Alton Locke, Tailor and Poet - An Autobiography by Charles Kingsley
page 243 of 615 (39%)
page 243 of 615 (39%)
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"What's the use of that, my good Mr. Crossthwaite?" interrupted some one, querulously. "Don't you know what came of the strike a few years ago, when this piece-work and sweating first came in? The masters made fine promises, and never kept 'em; and the men who stood out had their places filled up with poor devils who were glad enough to take the work at any price--just as ours will be. There's no use kicking against the pricks. All the rest have come to it, and so must we. We must live somehow, and half a loaf is better than no bread; and even that half loaf will go into other men's mouths, if we don't snap at it at once. Besides, we can't force others to strike. We may strike and starve ourselves, but what's the use of a dozen striking out of 20,000?" "Will you sign the protest, gentlemen, or not?" asked Crossthwaite, in a determined voice. Some half-dozen said they would if the others would. "And the others won't. Well, after all, one man must take the responsibility, and I am that man. I will sign the protest by myself. I will sweep a crossing--I will turn cress-gatherer, rag-picker; I will starve piecemeal, and see my wife starve with me; but do the wrong thing I will not! The Cause wants martyrs. If I must be one, I must." All this while my mind had been undergoing a strange perturbation. The notion of escaping that infernal workroom, and the company I met there--of taking my work home, and thereby, as I hoped, gaining more time for study--at least, having my books on the spot ready at every odd moment, was most enticing. I had hailed the proposed change as a blessing to me, till I heard Crossthwaite's arguments--not that I had not known the facts before; |
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