcer　every　day　and　a　million　men　like　myself　were　moving　about　the　country　looking　for　jobs。　Then　for　the　first　time　I　realized　my　need　for　a　broader　education。　If　these　things　were　true；　it　was　my　duty　to　stop　chasing　the　vanishing　job　and　begin　to　organize　the　workers　so　that　they　might　destroy　the　capitalists。　But　how　could　I　know　whether　they　were　true？　I　had　no　knowledge　of　past　history。　And　without　knowing　the　past　how　could　I　judge　the　future？　I　was　like　the　old　man　who　had　never　seen　a　railroad　train。　His　sons　took　him　thirty　miles　over　the　hills　and　brought　him　to　the　depot　where　a　train　was　standing。　The　old　man　looked　things　over　and　saw　that　the　wheels　were　made　of　iron。　〃It　will　never　start；〃　he　said。　He　knew　that　if　his　wagon　had　heavy　iron　wheels；　his　team　could　never　start　it。　But　his　sons　said：　〃It　will　start　all　right。〃　They　had　seen　it　before；　they　knew　its　past　history。　Soon　the　train　started；　gathered　speed　like　a　whirlwind　and　went　roaring　away　down　the　track。　The　old　man　gazed　after　it　and　then；　much　excited；　he　exclaimed。　〃It　will　never　stop！〃

The　wisest　head　is　no　judge　unless　it　has　in　it　the　history　of　past　performances。　I　had　not　studied　much　history　in　my　brief　schooling。　The　mills　called　me　because　they　needed　men。　Good　times　were　there　when　I　arrived；　and　as　for　hard　times；　I　was　sure　they　〃would　never　start。〃　Now　the　hard　times　were　upon　us　and　panic　shook　the　ground　beneath　our　feet。　〃It　will　never　stop；〃　men　cried。　Had　they　studied　the　history　of　such　things　they　would　have　known　that　hard　times　come　and　hard　times　go；　starting　and　stopping　for　definite　reasons；　like　the　railway　train。

I　had　done　the　right　thing　in　quitting　school　and　going　to　the　puddling　furnaces　at　a　time　when　we　needed　iron　more　than　we　needed　education。　The　proverb　says；　〃Strike　while　the　iron　is　hot。〃　The　country　was　building；　and　I　gave　it　iron　to　build　with。　Railroads　were　still　pushing　out　their　mighty　arms　and　stringing　their　iron　rails　across　the　western　wheat　lands。　Bridges　were　crossing　the　Mississippi　and　spanning　the　chasms　in　the　Rocky　Mountains。　Chicago　and　New　York　were　rising　in　new　growth　with　iron　in　their　bones　to　hold　them　high。　My　youth　was　spent　in　giving　to　this　growing　land　the　element　its　body　needed。

Now　that　body　was　sick。　What　was　the　matter　with　it？　Lacking　an　education；　I　was　unprepared　to　say。　When　I　left　school　my　theory　was　that　every　boy　should　learn　a　trade　as　soon　as　possible。　Now　I　saw　that　a　trade　was　not　enough。　A　worker　needs　an　education；　also。　The　trade　comes　first；　perhaps；　but　the　education　ought　to　follow　on　its　heels。

During　the　next　ten　years　of　my　life　I　was　a　worker　and　a　student；　too。　My　motto　was　that　every　one　should　have　at　least　a　high…school　education　and　a　trade。



CHAPTER　XXIII

THE　PUDDLER　HAS　A　VISION


That　caravan　of　railroad　cars　bearing　the　happy　lodge　members　to　their　meeting　in　the　Rockies；　had　started　a　train　of　thought　that　went　winding　through　my　mind　ever　after。　In　fancy　I　saw　the　envious　Bannerman　shaking　his　fist　at　his　thriftier；　happier　brothers。　Should　I　denounce　the　banding　together　of　men　for　the　promotion　of　fun　and　good　fellowship？　Were　these　men　hastening　the　downfall　of　America　as　the　communist　predicted？　Is　not　good　fellowship　a　necessary　feeling　in　the　hearts　of　civilized　men？

Love　of　comrades　had　always　been　a　ruling　passion　with　me。　I　joined　my　union　as　soon　as　I　had　learned　my　trade；　the　Amalgamated　Association　of　Iron；　Steel　and　Tin　Workers　of　North　America。　It　was　a　long　name；　and　we　liked　every　word　in　it。　We　felt　the　glow　of　brotherhood；　and　as　I　said　before；　we　used　to　share　our　jobs　with　the　brother　who　was　out　of　work。　The　union　paid　a　weekly　benefit　to　men　who　had　to　strike　for　better　working　conditions。　At　that　time　there　were　no　death　benefits　nor　any　fund　to　educate　the　children　of　members　killed　in　the　mills。　When　such　a　death　happened；　the　union　appointed　a　committee　to　stand　at　the　office　window　on　pay…day　and　ask　every　man　to　contribute　something　from　his　wages。　There　is　a　charitable　spirit　among　men　who　labor　together　and　they　always　gave　freely　to　any　fund　for　the　widow　and　orphans。　This　spirit　is　the　force　that　lifts　man　above　the　beasts　and　makes　his　civilization。　There　is　no　mercy　in　brute　nature。　The　hawk　eats　the　sparrow；　the　fox　devours　the　young　rabbit；　the　cat　leaps　from　under　a　bush　and　kills　the　mother　robin　while　the　young　are　left　to　starve　in　the　nest。　There　is　neither　right　nor　wrong　among　the　brutes　because　they　have　no　moral　sense。　They　do　not　kill　for　revenge　nor　torture　for　the　love　of　cruelty；　as　Comrade　Bannerman　would　in　praying　that　the　train　be　wrecked　and　the　rich　men　burned　to　death　in　the　ruin。　The　beasts　can　feel　no　pity；　no　sympathy；　no　regret；　for　nature　gave　them　no　conscience。　But　man　differs　from　all　creation　because　he　has　a　moral　sense；　he　has　a　conscience。　My　conscience　has　been　a　very　present　thing　with　me　through　all　my　life。　I　am　a　praying　man。　I　never　take　a　doubtful　step　until　I　have　prayed　for　guidance。

〃You'll　never　get　anywhere；　Jim；〃　fellows　have　said　to　me；　〃as　long　as　your　conscience　is　so　darn　active。　To　win　in　this　world　you　have　got　to　be　slick。　What　a　man　earns　will　keep　him　poor。　It's　what　he　gains　that　makes　him　rich。〃　If　this　is　so；　the　nation　with　the　lowest　morals　will　have　the　most　wealth。　But　the　truth　is　just　the　opposite。　The　richest　nations　are　those　that　have　the　highest　moral　sense。

But　this　was　a　great　problem　for　a　young　uneducated　man。　To　be　told　by　some　of　my　fellows　that　dishonesty　was　the　only　road　to　wealth；　and　to　be　shown　in　communist　documents　that　the　capitalists　of　America　were　stealing　everything　from　the　workers；　put　a　mighty　problem　up　to　me。　And　that's　what　made　me　pray　for　guidance。　I　pray　because　I　want　an　answer；　and　when　it　comes　I　recognize　in　it　my　own　conscience。　Praying　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