the iron puddler-第20章

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　prove　that　I　could　count。　I　would　ask　if　there　was　a　school…teacher　in　the　audience　（there　was　always　one　there）。　He　would　rise；　and　I　would　ask　him　to　verify　my　calculations。　I　would　also　have　him　ask　me　to　spell　words。　He　would　give　me　such　words　as　〃combustion；〃　〃garbage　disposal；〃　〃bonded　indebtedness〃　and　so　on。　I　would　spell　the　words　and　write　them　on　the　slate。　He　would　then　ask　me　questions　in　history；　geography　and　political　economy。　Then　the　school…　teacher　would　turn　to　the　crowd　and　say：

〃Friends；　I　came　to　this　meeting　because　I　had　read　that　Mr。　Davis　is　an　ignorant　foreigner　unfitted　for　the　duties　of　city　clerk。　I　find　to　my　surprise　that　he　is　well　informed。　I　am　glad　we　came　here　and　investigated；　for　we　can　all　rest　assured　that　if　he　is　elected　to　the　office；　he　is　entirely　capable　of　filling　it。〃

I　handled　the　money　and　kept　the　books　for　the　union；　and　this　work　in　addition　to　my　campaign　efforts　wore　me　down　at　last。　Two　nights　before　the　election　I　decided　that　I　had　small　chance　of　winning。　I　was　on　the　Republican　ticket；　and　the　Republicans　had　been　in　office　four　years　and　their　administration　had　proved　unfortunate。　There　had　been　rich　pickings　for　contractors　in　that　new　and　overgrown　city；　and　the　people　blamed　the　Republicans　and　were　determined　on　a　change。

I　was　passing　the　office　of　the　opposition　editor　late　at　night　after　canvassing　for　votes　all　day。　I　thought　of　the　nasty　slurs　he　had　written　about　me　and　my　whole　ancestry。　I　had　fought　hard　to　educate　myself　and　had　been　helpful　to　others。　My　self…respect　revolted　under　this　editor's　malicious　goading。　I　happened　to　see　him　in　his　front　office；　and　on　a　sudden　impulse；　I　went　in；　took　hold　of　his　collar；　and　gave　him　a　good　licking。

The　next　day　he　bawled　me　out　worse　than　ever。　He　said　I　was　not　only　a　wild　Welshman　and　a　blockhead；　but　what　is　more　deadly　still；　I　was　a　gorilla　and　an　assassin。

And　the　next　day　I　was　elected。



CHAPTER　XXXIX

PUTTING　JAZZ　INTO　THE　CAMPAIGN


I　will　go　back　and　relate　more　details　of　my　race　for　office。　Having　won　the　nomination；　I　thrilled　with　pleasure　and　excitement；　but　I　was　at　a　loss　as　to　how　to　begin　my　campaign　for　election。　Should　I　hope　for　support　among　the　white…collar　classes　in　the　〃swell〃　end　of　town；　among　the　merchants　and　mill　owners　or　only　in　the　quarter　where　the　workers　lived？

The　first　act　of　a　candidate　is　to　have　cards　printed　and　pass　them　out　to　every　one　he　meets。　My　cards　bore　my　name　and　my　slogan：　〃Play　the　game　square。〃　I　argued　that　the　workers　should　take　part　in　the　city　government。　I　quit　the　tin　mill　and　went　around　making　speeches。　And　as　there　were　no　movies；　and　the　men　had　nothing　to　do　evenings　but　listen　to　speeches；　it　was　no　trouble　at　all　to　find　an　audience。　I　learned　that　a　politician　or　an　orator　has　the　same　appetite　for　audiences　that　a　drunkard　has　for　gin。　When　is　an　orator　not　an　orator？　When　he　hasn't　got　an　audience。　I　found　that　when　a　horse　fell　down　on　the　street　and　a　crowd　gathered　to　pick　it　up；　somebody　began　〃addressing　the　gathering　on　the　issues　of　the　day。〃

Now　I　know　why　the　cranks　from　everywhere　swarm　into　any　region　where　a　strike　is　on。　They　are　seeking　audiences。　They　have　no　love　for　humanity　except　that　portion　of　humanity　which　is　forced　to　be　an　audience　for　their　itching　tongues。　I　have　known　rich　Jawbone　Janes　to　travel　half　across　the　continent　to　harangue　a　poor　bunch　of　striking　hunyaks。　These　daughters　of　luxury　wanted　one　luxury　that　money　could　not　buy。　The　luxury　of　chinning　their　drivel　to　an　audience。　You　can't　buy　audiences　as　you　buy　orchids　and　furs。　Accidents　make　audiences。　When　a　horse　falls　down　and　a　crowd　gathers；　he'll　be　up　again　and　the　crowd　gone　before　a　girl　from　Riverside　Drive　can　come　a　hundred　miles　in　a　Pullman。　But　when　the　job　falls　down；　the　strike　crowd　sticks　together　for　days。　This　gives　the　crack…brained　lady　opportunity　to　catch　the　Transcontinental　limited　and　get　there　in　time　to　pound　their　ears　with　her　oratory。　She　prefers　a　foreign　crowd　that　can　not　understand　English；　they　are　slower　to　balk　on　her。　Not　understanding　what　she　says；　it　fails　to　irritate　them　greatly。　I　know　of　one　radical　rich　girl　who　boasts　she　has　spread　the　glad　tidings　to　audiences　of　thousands　representing　every　foreign　language　in　America。　She　still　hopes　some　time　to　catch　an　audience　that　understands　her　own　language。　That　would　be　a　little　better　fun；　she　thinks；　but　still　the　joy　of　talking　is　the　main　thing；　so　it　matters　little　whether　their　audience　understands。　She　wants　her　audiences　to　be　alive；　that's　all；　she　doesn't　care　much　what　they're　alive　with。

When　the　worker　comes　to　understand　that　these　〃leaders〃　from　high　society　care　nothing　for　him　but　only　want　a　prominence　for　themselves　and　have　no　natural　talents　with　which　to　earn　that　prominence；　then　the　worker　will　get　rid　of　that　tribe　forever。　Bill　Haywood　lacked　the　qualities　that　made　Sam　Gompers　a　labor　leader。　Bill　decided　to　be　a　leader　without　qualifying　for　it；　and　history　tells　the　rest。

I　circulated　among　the　audiences　that　were　listening　to　other　candidates　and　waited　for　the　men　to　express　their　opinions。　I　heard　one　stalwart　old　fellow　declare　he　was　going　to　vote　for　Jazz。　〃Jazz　is　the　fellow　we　want　for　City　Clerk；〃　I　heard　him　tell　his　comrades。　I　had　never　heard　of　Jazz　in　those　days：　Jazz　was　decidedly　a　dark　horse。　But　the　man　was　strong　for　him　and　wanted　his　friends　to　vote　the　same　way。

There　is　a　trick　that　was　often　used　in　small…town　elections。　When　the　〃reform　element〃　made　a　fight　on　the　〃old　gang〃　it　was　customary　for　the　gang　to　lie　down　and　place　the　name　of　the　new　man　on　the　ticket。　The　reformer　thought　the　gang　beaten　and　that　his　own　election　was　sure；　so　he　didn't　make　a　hard　campaign。　But　the　gang　quietly　passed　around　word　to　scratch　the　name　of　the　reformer　and　to　write　in　the　name　of　a　gang　candidate　in　the　secrecy　of　the　polling　booth。

Was　this　trick　being　played　on　me？　Were　they　now　passing　around　the　word　to　scratch　me　and　write　in　the　name　of　their　friend；　Jazz；　who　had　not　come　out　as　a　candidate　before？　I　edged　in　closer　to　the　man　who　was　boosting　Mr。　Jazz　for　my　job；　and　after　listening　for　a　while　I　learned　that　〃Jazz　Davis〃　was　the　man　he　was　electioneering　for。　He　caught　sight　of　my　face　and　said：　〃There　he　is　now。〃

〃My　name　isn't　Jazz；〃　I　said。　I　handed　him　my　card。　It　read：

JAS。　J。　DAVIS


〃What　is　it　then？〃　he　asked。

I　saw　that　I　would　lose　a　vote　if　I　humiliated　him。　So　I　laughed　and　said：　〃Yep；　I'm　him。　I　was　just　kidding。　I'm　mighty　glad　to　have　your　support。　Have　a　cigar。〃

But　I　went　away　worried。　My　personal　friends　knew　me　as　Jimmy。　The　men　electioneered　and　handed　cards　to　thought　my　name　was　Jazz。　On　the　ballot　my　name　would　appear　JAMES。　Between　〃Jimmy；〃　〃Jim；〃　〃James〃　and　Jazz〃　my　fellows　would　find　lots　of　room　for　confusion。　Every　vote　that　I　lost　on　that　account　would　be　due　to　my　own　carelessness。

It　taught　me　the　lesson　of　exactness。　I　never　again　put　out　any　puzzling　language；　but　tried　to　stick　to　words　that　could　not　be　misunderstood。



CHAPTER　XL

FATHER　TOOK　ME　SERIOUSLY


There　was　an　interval　of　nearly　five　months　between　the　time　of　my　election；　which　was　in　May；　and　the　date　of　taking　office　in　September。　I　decided　to　use　this　time　to　improve　my　qualifications　for　the　job。　I　returned　to　the　old　home　town　of　Sharon　and　took　a　course　in　a　business　college。　Again　I　walked　the　old　familiar　paths　where　as　a　boy　I　had　roamed　the　woods；　fished　the　streams；　brought　the　cows　along　the　dusty　road　from　pasture　and　blacked　the　boots　of　the　traveling　dudes　at　the　hotel。

There　is　a　great　thrill　for　the　young　man　who　comes　home　with　a　heart　beating　high　with　triumph；　to　see　the　love　and　admiration　in　his　parents'　eyes。　Father　shook　my　hand　and　said。　〃You're　a　good　boy；　Jimmy；　and　I'm　proud　of　you。　I　always　knew　you'd　make　your　mark。〃

〃I　haven't　made　much　of　a　mark；　dad；〃　I　laughed。　〃City　clerk　isn't　much。　County　recorder　is　what　I'm　aiming　for。〃　In　fact；　I　had　gone　so　far　as　to　dream　of　being　auditor　of　the　state　of　Indiana。

A　jolly　old　uncle　who　was　there　and　who　was　looked　on　as　the　sage　and　wit　of　the　Welsh　settlement；　began　kidding　me。

〃From　city　clerk　to　county　recorder　is　only　a　step；　Jimmy；〃　he　said。　〃Next　you'll　be　governor；　and　then　president。〃

Father　took　it　seriously。

〃You'll　never　be　president；　lad；〃　he　said；　〃because　you　wasn't　born　in　this　country。〃　He　seemed　to　think　that　was　the　only　reason。　He　turned　to　my　uncle　and　explained　regretfully：　〃Of　all　my　boys；　only　one　has　got　the　full　American　birthright。　My　youngest　boy；　Will；　is　the　only　one　that　can　be　president。〃

〃Well；〃　said　the　jolly　old　uncle；　〃the　rest　of　'em　can　be　government　officers。〃

Even　this　joke　father　took　as　a　sober　possibility。　I　saw　then　the　full　reason　why　he　came　to　America。　He　wanted　to　give　his　boys　boundless　opportunities。　A　humble　man　himself；　he　had　made　all　his　sacrifices　to　broaden　the　chances　for　his　children。　This　was　a　lesson　to　me。　I　could　not　repay　him。　I　could　only　resolve　to　follow　his　example；　to　stand　for　a　square　deal　for　children　everywhere。

Mother　was　as　pleased　with　my　humble　success　as　was　father。　When　I　sat　down　to　the　table　she　apologized　for　her　cooking　and　said：

〃After　the　fine　food　you　have　been　eating　in　the　big　hotels；　you　will　find　our　table　pretty　common。〃

〃You're　wrong；　mother；〃　I　said。　〃The　best　food　I　ever　had　I　got　right　here　at　your　table。　You've　never　lived　in　boarding…houses；　but　father　has。　He　knows　that　it's　a　rough　life；　and　they　don't　feed　you　on　delicacies。　Hotel　cookery　is　not　like　the　cookery　in　the　Old　World。　Over　there　they　make　each　dish　as　tasty　as　they　can；　and　good　eating　is　one　of　the　main　objects　in　life。　But　Americans　don't　like　to　eat。　They　begrudge　the　time　they　have　to　spend　at　the　table。　They　get　it　over　as　soon　as　they　can。　They　seem　to　take　it　like　medicine；　the　worse　the　medicine　tastes；　the　better　it　is　for　them。　An　egg　is　something　that　is　pretty　hard　to　spoil　in　the　cooking。　Yet　some　of　these　boarding…house　cooks　are　such　masters　of　the　art　that　they　can　fix　up　a　plate　of　steak；　eggs　and　potatoes　and　make　them　all　as　tasteless　as　a　chip　of　wood。　I've　had　this　kind　of　fare　for　the　last　few　years；　and　getting　back　to　your　table　is　the　best　part　of　home…coming。〃

Father　was　still　a　puddler；　and　to　show　my　appreciation　of　all　he　had　done　for　me；　I　went　into　the　mill　every　afternoon　that　summer　and　worked　a　heat　or　two　for　him　while　he　went　home　and　rested　in　the　shade。

The　workout　did　me　good。　It　kept　my　body　vigorous　and　cleared　my　brain　so　that　my　studies　were　easy　for　me；　and　I　advanced　with　my　education　faster　than　ever　before。

This　proved　to　me　that　schooling　should　combine　the　book　stuff　with　the　shop　work。　Instead　of　interfering　with　each　other；　they　help　each　other。　The　hand　work　makes　the　books　seem　more　enjoyable。



CHAPTER　XLI

A　PAVING　CONTRACTOR　PUTS　ME　ON　THE　PAVING


I　was　the　only　Republican　elected　that　year。　But　for　this　exception　the　Democrats　would　have　made　a　clean　sweep　of　the　city。　If　the　editor　had　not　charged　me　with　being　illiterate　I　would　neither　have　been　nominated　nor　elected。　When　I　appeared　before　audience