Mary Barton by Elizabeth Cleghorn Gaskell
page 290 of 595 (48%)
page 290 of 595 (48%)
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"Yes, they've given him a sovereign. You're one of th' Union, Job?"
"Ay! I'm one, sure enough; but I'm but a sleeping partner in the concern. I were obliged to become a member for peace, else I don't go along with 'em. Yo see they think themselves wise, and me silly, for differing with them. Well! there's no harm in that. But then they won't let me be silly in peace and quietness, but will force me to be as wise as they are; now that's not British liberty, I say. I'm forced to be wise according to their notions, else they parsecute me, and sarve me out." What could her father be doing upstairs? Tramping and banging about. Why did he not come down? Or why did not Job go? The supper would be spoilt. But Job had no notion of going. "You see my folly is this, Mary. I would take what I could get; I think half a loaf is better than no bread. I would work for low wages rather than sit idle and starve. But, comes the Trades' Union, and says, 'Well, if you take the half-loaf, we'll worry you out of your life. Will you be clemmed, or will you be worried?' Now clemming is a quiet death, and worrying isn't, so I choose clemming, and come into th' Union. But I'd wish they'd leave me free, if I am a fool." Creak, creak, went the stairs. Her father was coming down at last. Yes, he came down, but more doggedly fierce than before, and made up for his journey, too; with his little bundle on his arm. He went up |
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