summaryrefslogtreecommitdiff
diff options
context:
space:
mode:
authornfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org>2025-01-25 07:41:16 -0800
committernfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org>2025-01-25 07:41:16 -0800
commit0205a55e1de2cc59645aa2097afd40d710628a41 (patch)
tree43890fe9b50a857af07a3d919902306da4c9fa7c
parentba3802199a0e3ac54628de45bc98395a9bc277f4 (diff)
NormalizeHEADmain
-rw-r--r--.gitattributes4
-rw-r--r--LICENSE.txt11
-rw-r--r--README.md2
-rw-r--r--old/69636-0.txt5954
-rw-r--r--old/69636-0.zipbin112314 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/69636-h.zipbin2114241 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/69636-h/69636-h.htm8255
-rw-r--r--old/69636-h/images/cover.jpgbin1598997 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/69636-h/images/i_books.jpgbin121666 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/69636-h/images/i_frontispiece.jpgbin254301 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/69636-h/images/title.jpgbin37258 -> 0 bytes
11 files changed, 17 insertions, 14209 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d7b82bc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/.gitattributes
@@ -0,0 +1,4 @@
+*.txt text eol=lf
+*.htm text eol=lf
+*.html text eol=lf
+*.md text eol=lf
diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6312041
--- /dev/null
+++ b/LICENSE.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,11 @@
+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
+Procedures for determining public domain status are described in
+the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org.
+
+No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in
+jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize
+this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright
+status under the laws that apply to them.
diff --git a/README.md b/README.md
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..885e142
--- /dev/null
+++ b/README.md
@@ -0,0 +1,2 @@
+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #69636 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/69636)
diff --git a/old/69636-0.txt b/old/69636-0.txt
deleted file mode 100644
index 029b236..0000000
--- a/old/69636-0.txt
+++ /dev/null
@@ -1,5954 +0,0 @@
-The Project Gutenberg eBook of Salome Shepard, Reformer, by Helen M.
-Winslow
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
-most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
-of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you
-will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
-using this eBook.
-
-Title: Salome Shepard, Reformer
-
-Author: Helen M. Winslow
-
-Release Date: December 25, 2022 [eBook #69636]
-
-Language: English
-
-Produced by: Richard Tonsing and the Online Distributed Proofreading
- Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from
- images generously made available by The Internet Archive)
-
-*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SALOME SHEPARD,
-REFORMER ***
-
-
-[Illustration: Sincerely Yours Helen M Winslow]
-
-
-
-
- SALOME SHEPARD, REFORMER.
-
-
- BY
-
- HELEN M. WINSLOW.
-
-[Illustration: ART FOR TRUTH....]
-
- BOSTON, MASS.:
-
- =Arena Publishing Company,=
-
- COPLEY SQUARE,
-
- 1893.
-
-
-
-
- Copyright 1893,
- BY
- HELEN M. WINSLOW.
-
- ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
-
-
- ARENA PRESS.
-
-
-
-
- “Pardon, gentles all,
- The flat, unraised spirit that hath dared
- On this unworthy scaffold to bring forth
- So great an object.”
- SHAKESPEARE.
-
-
-
-
- SALOME SHEPARD, REFORMER.
-
-
-
-
- I.
-
-
-Salome Shepard gazed wonderingly at the crowd of people in the street,
-as she guided her pony-phaeton through the factory precincts.
-
-“What can be the matter with these people?” she thought. “I’m sure they
-ought to have gone to their work before this.”
-
-It was a wet October day. The narrow street was slippery with the muddy
-water that oozed along to the gutters. The factory boardinghouses loomed
-up on either side, dingy and desolate. Even the mills looked larger and
-coarser, in the gloomy air of the morning.
-
-As she drove by them, the fair owner listened in vain for the rumble of
-machinery. Inside, the great, well-lighted rooms looked dreary and
-barn-like in the gray mist that struggled through the windows.
-
-One hour before, the machinery, shrieking and groaning, had voiced the
-protest of the “hands” against their fancied and their real wrongs. One
-hour before, every employe had been in his or her place. But the gloom
-of the atmosphere could not obscure the suppressed excitement of the
-morning. Shortsighted and blind to their best interest, they might have
-been; but there was not a man among them who did not feel a tremendous
-underlying principle at stake.
-
-And so, at precisely ten o’clock, the machinery had suddenly and
-mysteriously stopped, and every man, woman and child, without a word,
-had left the mills.
-
-All this had happened while Salome Shepard was calling on an elderly
-friend of her mother’s at the other end of the town. It had been a
-delightfully cosy morning in spite of the rain; and, after a gossipy
-fashion, they had passed it in discussing, as women will, the newest
-pattern of crochet, the last society-novel, the coming concerts in town.
-
-Salome’s mood was the comfortable one conduced by such soothing
-intellectual food, as she set forth on her homeward drive. The rain had
-ceased, and only along the river did the mists hover, suggesting to her
-idle fancy the thick smoke which hangs over a smouldering fire.
-
-But the fire which had been creeping under the life of the Shawsheen
-Mills had but just burst into flames, which mounted higher and higher as
-the day wore on.
-
-All through the factory precincts the unwonted excitement was manifest.
-Groups of employes were everywhere—on the street-corners, in front of
-tenements and boardinghouses, in the middle of the street;—and all were
-engaged in absorbing discussion of one exciting theme—the strike.
-
-Men without coats or hats; women with shawls thrown loosely over their
-heads; girls, bonnetless and neglectful of dress; unkempt old women, who
-were perhaps the home-makers for these hard-worked and ill-paid people;
-all were indifferent save to one subject.
-
-Even the quick passage, through their midst, of the pony-phaeton and its
-mistress failed to attract attention beyond an occasional surly glance
-from the men or an envious one from the women. Unmindful of the long
-days in store, when there would be ample time to discuss their wrongs,
-they remained huddled in excited groups in the wet October air, talking
-over the strike,—the famous strike of the Shawsheen Mills.
-
-“I declare!” muttered the young woman who was hurrying the pony out of
-these disagreeable surroundings; “it must be a strike! Nothing else
-would crowd them into the street so. I wonder what they want? Dear me!
-what nuisances these work-people are. Why can’t they be sensible, and
-when they are earning a living, be content? Dear me! if I had the making
-over of this world I would make everybody comfortably off, and nobody
-rich—unless it were myself,” she added, laughing; for absolute
-truthfulness was a necessity of Salome Shepard’s nature, and she knew
-perfectly well that she could not do without the luxuries to which she
-had always been accustomed.
-
-“If I had the making over of the world!”
-
-The words repeated themselves in her mind. If any human being has the
-power of making over the world in any smallest degree, something
-whispered, that person must be a young, attractive woman, with a vast
-property and absolute control of several hundred people, besides two
-millions of dollars in her own right.
-
-“Dear me!” she said aloud, as she drove up the graveled road under the
-dripping yellow beeches. “How positively dreadful it must be to be a
-reformer! How would I look in a bloomer costume and black bombazine
-bonnet? No. Let things alone, keep to your sphere, young woman,—the
-proper, well-regulated, protected and chaperoned sphere of a delicate
-young lady, and let the world right its own wrongs.”
-
-She jumped lightly from the phaeton, tossing the reins to James, and
-showing her fine, well-turned figure to excellent advantage as she ran
-up the broad steps.
-
-The massive doors turned noiselessly at her approach. She passed through
-the fine old hall and went directly up the broad oak staircase to her
-room.
-
-“How comfortable this is,” she said to herself, as the blazing wood-fire
-threw flickering shadows over the dainty hangings, the warm rugs and the
-choice pictures.
-
-But even as she drew a long sigh of contentment with her lot, a picture
-of wet and muddy streets, thickset with groups of brawny men and
-bedraggled, unkempt women, intruded itself, and the sigh changed its
-tenor.
-
-“If I only had the making over of the world!” she said again aloud; and
-added resolutely, “but I haven’t.”
-
-
-
-
- II.
-
-
-The Shawsheen Mills had been established many years before the opening
-of this story by Salome’s grandfather, Newbern Shepard. They constituted
-one of the chief manufacturing concerns of Shepardtown. They made more
-cloth, and that of a better quality, than any other mill outside the
-“City of Spindles.” They employed a much larger force of operatives than
-any other factory in the place, and had always held a controlling
-interest in town affairs.
-
-When the Shawsheen Mills were first started, blooming girls from all
-parts of Massachusetts came swarming to them, glad of a new and
-respectable employment,—came with earnest purpose to make this new life
-and its outcomes subservient to a better future. The conscientious New
-England girl of those days took as much pride in making a perfect web of
-cloth as though it were for her own wearing. Aware that her employers
-took an interest in her welfare, aside from the fact that she was a part
-of the motive power of the mill, she rewarded them with a full
-performance of her duty. A mutual goodfellowship had existed, then,
-between employer and employed in the years when old Newbern Shepard was
-at the head of his mills.
-
-All this had changed. Newbern Shepard had died after a long and
-successful career, leaving the business to his son, Floyd Shepard. The
-latter, educated at Harvard, with five years of study afterward in
-Germany, had developed little taste for an active business life such as
-his father had led. He had, consequently, placed the entire business in
-the hands of Otis Greenough, a friend of his college-days and a
-hard-headed business man. Floyd Shepard had idled the greater part of
-his time before reaching the age of fifty in various parts of the world.
-
-Then he came home, married a Baltimore belle, and passed his old age in
-his native place.
-
-Even then, he gave little thought to the details of business. He added
-to and improved the home of his forefathers, until his house and grounds
-were acknowledged to be the finest in the state. After four years of
-married life, his young wife died, leaving him one child—a babe of three
-days. Then he retired into his study, and lived only among his books.
-
-“Don’t trouble me with the business,” he would say to Otis Greenough, on
-the rare occasions when it seemed necessary to consult the owner of the
-mills. “I care nothing as to how you manage the works, and know less how
-it should be done. Suit yourself as to details, and keep the mills
-paying a good profit. I shall be satisfied.”
-
-Upon this principle the mills had been run for thirty years. The agent
-and his superintendents had devoted themselves to the problem of getting
-out more goods and making more money than their competitors, while
-keeping the standard of their wares up to its old mark. They had no time
-for the problem of human life involved. The first and principal question
-had required a severe struggle, with active brains and sharp wits. What
-wonder, then, that the increasing mass of operatives had come to be
-considered, every year, less as human beings in need of help and
-encouragement, and more as mechanical attachments of the mills?
-
-Only such operatives as had been brought up in the mills realized the
-difference. The employes were mostly of the unwashed population,
-expecting nothing but a place to earn their living and but scanty pay
-for it.
-
-Having, at the outset, no confidence in their employers, and no feeling
-of goodwill towards them, they had no conscientious motive behind their
-work. On the contrary, they stood on the defensive, watching for
-oppression and tyranny, and ready to take arms against them.
-
-This was the state of things when the first regularly organized strike
-occurred at the Shawsheen Mills.
-
-Otis Greenough, although an old man, was still at the head of the mills.
-Floyd Shepard’s death three years before had made no difference with the
-vast business interests in his name. In willing everything he owned to
-his daughter, who was already heiress to a large fortune from her
-mother’s family, he had provided that Otis Greenough should be chief
-agent during the remainder of his life; and that the mills should
-continue on the same plan by which they had been run for the past
-quarter of a century.
-
-Otis Greenough was an arbitrary man, with that enormous strength of will
-which a man must have who is to control and manage two thousand people
-and an increasing business.
-
-If, in the march of economic progress, he chose to make changes in the
-machinery of the mills, he consulted no one, and cared nothing for the
-black looks or surly mutterings of the operative who might fancy himself
-injured thereby. Had it been hinted to him that his operatives might be
-trained to take a personal interest in the success or failure of new
-experiments or, indeed, that they had any right to his brotherly
-consideration, he would have flouted the idea.
-
-It was his boast that he never wasted words on the operatives. In short,
-he was as indifferent to the rights of Labor as his Lancashire spinners
-were to the interests of Capital. Hence the strike.
-
-At noon of the day that Salome Shepard had driven through the factory
-street, Otis Greenough sat in his private office with his two
-superintendents, the treasurer and cashier of the mills, and one or two
-subordinates. As the bell struck for twelve, five men from the various
-departments filed in and presented a written document. They were the
-committee appointed by the new Labor Union.
-
-Mr. Greenough took the paper with an air that showed him to be in
-anything but a conciliatory mood. Without opening it, he burst forth
-angrily:
-
-“What, in the name of common sense, is this farce anyhow? What do you
-mean by leaving your work and presuming to come here, dictating terms to
-_me_?”
-
-“The paper will explain everything, sir,” replied the foremost of the
-committee. “We have our rights—or should have them. The time has come
-when we propose to get them. Will you read the petition, sir?”
-
-“No,” thundered the choleric old man. “Not in your presence. Villard,
-treat with them.” Mr. Greenough was too angry to say more.
-
-Mr. Villard, the younger superintendent, stepped forward.
-
-“I think,” he said, “that you had better leave us for a time. We shall
-need to consider your proposals, whatever they may be. Go now, and come
-again later—say at four o’clock.” Agreeing to this proposition, the five
-men turned and left the office. Mr. Villard sat down again, waiting for
-the agent to speak.
-
-“The confounded whelps!” ejaculated Mr. Greenough, as soon as he could
-find breath. “Open that paper, Villard—the impudent puppies!”
-
-Without answering, John Villard tore open the envelope, and read the
-document aloud:
-
- _Whereas_, we, the undersigned, believing that our interests demand an
- organization which shall promote and protect affairs relating to us as
- laboring men; and
-
- _Whereas_, we have already organized and maintained such a society; it
- is now unanimously agreed that we insist upon the recognition of such
- a body by our employers, and upon their making certain concessions for
- the benefit of that body.
-
- _Whereas_, there is a ten-hour system established in this state by
- law; we hereby _resolve_ that we will refuse to work ten and a half or
- eleven hours a day as has been demanded of us.
-
- _Whereas_, we believe the introduction of the new frames are
- detrimental to the interests of the mule-spinners; we _resolve_ that
- they must be taken out, and the old mules replaced, with a written
- agreement that no more of the obnoxious machinery shall be added for,
- at least, five years.
-
- _Whereas_, there has been an attempt made to reduce our wages,
- especially in the weaving department; we hereby _resolve_ that we will
- submit to no curtailment of wages, and to demand payment of all wages
- weekly, as is the custom in certain other mills in this state.
-
- Trusting that these our petitions may be granted, our rights
- respected, and that harmonious relations will soon be established
- between us, we take pleasure in signing ourselves
-
- “MEMBERS OF THE SHAWSHEEN LABOR UNION.”
-
-Before John Villard had finished reading the paper, Mr. Greenough had
-risen and was pacing the floor excitedly.
-
-“Shocking!” he exclaimed, as Mr. Villard folded the paper and returned
-it to its envelope. “Preposterous! Do they think they can impose upon me
-with such a jumble of unreasoning nonsense as that? Labor Union, indeed!
-Why, the rascals act as if there were no interests but those of labor.
-And a beautiful time they’ve taken to strike—when orders are pouring in
-faster than we can possibly keep up with them. A fine time, indeed!”
-
-“I suppose,” said John Villard, fearlessly, “there seems a slight
-injustice to them, in cutting down their wages at such a time.”
-
-“What right have they to dictate, I should like to inquire?” answered
-the irate agent. “If they were not a bigoted, unreasoning set, they’d
-know they never can serve the interests of labor in such a way. They’d
-realize that they are only biting off their own noses! They have
-probably been worked upon by some crank of an agitator. If they were not
-ignorant dogs, they’d know that they could best serve the interests of
-labor by being faithful to those of capital. Why,” he concluded, his
-face growing redder in his wrath, “is this America? Is this our boasted
-New England? Is this a free country? By Jove! I’ve heard of this sort of
-thing in England, but in this republican land, this boasted region of
-freedom—Great Scott! What are we coming to?”
-
-“It’s this accursed trades-unionism creeping in among us,” put in the
-treasurer’s mild voice, as Otis Greenough paused for breath. “I’ve been
-expecting it.”
-
-“Blast it, why didn’t you mention it then?” returned Mr. Greenough. But
-the treasurer retired in confusion behind his books and did not answer.
-
-“Well, Villard,” continued the agent, “I hope now you will give up the
-Utopian schemes you’ve been nursing for the elevation of the laboring
-classes. You see just what a foolish, unthinking, unreliable set of men
-we have to deal with.”
-
-“On the contrary, sir,” returned the second superintendent, firmly, “I
-sympathize, to a degree, with them. I agree that they have taken an
-inopportune time to enforce their views, and regret that they could not
-have seen fit to keep at work while their petition was being considered;
-and I would advise——”
-
-“I want no man’s advice until I ask it,” interrupted the elder man.
-“This is our first strike, and it shall be the last so long as I have
-authority here. Humph! They think they can intimidate me! They have
-chosen this time because they think I _must_ yield now. They little know
-me. Otis Greenough has not run the Shawsheen Mills successfully thirty
-years, to be brow-beaten and conquered in the end by a pack of ignorant
-laborers.”
-
-“But how is this to end?” asked the first superintendent, speaking for
-the first time.
-
-“It can end whenever these men will take back their impudent paper and
-go to work. Villard, when they show up again—four o’clock did you
-say?—you will tell them so. Offer them a chance to go to work to-morrow
-morning on the old terms. You needn’t give in to them one inch. Do you
-hear? Not a jot or tittle.”
-
-“And what if they do not accept?” asked Villard.
-
-“Why, advertise. Advertise far and near. Get new help. We’ll open the
-mills and run them, too, right in their very teeth. I’ll show them that
-he who has been master here for thirty years is master until he dies.”
-
-
-
-
- III.
-
-
-The choleric agent’s blood was fairly up, and he now set himself to plan
-for the coming warfare. When the committee from the labor union made its
-appearance at four o’clock, the agent refused to treat directly with
-them. He retired to his inner office, whence issued a moment later an
-“open letter to the employes of the Shawsheen Mills.” The circular was
-composed and written entirely by himself, and was quite characteristic
-of his high-handed authority. It stated that “as the control of an owner
-over his property was guaranteed by the law of the land, and was of such
-unquestionable character as ought not to be meddled with by any other
-individual or combination of individuals, the agent of the Shawsheen
-Mills, acting for their owner, would brook no such interference as had
-been attempted.” But, in bombastic language, he went on to say that, on
-account of the pressure of work, he offered to take back into the mills
-such operatives as, after a day’s idleness and a night’s calm
-reflection, might decide to come back peacefully, and accept the old
-conditions. The circular closed by adding that all returning operatives
-must renounce their connection with the new Labor Union, and stating
-that the Shawsheen Mills would be immediately re-opened.
-
-This letter, as might have been expected, only served to fan the
-smouldering embers of discord. It was taken at once to the quarters of
-the new Union, and angrily discussed. A stormy meeting was held that
-evening, and scores of new members were added to the organization, all
-unanimously agreeing, not only to keep away from the mills themselves,
-but to prevent other operatives from entering them. The trouble which
-might have been met at the outset and subdued by candid discussion and a
-fair acknowledgment on each side of the claims of the other, was changed
-into a barricade of danger between labor and capital over which a battle
-was to be fought, involving money and credit and losses on one side, and
-daily bread for two thousand people on the other.
-
-“Come,” said Otis Greenough, emerging from his “den” after the committee
-had left the office. “I want you, Villard, and you, too, Burnham,” he
-added, turning to the other superintendent, “to go with me this evening,
-to the owner of these mills, and lay before her the proceedings of the
-day, and our reasons for taking a firm stand. Although, precious little
-difference it will make with her, I imagine, how many strikes we have,
-until her income is affected! Will you be so good as to state, Villard,
-what you are smiling at.”
-
-“I was thinking, sir, that it is a queer state of affairs, when a person
-owning large and influential mills like these, need not know of the
-strike or be consulted with regard to it, until it is half over,”
-answered Villard. He had no fear of the agent, with whom he was a
-favorite, in spite of his seeming harshness. “It seems to me, if I were
-a young woman, with unlimited leisure and wealth, I should care to know
-something of so tremendous an interest as the Shawsheen Mills
-represent—that is, if I owned them.”
-
-“Ha, ha!” laughed the agent, “that shows how much of a ladies’ man you
-are, John. Much you know about the things that interest and amuse the
-young ladies. By Jove! I should laugh to see the daughter of Floyd
-Shepard meddling with the details of the great business he left her. She
-could discuss French and Italian literature, or the different schools of
-music and art, by the hour, and fairly inundate you with a flood of
-learning; but when it comes to mills—why, she don’t know a loom from a
-spinning-jenny—and don’t want to. I’m only going up there as a matter of
-form. As for advice, she knows I wouldn’t take it, even if she has any
-to offer. But courtesy—proper courtesy,” and Otis Greenough drew himself
-up to his fullest height, “and the respect we owe her as the owner of
-this property, demand that we go there this evening. I will call for you
-in my carriage at half-past seven.”
-
-And, so saying, he left the office.
-
-“I reckon the old man is about right,” said Burnham, when they were
-alone. “Miss Shepard knows no more about the practical affairs of her
-mill, than that little white kitten over there does. She’ll meet us with
-a listless, half-bored air, pretending to listen to the statements of
-our chief, and all the time be wishing us at the antipodes.”
-
-“Do you know,” interrupted John Villard, locking the door to the office
-as they left it together, “I’ve very little patience with women of that
-sort. Think, with her youth and health and money, what a directing,
-reforming force in bringing together the conflicting interests of labor
-and capital she might be! Great Heavens! I wish I had her opportunity.
-I’d make something of it.”
-
-“Oh, you are too Utopian,” replied Burnham. “It is fortunate she isn’t
-that kind. We should be overwhelmed with Schemes for the Amelioration of
-the Condition of This, That, and The Other Thing, until there would be
-nothing left but bankruptcy for all of us. No. I want no reformers in
-petticoats at the head of the Shawsheen Mills. But here I am at my
-street. Good-bye, till evening.”
-
-Salome Shepard passed a dull afternoon. Although a young woman of
-resources she found herself in no mood to enjoy any of them after lunch.
-The newest volume of essays seemed insufferably dull, and she turned for
-relief to the latest novel; but, in spite of the fact that this book was
-talked about throughout the country, she soon threw it aside with a
-wearied air and sat gazing into the blazing hickory fire.
-
-Strange! but the red-hot coals formed themselves into a group against
-the dull back-log like the groups of miserable, excited men and women of
-the morning against a background of rain and fog and muddy streets. It
-was an uncomfortable picture, and she rose suddenly, and, going into the
-music-room, seated herself at the piano. Chopin’s Nocturnes stood open
-on the rack, but she tossed them aside and began some stormy Liszt
-music, breaking off when half done and going to the window.
-
-The rain had begun to fall again and the fog had settled like a pall
-over everything farther off than the arched gateway. She wondered if all
-those people were still standing in the mud and rain.
-
-An elderly lady, with soft white hair and exquisite laces, came in.
-
-Salome ran forward, pushed her aunt’s favorite chair into the position
-she liked best, and put her into it.
-
-“Why did you stop playing? And why did you attempt that brilliant
-thing?” said Mrs. Soule. “You are so dreadfully out of practice, you
-know.”
-
-“It wasn’t that,” answered the younger woman; “I’m not in the mood for
-playing anything. I doubt if I could get through with ‘Bounding Billows’
-or the ‘Fifteenth Amusement’ to-day. Did you know, aunty, there is a
-strike down at the mills?”
-
-“A strike! Mercy, who has struck?” responded the elder in shocked tones.
-
-“Why, the operatives, of course. I don’t know why, or anything about it.
-I have never shown any interest in the mills,” she went on eagerly and
-half-apologetically, “but I should like to know what it is all about—why
-they did it—what they want, and all that. I should think Mr. Greenough
-would come up here.”
-
-“He will come as soon as he deems it proper.” Mrs. Soule’s voice was
-calmness and precision itself. “It is not nice for young ladies to mix
-themselves up in such common things.”
-
-“But, aunty,” laughed Salome, “strikes are not common things here. We
-never had one before. And I am not so very young a lady as to need the
-same careful guardianship I had when I was sixteen. I am twenty-seven
-years old.”
-
-“There is no need of saying so upon all occasions, if you are,” replied
-her aunt with some asperity. “A strike, like all things connected with,
-or originated by the ignorant laboring class, is common in the sense of
-being vulgar. Any woman, young or old, brought up as delicately and
-carefully as you have been, demeans herself by connection with such
-things. You have an agent—a manly and capable one; leave the settlement
-of such things to him.”
-
-“Oh, I’m not going to meddle with the strike. The very suggestion that I
-would wish to have anything to do with settling the difficulty makes me
-laugh.”
-
-Salome rose and began to pace the room. “But sometimes, lately, aunty,
-it has occurred to me that a young woman of average talent, with a great
-business on her hands which employs two thousand people, may have
-something to do in life more than to seek her own selfish enjoyment—a
-pursuit which, after all, is not elevating and leaves but a restless,
-unsatisfied spirit in its wake. I came across some of grandfather’s
-manuscripts two or three weeks ago and have been reading them. He wasn’t
-like papa. The mills were a part of his very self. The operatives were
-almost like so many children to him. I’ve read in his, and in other
-books, about the mill-girls of his day. Girls whose working days began
-at daylight in winter and ended at half-past seven in the evening; who
-had only two dresses to their backs, and those of Merrimack print; whose
-profits for a week, after their board was paid, were only two dollars.
-But girls who could discuss Shakespeare, Dante, and Milton at their
-looms; who read Locke and Abercrombie and Pollock and Young (something I
-can’t do!); who sent petitions to Congress for the abolition of slavery;
-who helped build churches from their pitiful savings; who wrote essays
-and poems and stories, even while running their looms; who spent their
-evenings in the study of German and French and botany; and who went out,
-at last, to become teachers and mothers and missionaries, and, above
-all, noble, self-sacrificing, helpful women. And I tell you that, with
-all my money and my polished education, I envy them.”
-
-“Salome, really, you surprise me,” exclaimed the excellent lady who was
-listening to her. “Calm yourself, my dear.”
-
-“Look at the girls in this mill—in my grandfather’s mill to-day—in my
-mill,” she went on. “Beings of bangs and bangles and cheap jewelry, of
-low aspirations, and correspondingly low morals! They are not to blame
-for their penny-dreadful lives, because they know no better. They dream
-of nothing higher than their looms and their face-powder, and their
-cheap satins and false hair—why should they? They see rich and educated
-women like us wrapped entirely in ourselves, each anxious to outshine
-the rest, and all seemingly lost in the mad race after fashionable
-attire. They do not know, poor things, that we ever think or talk of
-higher subjects. I tell you, I feel that I am, somehow, responsible for
-them. And yet, I don’t know how to help them. My grandfather could, but
-I can’t.”
-
-“I know nothing of such things,” coldly replied her aunt. “It is not
-ladylike to fly into a passion over the fancied wrongs of a lower order
-of beings. I beg that you will recollect that you are the daughter of
-Cora Le Bourdillon and Floyd Shepard.”
-
-“And more than that,” Salome whispered to herself as she sought the
-quiet of her own room, “I am afraid I am the grand-daughter of Newbern
-Shepard.”
-
-
-
-
- IV.
-
-
-It was nearly eight o’clock when carriage-wheels were heard coming up
-the graveled drive-way, and Otis Greenough and his associates were
-announced. Salome and her aunt were sitting in the music-room, and came
-forward at once; the former with an unmistakable air of eagerness.
-
-“Tell me about the strike, Mr. Greenough,” she asked, before he had
-fairly seated himself.
-
-“Oh, then, you’d heard of it, eh?” he asked.
-
-“I saw something of it this morning, driving through the town. I could
-not help knowing what it was. But why did they do it? What do they
-want?”
-
-“They did it,” and Otis Greenough sat up with a judicial air, “because
-they are rascally dogs, and do not know when they are well off. And they
-want?—well,—the earth—more pay, shorter hours, and the Lord knows what
-besides.”
-
-“Well, and why shouldn’t they have it?”
-
-The question fell like a bomb upon her surprised audience.
-
-“To be sure, I know very little of these things, practically, although I
-have taken the prescribed doses of social economy in my readings under
-Professor Townsend,” she went on; “but it has occurred to me, within a
-few days, that the laboring classes have very little control over their
-own lives, and are not much more than slaves to us who hold the reins of
-power.”
-
-“Bless me!” thought Otis Greenough, staring at her. If his office-door
-had suddenly spoken, offering him officious counsel as to his method of
-conducting the mills, he could hardly have been more surprised. “Bless
-me! No Floyd Shepard about her.”
-
-“If the operatives are poorly paid, and we are making more money than
-ever before (I think I understood you so the other day?),” the young
-woman was saying, “why shouldn’t their wages be raised? It seems but
-fair, to me.”
-
-“Much you know about it, little girl,” Mr. Greenough found voice to say,
-addressing her as he used to in by-gone days, when she occasionally
-strayed into the mills and teased to be taken through them. “Much any
-young lady of the world can know of such matters. We would not have you
-turn from being your own charming self, and become a learned
-blue-stocking, or bloomered reformer; but there are many, many reasons
-which come between the questions of profit and loss, and the petty
-details of operatives’ wages, which cannot be explained to you here and
-now. They were contented enough until some rascal or other, having
-become imbued with the spirit of these labor unions starting up all over
-the country, must needs organize one here. By Jove! I’ll employ
-detectives and hunt out the disturbing elements and shut them up. I have
-offered every mother’s son a chance to go back to work to-morrow
-morning, on condition that he drops this union business; but I am told
-to-night that not one of them will accept. Ignorant creatures! I’ll show
-’em what it means to fight a rich and strong concern like this, in the
-vain hope of bringing us to their terms.”
-
-“Meanwhile,” it was Villard who spoke, “we are to go on resisting their
-combined ignorance and impatience, and perhaps worse elements, losing
-thousands of dollars in the warfare, are we?”
-
-“Yes, rather than give in one inch to them,” answered Mr. Greenough.
-“This is the first organized strike and must be made a warning to future
-disturbers. It’s those confounded Englishmen trying to transplant their
-foreign ideas to American soil. If we give in to them now, we establish
-a bad precedent.”
-
-“I must confess,” said Villard, “that I do not see it. I have seen
-several strikes, and know that generally both sides lose sight of
-reason, and determine to fight it out regardless of cost. I am afraid,
-with the course you propose to adopt, sir, that we shall go on until the
-losses on our side or the suffering and privation on theirs will become
-unbearable; and then one side or the other will be forced to yield. If
-it should be they, a smouldering resentment will be left, ready to break
-out anew at the first convenient season. If we, they will feel
-encouraged to try still more arbitrary measures in the future. Or if a
-compromise be effected, it will be one that might as well be made
-to-morrow.”
-
-“You talk well for a young man,” admitted Mr. Greenough. “How did you
-come by your exceedingly humane and sympathetic views?”
-
-“I began as an employe myself,” answered Villard, “and I know how they
-feel to some extent. I know what it is to work at the lowest drudgery of
-a mill, and can imagine how it must seem to have no hope of ever rising
-to a higher position. Hard, unremitting toil, long hours with endless
-years of hopeless work in prospect, the lowest possible wages, a large
-and rapidly increasing family, with perhaps an aged parent or invalid
-wife to support—I tell you lots of those fellows have all that to bear,
-knowing the utter impossibility of ever saving anything, or of raising
-their own condition. I say, sir, looking at life from their standpoint,
-it’s mighty hard.”
-
-“Well, well,” put in Mr. Greenough, testily, “a great many of them want
-nothing better. They would not know what to do with a better chance for
-life, as you call it, if they had it.”
-
-“Simply put yourself in their place, sir,” said Villard. “What if you
-were forty years younger than you are, and condemned to a life of toil
-at the looms, for instance, would you not claim the right to combine
-with others of like occupation and interests and ask for a better
-chance? These men of ours have taken an unreasonable way of asserting
-themselves, but I think they are entitled to our respect, and should be
-dealt with as men. An open, fair discussion of the wage question or the
-ten-hour law can result in nothing but good for both sides.”
-
-“You are young,” Mr. Greenough replied, “and believe everything in this
-world can be made to run exactly as you want it. When you are older,
-you’ll realize better the indifference and general mulishness of the
-world, and of operatives in particular. I do not believe in meeting and
-deferring to them as equals. They are not worth our efforts, and so long
-as they are under the influence of hot-headed devils who pose as labor
-reformers, just so long we are going to see trouble.”
-
-“If we were to make a fair compromise with them,” Mr. Burnham was
-speaking for the first time, “and let them see that we, as humane
-employers, have a greater desire for their interest than any foreigner
-can have, wouldn’t it work a reaction in our favor? From a strictly
-business point of view, perhaps it would be money in our pockets.”
-
-“Yes,” urged Villard, “if we were to show ourselves willing to consider
-an intimate knowledge of their needs and thus prove ourselves their best
-friends, it would be only a case of practical philanthropy, and one
-which would raise our profits every year, I believe. It is only the
-first step that costs, you know.”
-
-“I don’t believe it,” stoutly maintained the agent. “In my day there has
-been very little talk of managers and owners deferring to their help. I
-hire my own operatives and reserve the right to raise, or lower, their
-wages as I please.”
-
-“But, Mr. Greenough,” broke in Salome eagerly, “don’t you consider their
-circumstances at all? Don’t you, for instance, in a driving time, pay
-them any higher wages than in dull times? I think there would be nothing
-but fairness in that.”
-
-“My dear young lady,” was the answer in patronizing tones, “don’t bother
-your brains with such things. You cannot understand them. Why try?”
-
-“Imagine our Salome posing as a philanthropist or a social economist,”
-interrupted Mrs. Soule’s mellifluous tones. “We had a great laugh over
-the idea this afternoon.”
-
-Salome bit her lip and said nothing.
-
-“I think,” continued her aunt in the same smooth accents, “that we have
-talked business long enough. I am sure, Mr. Greenough, that Salome is,
-and will be perfectly satisfied with any course you may see fit to adopt
-with regard to the strikers. Women, you know, ladies at least, have no
-heads for business, and we, certainly,” with an indescribable turn of
-voice on the “we”—“we, certainly, have had no training to fit us for
-reformers. And now shall we not have some music? Salome, dear, will you
-play that delightful little suite of Moscowzki’s that I like so well?”
-
-The young woman rose and, going to the piano, did as she was bid,
-although somewhat mechanically. Then Mr. Greenough proposed a song from
-Mr. Burnham, who possessed a fine baritone voice, and the evening wore
-away with music and light conversation.
-
-When the three men went home, the elder was in fine spirits, in spite of
-having been shocked and discomfited to an unusual degree, by the
-unexpected disclosure of views which he termed “strong-minded” on the
-part of the fair owner of the Shawsheen Mills.
-
-“If there should come to be hard times and perhaps destitution among the
-operatives before this difficulty is settled,” Salome said to John
-Villard as he was preparing to go, “such destitution as we read of in
-foreign countries in times of labor disturbances, I hope you will let me
-do something to relieve it. Strange as it may seem, I have a much better
-idea of such a state of affairs there than here—among my own mills.”
-
-“There will be no such state of affairs, I trust,” was his reply, “as is
-pictured in English novels.”
-
-“You have guessed accurately as to the sources of my information,” she
-laughed.
-
-He smiled too, and continued,
-
-“Meanwhile, if we pursue the policy proposed,” and he glanced at Mr.
-Greenough, who was making gallant speeches to Mrs. Soule, “you might
-keep a watchful eye on the help. You could tell, you know, by the women,
-if they came to absolute distress. Of course, there is no knowing how
-long this thing may last.”
-
-“Me! You look to me for such a thing,” and it was hard to tell whether
-her tone was amused or sarcastic only. “Why, Mr. Villard, I do not know
-one of the operatives in the mills—not even by sight. If I were to meet
-them on the main thoroughfare to-morrow I should not know them from
-other women of their class.”
-
-John Villard raised his eyebrows and turned to put on his coat without
-another word. The situation was incomprehensible to him.
-
-Salome saw this, and winced under it. She made no further attempt at
-conversation, but said good-night graciously to Mr. Greenough and the
-older superintendent, recognizing Villard’s parting nod at the door.
-
-“There,” said her aunt, as they went back into the firelight, “I hope
-they won’t feel it necessary to come here and consult with us again so
-long as the strike is on. As though you knew or cared anything for it,
-my dear! But, of course, they had to come as a matter of form. Any way,
-I’m glad it is over. Play something.”
-
-Salome complied, playing the first thing which came to her mind—the
-opening bars of the _Sonata Pathetique_.
-
-“I wish,” she said to herself as she disrobed for the night, “that I
-were a capable woman of affairs—and that John Villard were my agent.”
-
-
-
-
- V.
-
-
-Not for a week could enough new help be hired to even make a show of
-opening the Shawsheen Mills. Labor Unions were a comparatively new thing
-in this country, and were not so thoroughly organized as now; and a few
-of the old operatives, rather than starve, were glad to go back into the
-mills on any condition. But the great majority refused with indignation
-to give up their claims, and proceeded to “make things hot,” as they
-expressed it, for the “scabs” and “mudsills.”
-
-Work was attempted in the mills, although many looms stood silent and
-the spinning-mules were entirely deserted. Thread for warp was procured
-from a neighboring city at no small expense and the mills were run at a
-loss, to prove the agent’s assertion that “he would show them who was
-manager of the Shawsheen Mills.”
-
-This sort of thing was kept up four days. On the fifth morning, the
-operatives went as usual to the mill, but the machinery, after a few
-insufficient groans, gave up in despair and settled into utter quiet.
-
-What was the matter?
-
-There was a great hurrying to and fro, and a close examination of belts
-and machinery. Word was soon brought up from the basement. The engines
-had been tampered with; on each of them the belts had been cut. The
-jocularly inclined said the “engines had joined the Union;”—while
-everybody wondered what effect this stroke would have on the agent.
-
-The premises were examined and the night-watchman questioned. Evidently
-the deed had been done by some one familiar with the place, but there
-was not the slightest clue. He had done well his work, and the mills
-were stopped for repairs.
-
-Otis Greenough blustered about and cursed the whole business; but he was
-farther than ever from a compromise, declaring that he would yet beat
-them with their own weapons.
-
-The night-watch was doubled and the mills were opened again the next
-day. But the employers were fighting a desperate party and little
-calculated their strength. The man who had succeeded so well in his
-first attempt to stop the mills risked himself again; and on the second
-morning the machinery again refused to start. This time a small wheel
-had been removed from each engine and carried away. The water-wheel had
-long been in partial disuse and could not be trusted without the
-engines. Hence, there was nothing to be done but to stop again for
-repairs. This time it was a week before the engines were in running
-order. And yet, not a word passed between the agent and the strikers.
-
-The night-watch were discharged and new ones engaged. A special police
-was secured to patrol the mill-yard, and when the mills were again
-opened, it was with the avowed determination to keep them going in spite
-of every earthly power.
-
-The next morning, notwithstanding the positive assertions of police and
-night-watch that no one had been near the mills, every band connecting
-the looms to the machinery above was cut in half a dozen places. Then
-the superstitious operatives whispered among themselves that unseen
-agencies were linked with the Union, and that the strikers must succeed
-in the end; and many of the fainthearted went over to the new labor
-party.
-
-“It is of no use trying to run the mills in this way,” said Mr. Burnham.
-“We have already lost several thousand dollars. We must compromise.”
-
-“Never,” said Mr. Greenough. “The terms of Floyd Shepard’s will grant me
-absolute power here, and so long as I live, it shall never be said that
-an educated, trained and levelheaded business man was overcome by a lot
-of ignorant bullies and agitators. These Labor Unions all over the State
-need an example. There is money enough in the mill treasury to fight
-them until they starve themselves out. No other mill or corporation
-about here will hire them, and it is only a matter of weeks or months
-when absolute poverty forces them to yield. Not one inch will I give in
-to them. They shall come back as beggars, glad to accept work at even
-lower wages than they have ever had. I’ll teach them a lesson.”
-
-Geoffrey Burnham turned away full of anger that a flourishing business
-should be destroyed by one man’s obstinacy. John Villard went back to
-the silent looms, full of righteous indignation, not only at the total
-disregard of practical business interests, but at the want of humanity
-and philanthropy and Christian charity, which by his subordinate
-position he must seem to countenance.
-
-Weeks lengthened themselves into months, and still the Shawsheen Mills
-were closed.
-
-Salome Shepard, after spending the holiday season with friends in New
-York, came home, satiated with social success, and a little tired of the
-endless pursuit of pleasure. Still the mills lay idle and Otis Greenough
-refused to talk any more with her on the subject of the strike. And the
-terms of her father’s will held her powerless, even had she chosen to
-exercise her authority.
-
-But she chafed under the knowledge that two thousand people, who were in
-a sense dependent upon her for their daily bread, were out of work in
-the midst of a hard winter.
-
-One day she went to walk down among the people who were suffering, now,
-for a principle.
-
-She was amazed at the gaunt, hungry look of the old men; and
-self-accused at the pinched and wan faces of the few children who played
-in the narrow streets. Unthinking, she had put on a seal-skin cloak. It
-was a cold day, and furs, to her, were only a natural accompaniment to
-the frosts of winter.
-
-But going down the uncared-for side-walk, she rebuked herself, noting
-the single shawl and calico dress of an old woman who was wearily making
-her way a few paces in front of her. Presently the woman stopped, seized
-with a paroxysm of coughing.
-
-Salome came up with her, and looked into the white face, which told of
-hard times.
-
-“Madam,” she said, respectfully, “can I be of any assistance to you?
-Shall I not help you home?”
-
-Her tone and manner were exactly the same she would have used to any of
-her aunt’s friends. It did not occur to her to be patronizing or
-condescending.
-
-The old woman stared at her. She was not used to being addressed as
-“Madam.”
-
-“Yes’m,” she said, presently. “I live up to the other end of the street.
-If the cough wasn’t so bad, an’ my side didn’t ketch me so! But if I can
-git back to my own chair ag’in——”
-
-Another fit of coughing seized her, and interrupted the “garrulousness
-of uncultured old age.” Salome waited until she got breath again and
-then took her by the arm, accommodating her steps to the feebler ones.
-
-Here and there a surprised face peered curiously at her through a dirty
-window, knowing who she was, and wondering that she condescended to walk
-with old Granny Lancaster. Everywhere a general air of poverty, perhaps
-of actual hunger, impressed this woman, who had inherited the
-tumble-down tenement houses on each side.
-
-“I beg your pardon,” she said, “but do you eat nourishing food enough?
-Good beef-steak and roast-beef would help your cough more than
-medicine.”
-
-The old woman laughed, a grating, cackling laugh.
-
-“Beef-steak and roast-beef ain’t for the likes o’ me,” she said. “Meat
-of any kind ain’t for us in times o’ strikes. May the Lord above send us
-oatmeal enough to keep us through till the mills open ag’in is all I
-ask. Here’s my house. Much ’bleeged, lady.”
-
-Salome wanted to go inside the rickety old door and follow the woman up
-the dirty stairway, but she did not say so, and the old woman hobbled up
-the steps without asking her in.
-
-Salome felt impulsively in her pocket, and drawing out her
-porte-monnaie, emptied its contents into the dirty, emaciated palm of
-Granny Lancaster. Then she turned and walked rapidly back home.
-
-The next day Otis Greenough called on her.
-
-“My dear,” he said, after an hour or two passed in desultory
-conversation, “may I beg that you will keep away from the operatives?
-Impulsive and injudicious charity does them more harm than anything
-else. No doubt the part of Lady Bountiful seems a pleasant and desirable
-one, but, just now, you are not fitted for it.”
-
-“What do you mean, sir?” asked she in a puzzled tone.
-
-“For instance,” he went on, “the money you gave a certain old woman on
-the corporation yesterday was taken by her son-in-law last night, and
-furnished him an opportunity for a glorious old drunk. I beg your pardon
-for using their phraseology. He was arrested before morning for
-drunkenness and disorderly conduct.”
-
-“I do not comprehend,” she stammered. “The woman said they had no meat.
-She was actually suffering for nourishing food. I gave the money,
-impulsively it is true, but that they need not go hungry.”
-
-“Now, you see, my dear,” he answered, “just how much encouragement one
-gets in trying to do anything for the laboring classes. They turn upon
-you and use the goodness of your heart and your generous motives to drag
-themselves down to a lower depth of degradation. Good-day, my dear, and
-don’t be led away by your feelings.”
-
-Salome stood looking after him, heart-sick and discouraged. The
-world—her part of it, at least—was all wrong, and she, with plenty of
-money and an awakening desire to help, was powerless. She ordered the
-pony phaeton again and started for a drive. She obeyed a sudden impulse
-to go through the factory precincts. There were evidences of a
-suppressed excitement. Knots of desperate-looking men stood about. But
-they hushed their voices as she drew near, and stood in sullen silence
-as she passed.
-
-“There is evidently something in the wind,” she thought, urging the pony
-to quicken his pace.
-
-She did not know that the committee from the Labor Union had that
-morning made a third attempt to treat with her agent and failed.
-
-“No compromise,” was still his watchword.
-
-“I’ll send for Marion Shaw,” she said to herself, on her way home an
-hour later. “She is a practical, sensible, business-like woman. Perhaps
-she will know of some way to help me to help others. And she needs
-rest.”
-
-This idea so inspired her that she arrived home quite elated, and stated
-her plan to Mrs. Soule at dinner-time with much animation.
-
-But later in the evening, the groups of men she had seen on “the
-corporation” came back to her mind and caused her a certain feeling of
-uneasiness. What had they been talking about so excitedly as she drew
-near?
-
-It was one of those suddenly warm nights in January that succeed, in our
-fickle climate, a bitter cold day, and Salome felt an unaccountable
-desire to be in the open air. She threw on a warm wrap and hood, and
-saying nothing, went out on the piazza, and crossed the lawn to a
-favorite walk of hers in summer—a path under a long group of fir-trees
-down by the street at the back of the house.
-
-After a few turns, she heard a peculiar whistle which was answered by
-another.
-
-She withdrew still more into the shadow and waited. Presently two men
-met.
-
-“Well, what’s the news?” eagerly asked one.
-
-“Sh—sh! not so loud,” replied the other. “It’s all right, and better
-than we expected.”
-
-“Why—how better?” asked the first.
-
-They spoke lower, so that Salome could scarcely catch the tones.
-
-“Because,” the first was saying, “the old man himself has gone down to
-the mill.”
-
-“Whe—e—w!”
-
-“Yes. What on earth possessed him? But then that’s none of our affairs.
-If he wants to run the risk of losing his life—that’s his business, not
-mine.”
-
-“Well, but,” and the first voice had a timid note, “that’s going too
-far—we were only to blow up the mill—not to kill anybody.”
-
-“Can’t help that. Fifteen minutes more, if everything works well, and
-old man Greenough’s day is over. Jim’s just about lighting the fuse, I
-reckon, now. It’s an awful long one, but the fire’ll creep round there
-in time.”
-
-“What about the police?”
-
-“He’s all right. We’ve fixed him.”
-
-The voices grew fainter and ceased altogether, only the dull sound of
-the men’s footsteps reaching her as they passed down the hill away from
-the grounds.
-
-Salome stood an instant, rooted to the spot. What was this horrible
-thing she had heard?
-
-The factory to be blown up?
-
-She must go for help.
-
-And Mr. Greenough down there, risking his life?
-
-No. There was no time to get help.
-
-“Fifteen minutes more, if everything works well, and old man Greenough’s
-day is over.”
-
-The whole plot flashed across her bewildered brain. She dashed through
-the back-gate and down the deserted street towards the mills. It was a
-ten minutes’ walk across that way, but she ran,—flew,—tore down the
-lonely road in less than half that time.
-
-Otis Greenough might be an unreasonable, hot-headed, obstinate agent,
-but he was her father’s friend and had loved and petted her when she was
-a motherless child.
-
-What could she do? Raise an alarm? Call for help? Rouse everybody?
-
-But the fuse was already lighted.
-
-Where was it?
-
-Under the office window most likely, since they knew that the old agent
-was in there.
-
-She came in sight of that window. There was a dim light there. All else
-was dark. The south wind moaned dismally.
-
-She hurried faster and came nearer the office window. Under it was
-another window with a broken pane, from which hung something she
-instantly divined as the fuse.
-
-Yes. A fiery spark crept closer and closer to the wall.
-
-By the time she reached the window it was out of her reach.
-
-Oh, God! could she do nothing?
-
-She had been sewing on some dainty trifle earlier in the evening, and a
-pair of small scissors still hung at her waist.
-
-Closer drew the spark of fire to the broken window pane, whence it would
-disappear to work its fearful errand. It seemed to twinkle and mock at
-her in fiendish delight. She grasped the jutting window-frame and jumped
-upon the broad sill.
-
-Thank God, she had it at last. One snip of her scissors, and the spark
-of fire dropped harmlessly to the ground. She turned slightly to step
-off the window-ledge. Her foot slipped and she fell, a white, faint heap
-upon the ground.
-
-
-
-
- VI.
-
-
-When she opened her eyes again, not only Otis Greenough but John Villard
-and an office-boy were bending anxiously over her.
-
-“My dear girl,” the agent was saying, “bless me, my dear, what is it?
-How came you here and who has harmed you?”
-
-“Don’t be alarmed, sir,” was her reply, as she got on her feet; and
-then, somewhat excitedly, she told the events of the last fifteen or
-twenty minutes, interrupted, every other sentence, by such ejaculations
-as, “Great Scott,” “Bless me,” “The rascals,” “Confound them,” from the
-elderly man, while the younger one listened in silent amazement.
-
-Rapid search was made and the night-watch was found sleeping, in a
-stupor which was evidently the work of a drug; while the police were, as
-usual, nowhere to be found.
-
-Salome was taken into the office—not without inward trembling, as she
-feared further evidences of the miscreants.
-
-Mr. Villard soon reported two kegs of gunpowder and a small dynamite
-bomb in the room below, at the same time congratulating, most heartily,
-the young woman who had saved their lives as well as the mills.
-
-But her courage was now at a low ebb, and, woman-like, she shivered at
-the close proximity of gunpowder, and begged to be taken home.
-
-Mr. Greenough, who had come to realize the danger to himself and to the
-mills which his obstinacy had provoked, was also anxious to leave the
-premises and glad to accompany Salome home.
-
-John Villard, meanwhile, attended to the duty of finding new watchmen
-who should be reliable,—a difficult task. Against his will, he promised
-Salome not to sleep at the mills, as he had been doing since the
-machinery had been tampered with.
-
-Salome was nearly prostrated when she reached home, and had but little
-strength left with which to importune the agent to consent to any terms
-for a settlement; but as the old man was, for once, thoroughly
-frightened, it was not difficult to exact a promise that he would
-consider a compromise.
-
-Mrs. Soule, when she learned of Salome’s intrepidity,—set forth as it
-was by Mr. Greenough’s gratitude and gallant appreciation,—was greatly
-concerned for her niece and put her straightway to bed, where, in fact,
-she had supposed her to be for the past hour, and where she wept over
-and caressed her as she had not done since the girl had left home for
-boarding-school. And then, what was far more to the purpose, she gave
-her a bath of alcohol and olive oil, and soothed her to sleep.
-
-Early the next morning the agent of the Shawsheen Mills sent a messenger
-over to the dingy room which served as headquarters for the Labor Union,
-begging for an interview.
-
-As this was the first overture of peace from his side, it was natural
-that it should be hailed with glee by the officers of the Union. And
-although, the day before, the leaders of the strike had been closeted
-together in a serious debate as to how much they should yield to
-Capital, they now unanimously agreed not to “weaken” in the smallest
-degree.
-
-As for the agent, he had been persuaded to yield every point demanded by
-the strikers, insisting only upon the one condition, that the Labor
-Union should be disbanded.
-
-The question of ten hours he granted without a murmur. He quibbled a
-long time over the wage question, and the subject of weekly payments,
-and only on seeing the dogged determination of the laborers did he come
-to terms on that. But he very properly, and too peremptorily, refused to
-remove the spinning frames which had formed one subject of contention.
-And then he proceeded to overthrow the good effects of what concessions
-he had made, by violently denouncing all labor unions, and vigorously
-insisting that the one known as the Shawsheen Labor Union be immediately
-and forever disbanded.
-
-“Never,” said the foremost of the committee, “will we submit to so
-arbitrary a demand. We have a perfect right to organize our forces and
-assert our claims. How can we—a band of day-laborers,—dependent on
-capital for a bare living, win a single cause for ourselves without
-combinations of this kind? There are scores of questions which involve
-not our welfare in one way alone, but our health, our wages, our morals,
-our manhood, which we, as single individuals, can never cope with, but
-which, as a united force, we can adjust. Besides, in all departments of
-labor, the women and children equal or exceed the men. There are to-day
-one hundred and seventy-five thousand more women working in mills than
-there were ten years ago; and what are they but the weakest and most
-dependent of employes? They have no strength to agitate; they have no
-power to change any existing order of things. All they can do is to toil
-and submit. We owe it to them as men, as husbands, brothers, and sons,
-to lighten their burdens. As free American citizens we owe it to
-ourselves, to settle the conditions of our own lives, so far as may be.
-This can only be done by combinations of the laboring classes strong
-enough to compel manufacturers to concede us our rights.”
-
-“You are right to a degree,” answered Villard, before Mr. Greenough
-could swallow his surprise at hearing such sentiments from one of his
-operatives; “I believe there are some rights which you can only secure
-by a combination of your forces as working-men. But when you let reason
-lose its sway, and passion take its place; when you are influenced by
-unworthy demagogues and unbalanced cranks, and seek to effect by strikes
-and such arbitrary measures what might be better secured by a more
-conciliatory course, you must not be surprised if you do not succeed in
-bull-dozing a rich concern like this into obedience, and——”
-
-“And when, by your —— labour unions, you sink so low as to countenance
-incendiarism and murder—yes, sirs—that is what you attempted last night,
-sirs,—you can’t expect this mill is going to countenance them. I’ll see
-you all starve and rot first,” and Otis Greenough’s face was purple with
-anger.
-
-“We have already disclaimed all knowledge in our Union, sir,” said one
-of the committee, “of last night’s outrage.”
-
-“Blast it, what do I care for that?” roared the agent, as usual, out of
-temper. “Whether you knew it or not, it was done under cover of your
-strike, and your Union, and was one of the precious outgrowths of it.
-Give up the —— thing, I say—or there is no compromise with these mills.”
-
-“There is little use in prolonging this interview, I am afraid,” said
-the first of the committee, taking up his hat.
-
-“Impudent dogs!” said Mr. Greenough, as Villard tried to speak, anxious
-to put things on a more satisfactory basis before the meeting closed.
-“Let them go. They’ll find hard hoeing before they reach the end of
-their row.”
-
-“And, sir,” retorted a fiery-looking man who had not spoken before, “if
-it comes to open war you’ll find us tough customers. We shall fight it
-out like men, even if we starve like beasts.”
-
-And with these words the committee departed, leaving matters worse than
-ever before in the affairs of the Shawsheen Mills.
-
-In vain did the two superintendents plead and argue and threaten the
-choleric old agent. His blood was up and he was a veritable charger on
-the eve of battle. There was no state board of arbitration then, and
-therefore no available way of settling their difficulties except among
-themselves. And as discussion only made matters worse, the subject which
-was always uppermost in these three men’s minds was tacitly dropped.
-Every precaution was taken to insure the mills from the danger it had
-escaped the night before, and a detective was obtained from Boston to
-hunt out the criminals who had perpetrated the dastardly act.
-
-At noon, they were all surprised by a note from Miss Shepard. It ran as
-follows:
-
- “DEAR MR. GREENOUGH,
-
- “As the owner of the Shawsheen Mill property, I hereby appoint a
- meeting of all its officers at my house, to-night. Please have them
- here at eight o’clock.
-
- “Pardon me for the liberty I have seemed to take, and believe me ever
- a loving and respectful friend,
-
- “SALOME SHEPARD.”
-
-“Well, you hear that, boys,” said Mr. Greenough, after reading it aloud.
-“Be on hand. Tell the treasurer and cashier and head book-keeper. We’ll
-all be there. The Lord only knows what she is up to; but if that young
-woman hasn’t got a level head on her shoulders, then I don’t know who
-has.”
-
-“I reckon you’re right, sir,” echoed Mr. Burnham, while John Villard
-laughed in his sleeve at the young woman who evidently dreamed of
-settling a prolonged strike. “Why,” he said to himself, “she has never
-known enough of the practical side of mill-life to recognize one of her
-operatives, and hardly knows the different brands of cloth manufactured
-by them.”
-
- * * * * *
-
-Salome Shepard had waked at an early hour that morning and found herself
-unable to sleep again. Her mind was alive with gratitude for the part
-she had been able to play the night before, with apprehension for the
-future, and with increasing self-accusation for the state of things in
-the Shawsheen Mills, both past and present.
-
-“Pshaw!” she said to herself while dressing, true to her habit of
-communing with her own conscience in default of a visible mentor, “how
-can I be blamed for the state of things here? The entire business of the
-mills was put out of my hands by my father’s will. I could have done no
-differently.”
-
-“You could,” replied that sternest of modern inquisitors—a New England
-conscience. “It was in your power to see that the moral and physical
-condition of these people was improved and cultivated. It was in your
-power to give them better homes and more privileges. It was in your
-power to raise their standards of life and to create new ones. But you
-have ignored their very existence, and let them live a mean and sordid
-life of unremitting toil, in order to furnish you with money to live a
-selfish life of luxurious ease.”
-
-Salome tied the blue ribbons to her wrapper, and giving her crimps a
-last touch went down to breakfast.
-
-Knowing she would be opposed, she said nothing of her plans for the
-morning to her aunt, but simply announced, after they had left the
-table, that she was going for a long walk.
-
-Then she went upstairs and put on the plainest costume she owned (which,
-by the way, was a tailor-made gown that had cost her one hundred and
-fifty dollars), and started for the tenement houses where her operatives
-lived.
-
-It did not occur to her to feel any fear; nor that the miscreants who
-had planned the explosion for the previous night might be watching her
-footsteps. She felt it incumbent upon her to see for herself exactly how
-these people lived, and what they were bearing and suffering in
-consequence of the strike.
-
-In the bright glare of the morning sun, the tenement houses had never
-looked so dingy and mean. They were built in Newbern Shepard’s day, and
-had received but very few repairs since that time. Although it was cold
-January weather, Salome counted a dozen panes of glass gone from the
-first house, and noticed that the lower hinge to the front door was
-broken. It was a two-story wooden building with four tenements of four
-rooms each.
-
-She ascended the rickety steps and rapped on the door. One of the women
-saw her from a front window and came to the door, holding it open only
-so far as to permit her to see the strange caller.
-
-“Good-morning,” said Salome in pleasant tones.
-
-“Good-morning, miss.” The politeness of Salome’s manner thawed the other
-woman, and the door opened a little wider. “Will you walk in?”
-
-That was precisely what she had come for, and Salome stepped inside with
-alacrity. She found herself in the sitting-room and living-room of the
-family. It was a meager home. The remnant of a faded oil-cloth was on
-the floor. The walls were unpapered and devoid of any attempts at
-ornament, except one unframed, dilapidated old lithograph of “The Queen
-of the West,”—a buxom young woman with disproportionately large black
-eyes, a dress of bright scarlet cut extremely _décolleté_, and cheeks of
-a yet more vivid hue. A pine table covered with a stamped red cloth was
-littered with cheap, trashy story-papers and pamphlets addressed “To the
-Laboring Men of America.” An old lounge, with broken springs, and six
-common wooden chairs constituted the other furnishings of the room.
-
-Salome’s first thought as she looked about her was:
-
-“I don’t wonder these people get discontented and clamor for something
-which seems to them better.”
-
-But she found, before the forenoon was over, many houses that were not
-so pleasant as this. For, once inside these rooms, everything was neat
-and clean, and the woman who answered her questions was civil if not
-talkative.
-
-She found that five people lived in these four small rooms: this woman,
-her two daughters, a son-in-law, and a grandchild. She also found that
-the other tenements contained five, six, and seven people, making
-twenty-three in all. There were absolutely no sanitary arrangements, and
-she discovered that the sanitation of this tenement house district
-consisted only of surface drainage. According to the statements of her
-hostess, there was nearly always somebody “ailing” in these houses.
-
-The first house she went into was a fair sample of the remainder. A few
-were slightly better, but more were in a worse condition. In most
-instances she was respectfully received, although at three houses she
-was met by ungracious people, and received gruff replies to her
-kindly-put inquiries.
-
-Everywhere, strong, able-bodied men were lounging about in enforced
-idleness; and one of them, resenting, with true American independence,
-this intrusion into the sacred precincts of his miserable home, plainly
-intimated that “they was well enough off now, and didn’t want no rich
-folks as was livin’ on money _they_ earned, to come pryin’ round their
-houses.” Finally, at the last of the tenement houses she was met by a
-surly, burly mule-spinner, who gruffly refused her admittance.
-
-Nothing daunted, however, she sought out a boarding-house for the young
-women of the mills. The landlady, recognizing her, invited her in and
-willingly told her all about the life of mill-girls, offering, at last,
-to show her their rooms.
-
-Salome gladly accepted and followed the woman up bare, unpainted stairs
-to the rooms on the second and third floors. These were small and
-perfectly bare of comforts, almost of necessities. The floors were
-uncarpeted and guiltless of paint, or even of a very recent application
-of soap and water. They had no closets. A common pine bedstead—sometimes
-two of them—in each room, two chairs, in one of which stood a tin basin,
-while beside it on the floor stood a bucket of water, and a small
-bureau, made up the sum total of the furniture. In only one room did
-Salome see any evidences of a literary taste, and that, if she had known
-it, was a cheap paper, the worst of the sensational class.
-
-Salome’s heart sank within her. She no longer wondered that the
-mill-girls of to-day were a discontented, ignorant set, nor that many of
-them sank into lives of degradation.
-
-“The rooms are good enough for the girls,” said the woman, noticing the
-look of disgust on Salome’s tell-tale face. “They seem poor enough to
-elegant ladies like you. But these girls know no better. And they are
-good enough to sleep off a drunk in,” she added, roughly.
-
-“You don’t mean to say,” asked her guest, “that any of your girls get
-intoxicated?”
-
-“Intoxicated? I don’t know what else you’d call it, when they have to be
-helped in at eleven o’clock Saturday night, and put to bed, and don’t
-get up again until Monday morning.”
-
-Salome was sick with pity and shame for her sex. She no longer
-questioned whether she had a mission toward these, her people.
-
-She went home and wrote the note to Mr. Greenough, given in an earlier
-part of this chapter.
-
-
-
-
- VII.
-
-
-Promptly, at the hour named, Otis Greenough, accompanied by the other
-officers of the mill, appeared at the mansion of the Shepard family.
-
-Tall, beautiful, and always impressive in her bearing, Salome was at her
-best to-night. The fire of a new-born purpose was in her face, and a new
-force, born of spiritual struggles, stamped upon her brow.
-
-There are people who can look calmly upon a sunset, and see nothing but
-a glare of red and yellow light. There are others who see in it a
-glorious picture with matchless tints and shadows. There are yet others,
-fewer, indeed, than the rest, but who hold the secret of God’s holy
-purpose written more or less plainly in their souls; who see not only
-the glare of red and yellow light, whose brilliant tints and deep tones
-make an unrivaled picture, but who read something of the deeper meanings
-of the Great Artist; who receive into their own hearts some part of the
-glowing light which strengthens purpose, and crystallizes hopes and
-ideals hitherto dreamy and undefined.
-
-Salome Shepard had stood at a western window at sunset. In the hush and
-stillness of the hour, the poet-quality of her soul had interpreted to
-her the meaning of life and the great fact of human brotherhood. And
-when she finally drew the curtains on the deepening night, she felt that
-a sudden revelation had come to her—that, at last, her life purpose, in
-the shape of a sternly defined duty, stood revealed.
-
-“Well,” said Mr. Greenough, after a few moments of aimless conversation,
-for nobody seemed desirous of taking the initiative, “what are you going
-to do with us all to-night, little girl? Don’t you think you rather
-usurp the privileges of an old man in calling together a meeting to
-discuss business, of which he is the legal head? Come, give an account
-of yourself and your quixotic actions.”
-
-“Oh, I beg that none of you will think that.” And Salome looked around
-the room appealingly. “I simply wished that we might have a fair and
-honest talk. I want every one here to express his views. And I want to
-express mine—for at last, thank heaven, I have some.”
-
-“Getting strong-minded, eh?” retorted Mr. Greenough. “Well, go on. I
-suppose you want to practice on us before taking a larger field. Going
-to take the suffrage platform? or build school-houses for the niggers?
-Or do you aspire to the bureau of Indian Affairs? Which is it?”
-
-“None of them,” responded Salome, inwardly resenting the untimely jest,
-but determined not to show her impatience. “None of them. I propose to
-begin nearer home. I propose to go to work, earnestly, and I hope
-practically, to raise the condition, morally, mentally and physically,
-of my own factory-people.”
-
-“Bravo!” exclaimed Villard and the head book-keeper.
-
-“And I have called you here,” pursued Salome, “to ask each and every one
-of you to be my assistant and coadjutor. I have not been thinking of
-nothing, during the last three months. I am a woman, comparatively
-young, and with absolutely no knowledge of the practical side of a
-working-man’s life. But I have been thinking, and my conclusions are
-these: that a strike is a much more serious matter for the
-working-people than it is for us. We act as if they go out on a strike
-either to annoy us or to have a good time. I have been down among
-them—sought the by-ways and hedges, as it were—and I tell you they are
-having anything but a good time. This strike is the outcome of want and
-privation, and it has brought the people to still greater want and
-privation. I believe they are not a set of noisy malcontents on the
-lookout for an opportunity to create a disturbance. On the contrary,
-they see in this course the only chance of bringing before the public
-questions of vital importance to them. They earn their bread by the
-sweat of their brow—and not always good bread either,—while we, as
-capitalists, are hoarding up money. At the most, they get very little of
-what their work really yields. I desire, above all things, sir, that you
-grant their desires and no longer require them to give up their Labor
-Union. Capitalists have their Board of Trade, which virtually amounts to
-the same thing. Let the workmen have their one chance to assert
-themselves by a combination of their forces. And let each side show to
-the other that tolerance and Christian charity which each demands from
-the other.”
-
-“What about the tolerance and Christian charity of the outrage they
-tried to perpetrate last night?” asked Mr. Greenough.
-
-“I do not believe the Labor Union is responsible for that,” replied
-Salome, with a far-seeing sympathy in her eyes. “Unfortunately it was an
-outgrowth of their opinions, passions and prejudices. But you must
-confess, sir, that had you met them with the tolerance which the growing
-spirit of the age demands, there is little likelihood that matters would
-ever have reached the point where such an action could have been
-planned. I want this strike ended on any terms. I want to see the
-operatives, every one of them, at work again at fair wages. And then,
-God helping me, I propose to do something for their elevation—something
-to help them live better, cleaner, manly and womanly lives—something
-which shall carry out my grandfather’s noble plans, and help make the
-factory system of New England one of her grandest achievements.”
-
-“Miss Shepard is right,” said Mr. Burnham: “our factory, like many
-another, has been run too long on the system of _laissez-faire_. I have
-come to believe in a political economy which insists upon the liveliest
-activity on the part of capitalists, to put their employes upon the best
-possible footing as to the material surroundings of life; that they have
-all the advantage as to health, morals and happiness which comes from
-sanitary regulation and practical education. I believe that only when we
-adopt such a political economy as this shall we draw the largest
-possible dividends from the products of a community comparatively free
-from crime, intemperance, poverty and vice of every kind.”
-
-“Yes,” urged Villard, “each one of us, laborer or capitalist, has duties
-to perform which cannot be shirked or shifted to the shoulders of
-Fate—another name for the theory of _laissez-faire_. The new political
-economy will demand that every one who, in his or her public or private
-capacity, can do anything to relieve misery, to combat evil, to redress
-wrong, to assert the right, shall do so with heart and soul.”
-
-“You see,” said Salome, delighted that two strong, thinking men thus
-endorsed and voiced her sentiments, “we have been acting on the Quaker’s
-advice to his son: ‘Make money—honestly if you can; but make money.’ We
-have forgotten that Christianity says: ‘Thou shalt love thy neighbor as
-thyself,’ ‘Do unto others as ye would that men should do unto you,’
-‘Bear one another’s burdens,’ and ‘Love one another.’ But we have
-practically said: ‘Love thyself; seek thine own advantage; promote thine
-own welfare; put money in thy purse; the welfare of others is not thy
-business.’”
-
-“I must confess,” answered Otis Greenough, speaking slowly and huskily,
-“that I cannot, after a life-long devotion to old-fashioned ideas, take
-any stock in these new-fangled, impracticable ones. I cannot, at my time
-of life, change my ideas; and neither can I endorse your proposition to
-make a public spectacle of ourselves in the future. Mills are run to
-make money. So long as I hold the position imposed upon me by the late
-Floyd Shepard, so long shall I refuse to countenance extravagance and
-quixotism. But I am an old man. No one cares any longer what I think. It
-is the young people with no experience whose opinions count nowadays. I
-am an old man who has had his day——”
-
-“Don’t, I beg of you, sir, talk like that,” interrupted Salome. “We do
-value your opinion; we do intend to refer to your judgment; we——”
-
-“What is that?” cried Mrs. Soule in alarm, from her seat near the
-window.
-
-“It is some one throwing gravel against the panes,” said the cashier as
-a second shower came rattling against the window. He parted the curtains
-and looked out.
-
-“The grounds are full of men. We are mobbed, by George!”
-
-The old agent’s blood was up in a moment, and regardless of the presence
-of ladies he swore in good, set terms, that the rascals should be
-arrested and imprisoned for this.
-
-Then, unconscious of danger, in spite of the attempts of Villard and the
-rest to hold him back, he marched, like an old hero, boldly out on to
-the veranda which faced a crowd of excited workmen.
-
-They had held a stormy meeting at the Labor Union, and the worst element
-among them had become desperate, and swore to “bring the old man to
-terms.” They had gone in a body to the mills, where they hoped to find
-some of their employers in consultation. There they had found that the
-whole force of their opponents had gone to the great Shepard Mansion.
-Nothing daunted, they turned their steps thither, and at every street
-corner were joined by the element of hoodlumism which is always
-scattered about over the streets of a large and poorly-governed town.
-
-Hence the mob that confronted the officers of the Shawsheen Mills held
-all the elements of danger and disturbance.
-
-When Otis Greenough’s bald head appeared before them, the crowd set up a
-yell of mingled derision and defiance.
-
-“Give us our rights, old Baldy” shouted one voice.
-
-“Give us fair play and fair wages,” called another, while worse epithets
-were hurled at him, from the roughs in the rear.
-
-Otis Greenough’s face was purple.
-
-“This is outrageous!” he exclaimed in hot haste. “What right have you to
-come here and defile an honest citizen’s premises with your wretched,
-polluting presence?”
-
-“Stop that, now!” shouted one of the leaders. “Fair play all round. If
-you won’t come to us, we’ll come to you, and compel you to make terms,
-and decent ones, with us. We want——”
-
-But the crowd of street idlers who had come in search of excitement, and
-not argument, grew restless, and broke in noisily; and when Otis
-Greenough opened his mouth to speak again, he was struck squarely in the
-face by a handful of gravel and mud.
-
-Then a sudden hush fell over the mob.
-
-For what was this unexpected white form which appeared in the doorway,
-and advanced to meet them?
-
-Salome was dressed in a clinging, white, soft serge, with falls of fine
-lace at the neck and wrists, and under the dim light of the piazza-lamp,
-she seemed like an angel of retribution, her eyes flaming reproach, and
-her hands raised in deprecation.
-
-“Aren’t you ashamed of yourselves?” she burst forth, in ringing tones.
-“You, who call yourselves honest men, and loyal citizens! You who come
-here with a claim for fair play, you who come here to assert the right
-of every American to be treated with respect by every other; to insult
-and maltreat an old man with white hair—a man whom, as a long associate
-in your work, you should honor? Do you come to my house to call forth a
-man who was even now listening to plans for the improvement of your
-homes and lives and prospects, simply that you may turn yourselves into
-a pack of dogs to bark at him? Go home. Lay aside your prejudices and
-your low, unworthy passions, and think whether we be entirely in the
-wrong. Think whether you are showing yourselves worthy of being trusted?
-Go home and weigh calmly your conduct against that of these officers,
-and decide for yourselves whether you deserve to be met half-way. And I
-give you my word of honor as owner of the Shawsheen Mills, that when you
-decide to behave like men and not like beasts, you shall be treated as
-men. You shall have good places with good pay. You shall find that we
-are willing to do as much as—yes, more, than you are willing to do for
-us, and that we will meet you half-way in the open, fair discussion of
-all points connected with the labor question.”
-
-“Three cheers for the lady!” shouted a hoodlum, who cared not which side
-he was on, provided he could make a noise.
-
-But the cheers were stayed, and further demonstration was choked in
-utterance. For Otis Greenough fell suddenly at the feet of the woman who
-stood there boldly championing him and her sense of right.
-
-The superintendent carried him quickly within and put him on a sofa; a
-physician was hastily summoned, and in a few words Villard dismissed the
-mob, now hushed and awe-stricken.
-
-But Otis Greenough in one moment had passed beyond the disturbances of
-howling malcontents, beyond the petty smallness of his old-fashioned and
-cramped ideas, out into that world where there is no fear of anarchy and
-socialism, no disgrace in being a philanthropist, no bounds to the heart
-of love for all mankind, and no limits to the horizon of a larger,
-diviner life.
-
-
-
-
- VIII.
-
-
-Death is never fully realized until he is an actual presence; and Otis
-Greenough’s sudden demise before their eyes and almost under, if not by,
-their own hands, solemnized and terrified the mob, and brought the
-strikers to a sense of the desperate pass to which they had come.
-
-The members of the Labor Union laid their grievances aside for the time,
-and paid every mark of respect to the old agent now that he had passed
-beyond the recognition of it. A sudden fit of apoplexy had blotted out
-his choleric and intolerant behavior, and left only the remembrance that
-he had been their head for many years.
-
-But when he had been laid away in the new cemetery on Shepard Hill, the
-smouldering embers of discord began again to break forth into hot flames
-of prejudice and passion.
-
-Geoffrey Burnham and John Villard were consulting together in the mill
-office the day after the funeral, when the door opened and the owner of
-the mills walked in.
-
-“I have come,” she said, in answer to their ill-concealed surprise, “to
-talk over the situation of the strike. I want the mills re-opened.”
-
-“We shall be only too happy to comply with your wishes, Miss Shepard,”
-said Burnham, placing a chair in a comfortable light for her. “Upon what
-terms do you propose it?”
-
-“I want to compromise,” she answered, “and give them a better chance
-than they have ever had. It may take us some time to decide on the exact
-terms. Would it be better, do you think,”—she unconsciously turned to
-Villard—“to take them back on the old terms, re-instate them precisely
-as they were, and then go on and make our changes?”
-
-“That would hardly do,” he replied. “Experience has proved them very
-jealous of new methods, and unwilling to consent to untried theories. If
-we yield everything they demand now, we shall establish a bad precedent;
-eh, Burnham?”
-
-“Decidedly, and we shall meet with opposition if we undertake any
-changes. If there is to be a remodeling of the old system, it had better
-come now.”
-
-“There must be a remodeling, it seems to me,” urged Salome. “Dear Mr.
-Greenough acted wisely, so far as he could, no doubt; but I feel that
-the time is come to make decided changes here. Perhaps I am not very
-clear in regard to them, even in my own mind. But I have some idea of
-what I want, and I shall be glad to have you both state your convictions
-and objections, if you have them, relating to everything I propose.”
-
-“It will be no light matter,” said Burnham, “to select a plan and
-perfect it at once. It must be a work of time and much thought. Still,
-what is your idea?”
-
-“I want to put the relations between us and the employes,” Salome went
-on, “on a better footing—an ethical basis, if you like the term. We must
-combine the question ‘Will it pay?’ with a higher one, ‘Is it right?’”
-
-The two men looked at each other. Burnham bit his lip.
-
-“I do not propose to promise the people an era of absolute prosperity
-and uninterrupted progress, and let them take it as a blind destiny
-without exertion or sacrifice or patriotism on their part. I want to
-teach them to be healthy, intelligent, and virtuous citizens, and to
-expect from us the treatment such citizens deserve. I believe that such
-a course is for the pecuniary interests of the mill, as well as for
-theirs. I have heard enough of the conflicting interests of labor and
-capital; and on the other hand I do not believe in the twaddle that
-proclaims them one. I believe they are reciprocal, and that we must take
-that idea as fundamental.”
-
-“You propose a radical change, I fear.” Geoffrey Burnham’s tone held a
-new respect for this woman whom he had believed wrapped up in the toils
-of worldly and shallow aims.
-
-“Yes, I may as well own it; I do,” assented Salome. “Among my
-grandfather’s manuscripts, I came across, the other day, these
-sentences: ‘I would like to prove my luminous ideal of what a
-superintendent may be among his people. I would like to live long enough
-to show the world that the spirit of the Crucified may rule in a
-cotton-mill as fully as in the life of a saint.’ That sentence,
-gentlemen, must speak for me. In those words lies the germ of my plan of
-action.”
-
-Silence followed her. Geoffrey Burnham told himself that a new era must
-be dawning,—the era foreshadowing the millennium, since she who held the
-power could so bravely avow her intentions to make the Shawsheen Mills
-an experiment in what he called Christian socialism. But John Villard,
-after a moment, rose and extended his hand to Salome.
-
-“I pledge my hearty co-operation,” he said, “and thank God for the
-opportunity to prove what a cotton-mill may become by the new Christian
-political economy.”
-
-“Thank you,” said Salome. “And now let us see just what the strikers
-demand, and how far we can grant their wishes.”
-
-John Villard produced the paper which had been presented on the first
-day of the strike, and placed it in Salome’s hands. It was the first
-time she had seen it. She read it through very carefully.
-
-“It seems to me there was no need of these long months of idleness,” she
-commented, when she had finished the paper. “Now, let us see. First,
-they demand recognition, as the Shawsheen Labor Union. I think we may
-yield that point, safely enough.”
-
-“Without modification?” inquired Geoffrey Burnham.
-
-“Why not?”
-
-“They will take advantage of us. They will dictate and become arbitrary.
-The Labor Union grows by what it feeds on. It will become an elephant on
-our hands.”
-
-“Not if they have something better to take its place,” said Salome. “I
-am fully persuaded that they will meet us half-way, if we give them a
-union that is better than theirs. Let their union alone for the
-present.”
-
-“I am with you there,” said Villard. “It devolves upon us to change its
-character into something that shall be, at least, as helpful as they
-_want_ to make this one.”
-
-“Next, the ten-hour system,” pursued Salome, who was not yet ready to
-discuss the improved union. “Certainly there can be no possible
-objection against granting this clause?”
-
-“Certainly not,” said Burnham, feeling himself appealed to.
-
-“‘The new frames must be taken out and the mules replaced, with a
-written agreement that no more of the obnoxious machinery shall be added
-for five years.’ That seems rather arbitrary. How is it, Mr. Villard?”
-
-“It is arbitrary,” he responded. “The frames must be retained. We must
-be allowed to adopt improved machines and methods, or where shall we be
-in this age of competition? But I think there will be little trouble
-with the men, if I am allowed to approach them in the right way. Anyhow,
-I will try.”
-
-“Do so,” was the reply. “Make them see that improved methods are for
-their interest as much as for ours. As to the wage-section—were their
-wages actually cut down?”
-
-“Yes,” replied both men.
-
-“That must not be allowed,” said Salome. “The mills were paying a
-handsome profit when this was done, weren’t they?”
-
-“They were,” said Villard. “Better than for a year before.”
-
-“Give them their old pay, with the understanding that wages will be
-increased when work is heavier. I propose to myself a wild scheme of
-profit-sharing, or a sliding scale of wages, in the future.”
-
-“Good,” cried Villard. “The very thing I’ve been wanting to try. I
-believe in it heartily. But where did you get the idea of it?”
-
-“Oh, I’ve been reading all the practical articles I could find on
-political economy, as applied to mills and factories, for some months,”
-Salome replied, “and I have evolved some queer theories, I fear; but I
-propose to give them a fair trial, unless you pronounce them too
-visionary. I am glad you approve of profit-sharing. And you, Mr.
-Burnham?”
-
-“I approve of making the experiment,” said the more cautious
-superintendent. “I do not jump at conclusions. Nevertheless, the idea,
-though new, looks practicable, and I should like to see it tried.”
-
-“They have already tried it in one or two places where it is proving a
-great success, I believe,” said Salome. “You know the experiment was
-tried as long ago as 1831, when Mr. John S. Vandeleur put it into effect
-successfully in County Clare, Ireland. The Paris and Orleans Railway
-Company began to share profit with its employes in 1844, and the Maison
-Leclaire, I think, two years before, both of which have proved very
-successful. I do not see why we cannot adopt it.”
-
-“We can,” asserted Villard, confidently. “It is already being tried on a
-small scale by several firms in this country. Why should not we join the
-procession?”
-
-“What are you going to do about the demand for weekly wages?” asked
-Burnham.
-
-“What objections are there?” Salome asked.
-
-“It will entail extra expense for clerks and book-keepers,” responded
-Burnham. “That seems unnecessary.”
-
-“The men claim that they have to depend in great measure on the credit
-system at the stores,” explained Villard. “Their wages coming only once
-a month, they get short of money. If sickness or other additional
-expense comes upon them, they are often seriously inconvenienced by lack
-of their rightful wages. Again, if they are able to put a little money
-in the savings-bank, why should they not have the benefit of the
-interest that accrues through the month, rather than we? The money is
-theirs.”
-
-“On the other hand,” interrupted Burnham, “those men whose first duty,
-on being paid off, seems to lie in getting gloriously drunk, would have
-the opportunity just four times as often.”
-
-“We have a work to do in that direction,” said Salome in a pained voice.
-“In a sense we are our brother’s keepers. I half believe that the
-solution of the temperance question is largely in the control of the
-employers of labor; and that the secondary, and often the primary,
-causes of intemperance are bad and unwholesome food, which create a
-craving for drink; bad company, which tempts it; squalid houses, which
-drive men forth for cheerfulness; and the want of more comfortable
-places of resort which leaves them no refuge but the saloons. It is in
-our power to remedy all these evils. Give them good sanitation,
-well-ventilated houses, comfortable homes, and reading-rooms, and
-coffee-parlors, and only the most depraved will be tempted by the low
-saloons.”
-
-“But, Miss Shepard, surely you do not propose all these things?” and
-Geoffrey Burnham looked his astonishment.
-
-“Why not?” was the terse reply.
-
-“Where will your profits come in? You cannot afford it.”
-
-Salome smiled. Her money was her own. Why should she not use it as she
-pleased?
-
-“No. For the first year or two I shall not pocket an immense profit;
-that is true,” she assented. “But I am not likely to come to want. And
-Newbern Shepard’s mills must be put on the basis where he desired, above
-all things, to see them during his lifetime. He planned a noble scheme.
-It is my birthright and my duty to carry it into effect. It will cost me
-something to get the mills where they must be; but it will pay in the
-end. Of that I feel sure.”
-
-“You are quite right,” said John Villard. “What may we not hope for when
-the condition of the working-people shall receive that concentrated
-attention which has hitherto been devoted to the more favored ranks?
-When charity, which has, for ages past, done so much mischief, shall
-learn to do good? When the countless pulpits of our country, which have
-always been so active in preaching Catholicism or Anglicism, Calvinism
-or Armenianism, and all other isms, shall preach pure and simple
-Christianity? When, by a healthy environment of the toiling masses, and
-the exercise of hygienic sense and science, mankind shall be healthy and
-free from questionable instincts and morbidly exaggerated appetites? I
-tell you, we cannot even approach an estimate of the extent to which
-every improvement, social, moral or material, reacts on the nation’s
-ethical and intellectual progress, and the prosperity of her
-industries.”
-
-“But you are taking us entirely away from the question in hand,” said
-Geoffrey Burnham, “which was, shall we grant the demand for weekly
-wages?”
-
-“Not so far away as you seem to think,” retorted Villard. “The questions
-of sanitation and morality affect them, and us too, as well as the
-question of weekly wages. As for the latter, I am in favor of trying it
-on.”
-
-“So am I,” said Salome. “I am in favor of trying every new method until
-we can know positively which are the best ones.”
-
-“With modifications,” said Burnham, smiling at her vehemence. “I don’t
-exactly approve of the weekly system, but the majority are against me,
-and I may as well cast my vote with yours. Shall we send for their
-committee, then, and offer them all concessions, except those relating
-to the spinning frames?”
-
-“Yes, I should do so,” said Salome, “and prepare to open the mills at
-once, provided they decide to accept our terms.”
-
-“That is practically decided already,” laughed Burnham, “by our
-accepting theirs. Villard, you may negotiate with them about the frames.
-They are inclined to listen to you better than to me, for some reason.”
-
-“They know I’ve been in their place,” said Villard. “That makes all the
-difference in the world to them. They think I understand their side of
-the question; that is all.”
-
-“Then you will confer with them immediately?” said Salome, rising to go.
-“And will you make all necessary preparations to open the mills? And
-then will you confer with me?”
-
-“Most certainly, Miss Shepard.” Geoffrey Burnham spoke for both of them.
-“But—I beg your pardon, you have not spoken of a new agent. We must have
-one, you know. I trust you have made some wise selection?”
-
-“I am prepared to surprise you,” Salome replied, buttoning her glove.
-“You two men will oblige me by transacting all necessary business for
-the present, in your positions of first and second superintendents, and
-by looking closely after the thousand details which I do not yet
-understand. Meanwhile, I shall come to the office every day and, with
-your co-operation and kind help, shall learn the business. I have too
-many schemes for the general improvement of the Shawsheen Mills and its
-operatives, to trust the mills in the hands of a stranger. I propose to
-be my own agent. Good-morning.”
-
-Salome Shepard never looked handsomer, or smiled more sweetly, than she
-did when she uttered the last sentence, and closed the door behind her,
-leaving her two completely astonished hearers standing in the middle of
-the office.
-
-“Whe-e-w!” ejaculated Geoffrey Burnham, after a little. “How does that
-strike you? The Shawsheen Mills run by a ‘female woman,’ as A. Ward
-would put it! And, by George! we are expected to stay and work,—under a
-woman!”
-
-John Villard broke into a peal of laughter. “It’s awfully funny at
-first,” he said, calming down again. “But, after all, why not? She isn’t
-the empty-headed, aimless creature we thought her. She’s read and
-studied, and has some very sound notions.”
-
-“But, Villard—a woman-agent!” gasped Burnham. “We shall be the
-laughing-stock of the whole state.”
-
-“Let them laugh,” answered Villard. “They laugh best who laugh last. And
-with her notions, her thirst for further knowledge, her enthusiasm, and,
-above all, her money, the Shawsheen Mills will be in a position at the
-end of a few years to do the laughing, while those who laugh at us now
-will set to studying our methods and come to us for advice.”
-
-“But she knows nothing of the practical part of mill-economy,” objected
-Burnham. “The mills will go to rack and ruin. Jove! Old Mr. Greenough
-would turn over in his grave if he could have heard her as she stopped
-in the door and said: ‘I propose to be my own agent.’ A woman!”
-
-“I know,” replied Villard, “that it will seem odd, and perhaps
-uncomfortably so, at first, to acknowledge her as head. But, after all,
-she does not propose to dictate as to the business itself.”
-
-“She will,” interrupted Burnham. “Women always do. She will jump at
-conclusions, mistake her inferences for logical deductions and the
-wisdom which comes only with experience, and, after the first month,
-will know more than we do. I know women. They are impulsive and
-illogical; and they can’t subvert nature and become good business men.”
-
-“No; but they may prove good business women,” was Villard’s answer. “We
-do not know, yet, what she can or what she will do. I believe she will
-be willing to leave the details of the business to us yet, for a long
-time. She is not a conceited woman; and although she has the faculty
-common to her sex of making some surprising jumps at conclusions, I do
-not believe her to be obstinate about them. She proposes to make a study
-of the business, and realizes that this is a work of years. And,
-besides, what will save the mills is this: she has an extended plan in
-manuscript of her grandfather’s scheme for making this an ideal
-institution. If she is willing to leave the business to us for the
-present, and is capable of adapting Newbern Shepard’s theories of years
-ago to the needs of to-day, we are all right, Jeff; and a new era is
-about to begin for the Shawsheen Mills.”
-
-“I only hope we may like it,” assented Burnham doubtfully. “And now for
-the conference with the Labor Union.”
-
-
-
-
- IX.
-
-
-Marion Shaw was one of those women whose lives are a constant giving of
-their best, with no thought of return. We have all seen such women. From
-the self-sacrificing maiden aunt in the humblest home, up to the
-Florence Nightingales and Dorothea Dixes of the world, they are God’s
-angels, everywhere, to suffering humanity.
-
-Marion Shaw and Salome Shepard had been in boarding-school together; and
-although the former had been left from the start to support herself and
-her widowed mother, the friendship between the two girls had never
-abated.
-
-Marion’s mother had died a year before, and something material had
-dropped out of life for the girl. Grief and the solitude which ensued
-after her mother’s death told upon her constitution; and when Salome’s
-letter of invitation reached her, it was like a boon from Heaven. She
-threw up her situation in Madame Blanc’s private school and went to
-Shepardtown, arriving there late in the evening, before Salome’s visit
-to the counting-room.
-
-When the latter came home they settled cosily in Salome’s room for an
-“old-time talk,” such as they had enjoyed as girls.
-
-“Why didn’t you let me know you were tired to death with that
-interminable teaching?” asked Salome. “I should have had you come to me
-long ago. You are as pale as a ghost.”
-
-“Oh, I’m all right now,” answered Marion, who never cared to talk of
-herself. “Tell me about the strike here. I read of it in a Boston
-newspaper, when it came on, and again when Mr. Greenough died. But,
-after the fashion of newspapers with regard to anything you care
-particularly to follow up, they dropped the subject the minute one’s
-interest was roused. And your letter was so meager! Yes, it was. You
-only write the barest details, and not too many of them. Is the strike
-ended?”
-
-“No, but I hope it will be before night,” Salome replied. “I’ve given
-orders this morning that a compromise be made at once. Yes, don’t stare
-at me, please. Why shouldn’t I give orders? They’re my mills.”
-
-“I’m not staring. It’s vulgar to stare, and the lady professors at Mme.
-Blanc’s fashionable boarding-school do not stare. Why, it would be as
-much as their position is worth!” retorted Marion. “Yes, they’re your
-mills, I suppose, and a handsome piece of property they are too, in the
-eyes of poor me, who own only the clothes on my back. But, pardon me,
-dear, it does seem a little odd to hear Salome Shepard, the most
-exclusive and the most fashionable girl at school, talk about giving
-orders in a cotton-mill. You’re not getting strong-minded, are you,
-dear?”
-
-“If to begin to take an active interest in two thousand souls, who are
-dependent upon my money and the business interests it represents, is to
-become strong-minded, I’m afraid I shall have to plead guilty.” Salome
-looked narrowly at her friend. Possibly she had mistaken her, and their
-sympathies were farther apart than she had hoped.
-
-“Bless you!” responded Marion heartily, “I’m strong-minded myself; want
-to vote and all that. Don’t believe intemperance and lots of other evils
-will ever be subdued in this country, until women have something to say,
-and say it through the ballot-box. It is not so very dreadful when you
-once get on to that platform, is it?”
-
-“Oh, I hadn’t thought of voting particularly,” Salome hastened to
-answer. “I don’t really think I want that. But I do want to do something
-for my people.”
-
-“And you’ll find,” retorted Marion, “before you’ve gone very far, that
-if you had the power of legislation, you could help them ten times as
-well.”
-
-“Possibly,” Salome answered, doubtfully. “But, Marion, there are so many
-things absolutely necessary to be done for the Shawsheen operatives. If
-you could see them and the homes they live in, the temptations to which
-they are exposed, the poverty in which they live!”
-
-“And you propose to go to work among them,—to reform them?”
-
-“Yes, God helping me; them and the factory system together. Behold me,”
-said Salome, rising to her full height, and putting on a mock-tragic
-air: “Behold and see: Salome Shepard, Reformer. That’s my platform.”
-
-“Salome, dear, what do you mean?” Mrs. Soule had just come in. “Don’t
-mind her, Marion, she delights in hearing herself talk like a suffrage
-leader, lately. I don’t approve of it, as she knows; but I can only wait
-for the mood to pass.”
-
-“Which it never will, aunty dear,” Salome hastened to say. “So long as I
-live and am in a condition to work for the people who need substantial
-and material aid, as these people do, my life will be devoted to their
-service. I cannot go on living the aimless, indifferent life which has
-been mine ever since I left school. I must have some active interest, or
-I shall stagnate, or, worse still, settle into a cold, hard, selfish
-woman of the world. Unfortunately I was born with a heart; unfortunately
-for your ideal of the proper young lady of the period, I was born with a
-conscience, and this conscience tells me that my fortune was given me
-only in trust. It is not mine for selfish enjoyment alone; it is mine to
-make the world better and happier and purer.”
-
-“And you are going to work among those miserable drunken operatives,”
-said her aunt coldly, “whose sordid lives, and ungrateful hearts, the
-whole of them, are not worth the effort of even one month of your life,
-even if you were at all a capable woman of affairs, a woman of judgment
-and discretion, a woman of sound business sense,—which you are not.”
-
-“Yes, ‘among the drunken miserable operatives,’” replied Salome,
-ignoring the latter part of her aunt’s speech. “Among those sordid lives
-and ungrateful hearts, that were worth the Christ’s dying, and for whom
-He worked, living.”
-
-“You don’t think of joining the Salvation Army, I hope?” exclaimed her
-aunt, quite beside herself at this new development of her niece’s
-purposes.
-
-Salome laughed.
-
-“I shall hardly have the time, aunty. I’ve accepted a position at the
-Shawsheen Mills.”
-
-“A position?” gasped Mrs. Soule. “Oh, Salome! Who offered you—who
-_dared_ offer you a _position_?”
-
-“The fair owner of the mills offered it,” answered Salome, enjoying the
-situation to its fullest extent. “And I accepted, aunty. Marion, in me
-you see the agent of the Shawsheen Mills!”
-
-Marion Shaw rose and clasped her friend closely to her bosom. She
-admired her splendid courage and avowed principles, and honored this
-woman, with money and leisure at her command, who was willing and
-anxious to devote her life to service for others. But not so Mrs. Soule.
-
-She applied a delicate mull and lace handkerchief to her eyes, and wept
-to think to what an end had come her years of training; her careful
-watch, that Salome should never, by any chance, come in contact with a
-lower world; her life-long aim to make of Salome the perfect being
-prescribed by her somewhat limited and narrowed rules of ladyhood.
-
-She begged; she pleaded; she argued; she threatened; she resorted to
-ridicule; but Salome stood firm, and now laughingly and then earnestly
-defended the course she had taken.
-
-“It’s of no use, aunty, as you see, for us to argue the case. I do not
-forget all your kindness and love for me; but I must choose for myself,”
-she said, finally. “I am old enough to decide questions of right and
-wrong. Hereafter we will not argue any more. I must do this; you must
-submit; and that is all there is about it. Now, let’s make up and be
-friends,” and she bent down and kissed her aunt on both cheeks, as she
-used to do when she was a little girl.
-
-“You, a child of Cora de Bourdillon’s!” murmured her aunt, softening a
-little.
-
-“Cora de Bourdillon was my mother,” said Salome. “But before and above
-all else, Newbern Shepard was my grandfather. I am like him. I must be
-like him. And you must submit to the laws of heredity.”
-
-So there was never any more prolonged discussion between them. Salome’s
-nature being so much the stronger, kind-hearted, weak Mrs. Soule could
-not oppose her further. But many times, in after years, was she heard to
-deplore the fact that Cora de Bourdillon’s child was so thorough-going
-an epitome of Newbern Shepard.
-
-“A good man,” she would say. “A perfectly honest and well-meaning man;
-but not like Us!”
-
-
-
-
- X.
-
-
-Early that evening Geoffrey Burnham and John Villard were announced.
-Mrs. Soule and Salome were alone in the parlors when they came in, but
-Marion was sent for.
-
-“And you’ve brought good news?” asked Salome. “They’ve consented to go
-to work again?”
-
-“Of course,” Burnham replied. “They were only too glad to meet us on any
-sort of terms.”
-
-“Wait till my friend comes down,” said Salome. “She is interested, and
-will want to hear the details. Oh, here she is. Miss Shaw, allow me to
-present my two confrères (and teachers as well), Mr. Burnham and Mr.
-Villard.”
-
-“And so it is really settled?” Salome asked, “and the mills are to be
-opened again?”
-
-“Monday morning, if you like,” replied Burnham, “or earlier. But to-day
-is Wednesday, and there are many things to be done where the mills have
-stood idle for months.”
-
-“I’m so glad,” returned Salome.
-
-“There is hearty rejoicing throughout the corporation,” said Villard. “I
-was coming through there to-night and met a couple of little boys with
-bundles of groceries in their arms. The smallest looked up and smiled.
-‘We’re going to have a good supper of meat and potato to-night,’ he
-said. ‘The mills are going to open and pa’s got work.’ I asked him how
-long since he had had meat, and he said not since Christmas; and even
-then he only had a turkey’s wing that somebody gave him.”
-
-“Poor boy! Tell me about your conference with the Labor Union.”
-
-“It passed off smoothly,” Villard went on. “Burnham told him we came
-from you, and were prepared to make terms with them. We only saw the
-committee you know, and they are to lay our terms before the Union
-to-night; but there is no doubt that they will accept. They are really
-very sensible and shrewd, those fellows on the committee, eh, Burnham?”
-
-“Remarkably,” replied the first superintendent. “I didn’t know we had
-such intelligent men.”
-
-“But it is our business to know it,” Villard returned, and Salome nodded
-her head. “We laid our plans before them, and told them that we would
-concede all their wishes, except about the machinery of course. And one
-of their own number spoke up promptly and said it was hot-headed bigotry
-on their part that had made them stick for the removal of the frames.
-And that most of them, even the Lancaster spinners, had come to see that
-every improvement to the mills meant an improvement of their condition.
-Then the secretary wanted to know if they were to be allowed to exist as
-a Union. Burnham told them that you were taking a great interest in the
-management of the mills; and that we all believe that no harm can come
-of their organizing themselves into an association, provided they were
-willing to be reasonable, and to confer with us before taking extreme
-measures again. He begged them to believe that you are their friend, and
-want them all to have a fair chance. And he ended by assuring them that
-we, as superintendents, fully concurred with you; and that he hoped they
-would be willing to start on a new basis, and to consider our interests
-as they expect and desire us to remember theirs. Burnham did himself
-proud, Miss Shepard, and I could see they were a good deal affected by
-his conduct.”
-
-“I am covered with blushes,” declared Burnham. “Spare my modesty.”
-
-“Blushing must be a novel sensation to you,” retorted Villard. “The
-leaders shook hands with us when we came away and thanked us for what we
-had said, assuring us that they would be ready to enter the mills again
-at once. And a different spirit is evident to-night, all through the
-corporation.”
-
-“Don’t be too sanguine,” interrupted Burnham. “We’re not through the
-woods yet. And there are several ends to be achieved before the
-millennium dawns.”
-
-“I should like,” said Salome, “if it will not bore you too much, to
-outline the general plan I have formed for raising the condition of
-things at the mills.”
-
-“Nothing would give us greater pleasure than such a proof of your
-confidence,” replied Burnham.
-
-“And we can assure you beforehand,” said Villard, “of our hearty
-co-operation.”
-
-No one but Salome noticed that her aunt had quietly slipped away when
-she spoke of her plan. Mrs. Soule did not care to hear Salome “talk
-shop.”
-
-“In the first place,” Salome began, “are the mills all they should be?
-Are they well lighted, aired and drained? Is the machinery such as to
-benefit both the operators and the business interests of the mills?”
-
-“No, they are not quite up to modern standards,” Villard replied,
-promptly.
-
-“I don’t know,” pursued Burnham, “but they are quite as good as the
-average. There are many worse mills than the Shawsheen.”
-
-“That isn’t the point,” Salome replied. “Are there any better? Or are
-they capable of improvement?”
-
-“Well, yes, if you don’t consider expense,” assented Burnham.
-
-“Are they well-lighted? Are their sanitary conditions good?”
-
-“They are very well-lighted indeed,” said Villard; “your grandfather
-built much in advance of his time, and the mills are all light and
-strong. But they need better ventilation in cold weather; and, as you
-know, sanitary science in Newbern Shepard’s day was hardly up to modern
-demands.”
-
-“I propose putting in the best drainage system we can find. I propose
-bath-rooms, wash-rooms and elevators.”
-
-“Good!” said both her superintendents.
-
-“As for machinery, you will know what is needed there. We want the
-latest improved methods of doing our work. It will not do for us to be
-behind the times, or the world will laugh at our philanthropic efforts.
-The standard of the mills must be as high now as it was in my
-grandfather’s day. Nothing but the best of goods, made after the most
-approved modern methods, must go out from us. Otherwise the world will
-say we are visionary and lack good business sense.”
-
-“That is true,” assented Burnham. “The business must not suffer.”
-
-“At the same time, I want the mills made so pleasant and comfortable
-that our operatives will prefer them to any other, knowing that we
-propose to consult their interests and happiness in little things, as we
-desire that they shall consult ours in great. Then their homes. Those
-old rickety tenement houses must be abolished from the face of the
-earth.”
-
-“Hear, hear,” cried Villard, “they have long been an eyesore to me.”
-
-“They are a disgrace to us,” was Salome’s emphatic answer.
-
-“But you can’t do that all at once,” said Burnham. “That is something
-that will take time.”
-
-“It is April now,” said Salome. “I propose to begin at once on new
-houses for the operatives. They will have to stay where they are for the
-summer, but by cold weather I mean that every one of them shall be in
-new quarters.”
-
-“Whew!” said Burnham; “you _are_ a woman of business, Miss Shepard. But
-you will have your hands full this year to build new houses for two
-thousand people.”
-
-“It can be done though,” Villard replied. “There are plenty of
-carpenters and builders to be had. What kind of tenements do you
-propose?”
-
-“I have not fully decided. At first I thought of having single cottages
-for every family, with a tiny plot of land for each. But sometimes I
-wonder if some of the plans for model tenement houses would not be more
-feasible. What do you think?”
-
-“There are advantages in both,” said Burnham. “It is doubtful if many of
-the operatives would appreciate a whole house, or take good care of one.
-On the other hand, the best tenement house system in the world has its
-drawbacks.”
-
-“In a country-place where there is room enough, as there is here,”
-advised Villard, “it seems to me that the single cottage system is the
-better. Each family can then have a certain privacy, impossible to the
-tenement house system. They can soon be educated up to caring for their
-places, and, I think, will soon come to take pride in them. They may not
-pay, at first; but they will serve a higher purpose. I have thought it
-would be a fine thing,—in the Utopia of which I have often dreamed,—if,
-connected with such a factory as this, could be built some substantial,
-inexpensive cottages which could be sold to the working-men with
-families, on very easy terms. Let them occupy them as tenants, for
-instance, until their rentals amount to a certain sum—say two hundred
-dollars,—unless they have been fortunate enough to have saved that
-amount, which they can pay down, and then let them take a deed of the
-place and give us a mortgage. Pardon me, Miss Shepard, I am only
-supposing a case.”
-
-“And quite a supposable one,” said Salome, her eyes glowing. “Why can’t
-it be done?”
-
-“Doubtful if any of them would burden themselves with a debt like that,”
-demurred Burnham.
-
-“I think they would,” Villard responded. “The desire for a home of one’s
-own is an instinct which is implanted in every human breast. If the
-steadier, more sensible men of the mills could be induced to try it, it
-would soon become the ambition of all the younger ones to own their
-homes. I am sure the overseers, at least, would like to try it. So many
-of our operatives live in a hand-to-mouth fashion, never saving
-anything. Let them see that what they pay for rent will be credited to
-them; that they are actually saving that money, and they will, for the
-most part, gladly fall in with the scheme. And when a man begins to save
-up money, and to feel that he is worth something, his self-respect
-increases and ambition makes a man of him. I tell you, I believe the
-thing could be done here, and the condition of our working-men be vastly
-improved by it.”
-
-“We will, at least, make the experiment,” said Salome earnestly. “At
-first a wild dream came to me of building model tenement houses and
-practically giving them the rent. But I soon came to see that it would
-be better for them to pay what they could afford for improved
-conditions.”
-
-“That would be far wiser,” said Villard. “To make them objects of
-charity would be to lower their condition in the long run.”
-
-“Then I have a plan for the girls,” Salome went on. “So many of them
-live in those dreadful boardinghouses. I’ve been into one, and I wonder
-how any girl can keep her self-respect and live there. I am going to
-build a large building, which shall have plenty of light, airy bedrooms,
-prettily and inexpensively furnished; so that a girl may feel that she
-has a cosy little spot somewhere on earth of her very own. I am going to
-have model bath-rooms and a large, cheerful dining-room. There will be a
-matron to the establishment who will be like a mother to the girls; not
-one who will care nothing whether her girls are sober and respectable,
-or miserable and besotted, so long as they pay. This woman will win the
-confidence of the girls, and lead them into habits of personal
-cleanliness and common sense; she will take an interest in their little
-personal affairs, and advise them kindly and judiciously. In short, she
-will make a home for them in the truest sense of the word.”
-
-“You will have to have her made to order, Salome,” interrupted Marion
-from the sofa where she had been an interested listener. “Such paragons
-do not exist.”
-
-“And would scarcely be appreciated by the average factory girl if they
-did,” added Burnham, smiling at Marion.
-
-“I shall have a large and pleasant parlor with a piano and a comfortable
-reading-room,” Salome continued, as though not hearing; “I don’t suppose
-the girls, judging from what I hear and see of them, will care much for
-reading at first; but if I put plenty of light, healthful literature in
-their way, with illustrated books and good pictures on the walls, they
-will gradually come to like them. And then, there must be weekly
-entertainments, and perhaps a hall.”
-
-“And what about the young men?” inquired Villard. “Are you going to
-leave our sex out in the cold?”
-
-“Yes, if you educate the girls so much above them, what are the young
-fellows to do?”
-
-“They shall have such a boarding-house too,” said Salome, “only we’ll
-call them Unions. I hate the name boarding-house, and I should think
-they would; and then, by and by, there are still other schemes in my
-mind. There are children, plenty of them, on the corporation. They are
-poor, sickly, unkempt, uncared-for. All this must be changed.”
-
-“That will come, I think,” said Burnham, “with their improved conditions
-and surroundings. It is unhealthful where they now are. Shall you build
-the new houses there?”
-
-“Oh, no, I forgot to say,” answered Salome, “that we must put up their
-new quarters on the hill, the other side of the mills. It is much
-pleasanter up there, and a far more healthful locality. Work on them can
-begin right away. Will you find me the proper man to undertake the
-building of the houses, Mr. Villard?”
-
-John Villard’s heart fairly burned with enthusiasm. This was a project
-he had long cherished, although he had been entirely without means or
-prospect of ever being able to carry it out.
-
-“You may be sure I will do my best,” he answered.
-
-“And we will reserve the power of directing and planning the buildings
-ourselves,” she added.
-
-“I’m glad you’re going to do something for the children,” said Marion.
-“If you don’t succeed in improving things in this generation much, you
-will in the next, if you educate the children.”
-
-“That is what I propose to do,” said Salome. “They must have better
-schools than they ever had.”
-
-“And be compelled to attend them,” interposed Burnham.
-
-“Oh, there are so many things to be done. It will take years to get
-everything in working order.”
-
-“You have laid out a beautiful scheme, Miss Shepard,” remarked Geoffrey
-Burnham, “and in most respects a practical one. But you must not be too
-sanguine. These people are ignorant,—fairly steeped in ignorance. They
-are jealous, too, and doubtless will mistrust your motives, and believe
-you have some selfish reason behind all your endeavor.”
-
-“I have,” laughed Salome. “I want my mills to be models, and my people
-to be the best, most skilled, most intelligent, and most progressive
-community in America.”
-
-“Bravo!” said Villard. “So do I.”
-
-“I am not so sanguine as you may think,” Salome went on. “I know they
-are ignorant. How should they be anything else? All their lives they’ve
-been used as we use the machines in the factory,—to make good cloth, and
-plenty of money. Nobody has thought of their welfare, or cared what they
-did, or thought, or became, when working-hours were over. How do we know
-what sort of men they are, or what capabilities they possess? I read
-somewhere, only the other day, that there may still be Fichtes tending
-geese, and Robert Burns’ toiling on the farm; that there may be, yet,
-successors of William Dean Howells at the type-forms, of T. B. Aldrich
-at the book-keeper’s desk, of Mark Twain at the pilot-wheel. We have no
-right to keep them back. But this writer went on to say, that the world
-has less need of them, even, than of those who cannot aspire to thrive
-outside the shop, and who go to their daily toil knowing that their
-highest hope must be not to get ‘out of a job’ and not to have their
-wages cut. I don’t suppose they will, at once, appreciate our efforts to
-better their condition. Possibly they will oppose us at first; but we
-can have no better task to perform than to make them prosperous,
-contented and joyous in their work. And by making a man of the
-operative, I fully believe we shall bring material prosperity to the
-mills.”
-
-“But the expense,” urged Burnham. “Have you calculated that? I doubt if
-the mills could stand so heavy a burden all at once.”
-
-“I have calculated the expense,” Salome answered him. “And what cannot
-be done from the yearly profits of the mills, I will do myself.”
-
-“We shall be eagerly watched by the whole manufacturing world,” said
-Burnham.
-
-“So much the better,” added Villard. “It is time somebody set the
-example. If we succeed in carrying out all these plans, and keep the
-mills on a paying basis as well, it will be the beginning of a mighty
-reform in the working-man’s world. I believe we can succeed.”
-
-“You will be called quixotic and all sorts of pleasant things, Salome,”
-said her friend Marion.
-
-“The beginner in any reform is always called a crank, if nothing worse,”
-replied Salome. “If I chose to build a million-dollar castle to live in
-myself; if I preferred to dress in cloth of gold and silver; if I
-insisted upon eating off solid gold dishes; or even if I were to endow a
-church or a female college, the world would admire and praise me, and
-say these things are a rich woman’s prerogative. If I choose instead to
-spend my fortune on the Shawsheen Mills, and elevate by its judicious
-expenditure two thousand operatives for whom I ought to feel morally and
-socially responsible, the world will probably wonder and call me
-quixotic. Christ Himself was called a fanatic. Most people to-day, if
-they voiced their real sentiments, would wonder that He could be so
-democratic as to die for the whole world, ignorant, uncultivated,
-detestable sinners, and all.”
-
-One of those silences fell upon the room, that always follows the
-mention of Christ’s name in a conversation not strictly “religious” in
-character. Marion was admiring the courage of her friend; Burnham was
-rather taken aback at this fearless reference to a Being whom he seldom
-heard mentioned outside the churches; and Villard was surprised and
-delighted with this unworldly woman of the world, and her avowal of
-principles and hopes and wishes which he had cherished for years. He was
-the first to speak.
-
-“You must have done some hard thinking,—and a good deal of reading, in
-the past six months.”
-
-“Yes,” answered Salome. “I have. I have read everything I could think or
-hear of, on subjects bearing on this case; and I have lain awake many a
-night, since it was really borne in upon me that I have something to do
-here, planning my work. But the greater part of the credit, if there is
-any, in my plans, lies with my grandfather. He thought out many of these
-things, years ago; I have simply adapted his theories to our modern
-times and conditions.”
-
-
-
-
- XI.
-
-
-And so the great strike ended.
-
-Had Salome realized the burden of care which she was taking upon
-herself, it is doubtful whether she would have assumed it as cheerfully
-as she did. But as weeks rolled into months, and responsibilities
-multiplied and cares increased until she became as hard a worker as any
-in the mills, she did not flinch. She had put her hand to the plough,
-and it did not once occur to her to turn back.
-
-She went to the office of the mills the day they were opened, and began
-to study, thoroughly, the details of the business. Villard and Burnham
-were her teachers, and both were often astonished at her business
-keenness and cool judgment. She had pressed Marion into service
-immediately, and always took her to the counting-room, where the two
-staid throughout the entire morning, going home to lunch at two, and
-usually remaining there the rest of the day. But always, whether she was
-in the house, or out driving, or overseeing the new houses, which were
-progressing rapidly, Salome’s one thought was the improvement of
-conditions at the Shawsheen Mills.
-
-When Marion had been with her a week, Salome said to her:
-
-“Marion, I want you to stay with me all the time.”
-
-“I should be so glad,” replied her friend, “but I can’t afford it. I
-shall have to go out into the world again, before long, to earn my
-living, dear; but I will stay here as long as I can.”
-
-“You good girl!” was Salome’s answer. “Why not stay here and earn your
-living? I want a companion, shall very soon need a secretary, and as
-soon as I get things in running order, ought to have a woman like you to
-help draw in my people. You need a congenial place at a comfortable
-salary. Now, why not stay? I will pay you a thousand dollars a year.”
-
-Marion drew a breath of astonishment.
-
-“It isn’t worth that,” she said; “Madame Blanc only paid me seven
-hundred.”
-
-“Madame Blanc is not fixing a scale of wages for me,” said Salome; “as
-to your ‘worth,’ my dear, I must judge of that. When we get fairly at
-work, I shall give you enough to do, and you will find yourself a very
-busy woman. Besides, if I had a young man to do what I want you to do
-for me, he would ask a thousand dollars, wouldn’t he? And why shouldn’t
-you have it? Because you are a woman?”
-
-Marion was not demonstrative. On the contrary, she had a great deal of
-the true New England reserve; but she got up and went over to her
-friend, put both arms around her neck and then——cried.
-
-“If you could know what a chance this is for me!” she said at last. “If
-you had known what a dreary thing existence had become, and what a
-hopeless prospect I had in the future! And now, to live here and work
-with you,—in your grand scheme,—Oh, Salome!” And she wept again.
-
-“Then I will put the care of the cottages into your hands first of all,”
-said Salome, patting her cheek. “You’ve kept house and know what one
-ought to be like for an ordinary family,—what things are necessary for
-the comfort of the household and convenience of the housewife. I don’t.
-I should be as apt to build expensive music-rooms and leave out the
-pantries, as any way. Go ahead, and get up as nice houses as you can, at
-$1,500, $2,000 and $2,500 a piece. Mr. Villard thinks none of the
-employes will care to buy anything more expensive. Here is the
-architect’s address,” and she handed Marion a card.
-
-But the building of the model boarding-house was a project too dear to
-Salome’s heart for her to easily relinquish to others. Her plan, as she
-had presented it to Villard and Burnham, grew and magnified itself until
-her co-laborers had to resort to all sorts of arguments to keep her from
-wild extravagance.
-
-She had begun by planning for the factory girls a house which should be
-really a home; but as she went about among the operatives, and began to
-get an inkling of what the young men of the mills really were, of the
-bare, desolate dens which gave them shelter, she did not wonder that
-they resorted to the streets for comfort and amusement. She began to see
-how the young men and girls who entered the mills could scarcely help
-drifting into low and unworthy lives; and she grew more determined to do
-something to raise them to a higher plane of living.
-
-Her grandfather’s manuscripts did not help her much here. In Newbern
-Shepard’s day, the factory-hand had not sunk to such ignorance or even
-degradation, as he has, in some instances, in later times; and in those
-more democratic times, it had not been so hard for him to rise above the
-level of his kind. In that day, too, it had been possible for him to
-find a home, in the true sense of the word, with families of a certain
-degree of refinement. But in Salome’s more modern times, she saw, and
-grieved, that the factory boarding-places were of the sort that dragged
-the operatives down and kept them on a lower plane, even, than the
-Shawsheen tenement system.
-
-She consulted much with the superintendents and with Marion. She visited
-the large cities and thoroughly examined the young men’s and young
-women’s various houses and unions. She got ideas from all, but a
-perfected plan from none. Finally, she collaborated with her architect,
-Robert Fales, and soon had her model boarding-house on paper. After that
-it was only a work of days to begin on the foundations of the
-institution.
-
-The operatives at the Shawsheen Mills gazed on all these changes with
-curious interest, which, however, they carefully suppressed when any of
-their superiors were about. The average independent American citizen, as
-he exists among working-men, does not care to pose as an object of even
-partial charity. He delights in crying out against Capital, and
-clamoring for a share of the Profits; but when it comes to actual taking
-of what he does not feel he has earned, he is more backward.
-
-The Shawsheen operatives, in spite of the promises which had been made,
-had gone to work again with little hope that the state of affairs for
-them would be any better in future than in the past. As days went by,
-and they saw Salome Shepard come to the mills every morning, and knew
-that she was personally interested in them as her people, they were
-skeptical of any results for good. And when they began to hear it
-whispered that she, a woman, was the actual head of the Shawsheen Mills,
-some of them talked earnestly of leaving. What! they—strong,
-able-bodied, skilled mechanics—work under a woman?
-
-But they didn’t go. A dull season was upon them, and work scarce. Other
-mills were shutting down and sending their operatives into two months of
-enforced idleness. The Shawsheen hands were forced to stay where they
-were and be thankful for a chance to work.
-
-Then, as the story that they were to be furnished with new and better
-homes gained credence among them, their first real interest dawned. Many
-did not believe their conditions would be bettered; many, even, did not
-care; and most of them grumbled because their rents would probably be
-high, and said the new buildings were only a means to grind the poor and
-extort more money from them, to put into a rich woman’s pocket. Such is
-the thankless task of the philanthropist.
-
-Salome heard something of this, but did not allow the knowledge to
-disquiet her.
-
-“A few months will convince them,” she said, quietly. “No wonder they
-are on the lookout for oppression and extortion. As near as I can judge,
-this factory has long been run on a plan to warrant them in such a
-belief.” And this was all she ever said against Otis Greenough’s method
-of administering affairs at the mills.
-
-As the summer went by, Salome’s friends in the town began to wonder at
-her extravagant outlay, as they called it. They prophesied that she
-would soon tire of her new amusement, and leave the houses unfinished,
-when her projects would fall flat. Some of them came to her and
-remonstrated, on the ground that her inexperience in financial affairs
-was cause enough for her leaving the Shawsheen Mills and the employes as
-they had been. But invariably she replied, that if she had chosen to
-build herself a million-dollar castle, they would have approved of her;
-but because she proposed to spend a half-million on the mill property,
-all of which she felt sure would return to her some day with interest,
-she was called extravagant and foolish.
-
-“But if you had built the million-dollar house,” said Mrs. Greenough,
-“it would have been a great thing for the place. Think what an ornament
-to Shepardtown it would be!”
-
-“And think what an improvement—what a great thing for Shepardtown—it
-will be to tear away those miserable, tumble-down tenements on Shawsheen
-alley, and to add a hundred neat and cosy houses to the hill,” she
-retorted. “And, besides, you haven’t seen my—well, my Institution (I
-haven’t named it yet). Think what an ornament that will be to the
-place.”
-
-But as nobody realized what the “Institution” of her dreams was to be,
-Salome got no sympathy from her friends. Curiosity increased on all
-hands, as the summer waned and an immense brick structure grew apace on
-the hill. It had a square, dome-like center, with huge wings on each
-side. But the workmen were sworn to secrecy, and nobody was allowed to
-go inside from the time the building was far enough advanced to allow of
-its entrances being fastened up.
-
-
-
-
- XII.
-
-
-It was finished at last. The plasterers and painters and plumbers had
-done their last stroke of work and departed, leaving the keys with
-Salome, as she had requested. On the same afternoon, she sent for Robert
-Fales, and together they showed Burnham and Villard, with Marion Shaw
-and Mrs. Soule—who was as anxious as any of them to see the place,
-although she would not own it—over the new building.
-
-A broad flight of stone steps led up to the main entrance. The wooden
-framework, which had concealed the façade, had been taken down, and
-there, over the massive doorway, was the name of Salome’s “Institution,”
-carved in red sandstone—“NEWBERN SHEPARD HALL.”
-
-“Why not simply Shepard Hall?” said Burnham, as they stood looking up at
-it.
-
-“Or Salome Shepard Hall?” put in Mrs. Soule’s voice, for she felt that
-it would be like the rest of her niece’s folly to have her name carved
-in stone up there.
-
-“Auntie!” exclaimed Salome reprovingly; then, turning to Geoffrey
-Burnham—“Shepard Hall might have meant me, or it might have meant my
-father, or the whole race of us in general. This building is a memorial
-to Newbern Shepard, not to his family. How do you like the design of the
-façade?”
-
-The building was of red brick, with massive trimmings of red sandstone,
-and was substantial and useful in general appearance, rather than
-ornate.
-
-“Ten times as expensive as you needed,” was her aunt’s comment.
-
-“Yes,” answered Burnham, to whom the remark was directed. “A cheap,
-wooden building would have answered the purpose, I should say.”
-
-“Perhaps,” laughed Salome; “but I am not putting up wooden monuments to
-my grandfather’s memory. Besides, you don’t know my purpose, yet.”
-
-“Something quixotic and unnecessary, I’m afraid, my dear,” answered Mrs.
-Soule.
-
-Salome did not answer but led the way up the stairway, and unlocked the
-heavy doors These opened into a vestibule leading into a large room
-fitted up with bookcases and tables.
-
-“This is the library,” said she. “Now, see the two reading-rooms, one on
-each side. One is for the girls, and one for the young men.”
-
-They passed out into the one designed for the girls,—a pleasant airy
-room with plenty of light and space. The walls were tinted and the
-woodwork was in the natural finish. Nothing in the way of furnishing
-had, of course, been done. Beyond the reading-room was another large
-class-room, and opening from it were several smaller ones. These all
-occupied one wing of the new building.
-
-“What do you propose to have done with all these rooms?” asked some one.
-
-Salome looked over to John Villard and smiled.
-
-“I’ve read and studied ‘All Sorts and Conditions of Men’ to some
-purpose,” she said; “I propose, as time goes on, to have various
-practical and useful things taught the girls here. Dressmaking for
-instance, and millinery and domestic science. The conveniences for that,
-though, are in the basement.”
-
-She led the way by a flight of stairs that led from a side-entrance, at
-the end of the wing, to the basement. There was a spacious hall with
-rows of hooks to hang garments on. From this, opened a large and
-pleasant dining-room. Under the main portion of the building was a great
-kitchen with ranges and all the modern appliances of a hotel kitchen,
-though on a smaller scale.
-
-“Isn’t this rather elaborate for a factory boarding-house?” asked
-Burnham; “for, I take it, that is one of your objects, at least, if not
-the primary one.”
-
-“I approve of this,” said Mrs. Soule judicially. “It’s poor policy to
-fit out a kitchen with cheap stuff. Give servants the best of everything
-to do with, and teach them how to take care of them.”
-
-“Miss Shepard has gone over the subject very carefully,” said Mr. Fales,
-“and, I must say, has shown most excellent judgment in everything. As
-you say, madam, it’s only money wasted to put cheap stuff into a
-building like this.”
-
-“Now, look through the pantries and larder and laundry,” Salome
-interrupted; “I think, for a woman who knows absolutely nothing of the
-details of housekeeping, I’ve excelled myself.” She spoke boastfully and
-shook her head at Marion, at the close of her speech.
-
-“How much of it did Miss Shaw plan?” slyly asked Geoffrey Burnham.
-
-“Every bit of it, below the main floor,” responded Salome. “Since you
-seem incapable of believing that I did it, I may as well own that Marion
-and Mr. Fales planned the whole of the basement, and that I, in my
-ignorance, could only look on and admire. But they did so well that now
-I am inclined to take all the glory to myself.”
-
-They passed through the basement, coming up at the other end of the
-building, and found themselves in the young men’s wing. Here, besides
-the reading-rooms and class-room, was another fitted with two or three
-workbenches.
-
-“I propose to give them a chance to take an industrial education,” said
-Salome, “if they should want it.”
-
-“I declare!” ejaculated Mrs. Soule. “To give skilled mechanics a chance
-to take lessons at the work-bench! You are out of your mind, child.”
-
-“I didn’t plan it for skilled mechanics, auntie,” said Salome gently,
-“although they may come if they want to. But you know, or ought to, that
-the majority of our men can only perform one kind of work. They may be
-nearly perfect in their special branch, but are almost helpless when it
-comes to handling the hammer and saw and chisel. If they learn the
-proper use of these things, it will not only increase their knowledge in
-that direction, it will broaden them in other ways.”
-
-“I don’t see how,” persisted her aunt.
-
-“Besides,” put in John Villard, “if it does no other good, if the
-experiment keeps a few of our fellows off the street at night and
-develops a new taste, it will be worth while.”
-
-“Well, perhaps you are right,” said Mrs. Soule, “but no such philosophy
-or philanthropy was taught in my day.”
-
-“‘The world do move,’ auntie,” laughed Salome. “Now, shall we go
-upstairs?”
-
-A broad flight of steps from the hallway at the end of the wing led up
-to the second floor, which was just like the one on the girls’ wing.
-Upstairs, the broad corridor ran through the middle of the wing, with
-bedrooms opening from either side. In the main body of the building,
-under the dome, was a large hall, fitted up with movable seats, and
-having a raised platform at the front.
-
-“This is the pride of my heart,” Salome announced, as she ushered her
-friends into it. “If any one dares to criticise it, woe be unto him! Mr.
-Burnham, what fault can you find with this?”
-
-They all laughed at her inconsistency.
-
-“I should not dare make it known, if I had any,” he said. “But may I ask
-what it is for?”
-
-“Why, to hold meetings in, and lectures and things,” she answered,
-quickly; “what did you suppose?”
-
-“Oh! And for the Labor Unions to congregate in and plan how they may
-overthrow and destroy you, I suppose,” scoffed Burnham. “And it is a
-capital place to breed the next strike.”
-
-“There will be no ‘next strike,’” was the confident answer. “And as for
-the rest, wait and see. I had the seats all movable because once in a
-while there will be a party, and they will want the floor for dancing.”
-
-“Salome! Not dancing?” cried her aunt.
-
-“Why not? The floor is an excellent one for dancing. I saw to that
-myself,” said she, purposely misunderstanding her relative.
-
-“You are not going to let them have their low dances here?” Mrs. Soule’s
-tone showed how much the idea horrified her.
-
-“Low dances? Certainly not,” said her niece. “But we are going to show
-them how to have something better. We are going to lift them above
-wanting a low entertainment of any kind, and teach them how such things
-are carried on by better people,—by us, for example.”
-
-“Salome, you don’t mean me to understand that you are going to come and
-dance here, yourself?”
-
-“Perhaps, though I had not thought of it. But why not?” continued the
-perverse niece. “Mr. Villard, will you lead the first figure with me, on
-our opening night?”
-
-“With the greatest pleasure in the world,” said he, with a thrill at his
-heart which he did not recognize.
-
-Mrs. Soule sat down on a convenient window-seat.
-
-“What would your father say?” she murmured.
-
-“I never knew my father well enough to judge.” Salome answered, with a
-slight tinge of bitterness in her tone. “But I know what my grandfather
-would say. I am going to put a piano in here,—or would you have an
-organ?—and I intend that this hall shall be the rallying place of the
-young people. I’m also going to give a course of entertainments here
-during the winter, twice a week; I’m not going to begin with lectures
-and heavy ‘intellectual treats;’ but I will gradually lead up to them
-with concerts and even a minstrel show or two.”
-
-“Salome,” gasped her aunt feebly from the window-sill.
-
-“You see, if we begin by shooting over their heads, they won’t come at
-all,” said Salome. “But if we begin with something light and amusing,
-and not too far above their level, and gradually raise the tone of the
-entertainments, they’ll find themselves attending lectures and other
-sugar-coated forms of intellectual betterment, and like them; and never
-mistrust that I am working out a mission on their unsuspecting heads.”
-
-“I’m glad you realize something of their present intellectual
-condition,” said John Villard, who had been unusually silent and grave
-while looking over the new building; “and realize that it’s only
-gradually that we can bring them, as a class, up to a higher grade as
-intelligent young people.”
-
-“Oh, I do,” said Salome, “I’ve seen too much of them, myself, this
-summer. At first, I was appalled by the absolute lack of common
-knowledge among the average girls. But there are a few, I know, who have
-already improved the slight advantages they’ve had; and these few I
-shall rely on to help me by their influence in raising the rest; the
-‘little leaven,’ you know. It seems to me, that only by raising the
-intellectual condition, and the educational aspiration, can we hope to
-accomplish anything of permanent value to the mills.”
-
-“That is the only way,” was Villard’s response. “And, Miss Shepard,” he
-said, hurriedly, for the others had already scattered through the girls’
-wing, leaving them alone, “I want to say that, as I believe you have
-found the only true solution to the main questions of the labor problem,
-I pledge myself to heartily sustain you in every way. You have only to
-command me, and I am ready.”
-
-Why did Salome turn away to hide the vivid blush that suddenly swept
-over her face?
-
-“I am sure of that,” she said, presently, with an effort, “I have
-counted on you from the first. I shall try, by my own personal efforts,
-to help the factory girls. But I shall depend on you, and you alone, to
-manage the young men.”
-
-“I shall not fail you,” was all he said, as Salome locked the door of
-the hall behind them, and they went over the girl’s wing to find the
-others.
-
-The bedrooms on this wing were like those on the other side. There were
-ample closets and plenty of light and air and window space. The rooms
-were not spacious, but they were complete in every respect, and a vast
-improvement on anything the Shawsheen mill-girls had ever seen.
-
-“I did not want large rooms,” said Salome; “I think it is better to put
-not more than two girls in a room. I shall put two single beds in each,
-and fit up the rooms with everything necessary for comfort; then I shall
-insist that the girls keep their own rooms in the best of order. Oh,
-you’ll see what a disciplinarian I shall be!”
-
-The third floor was entirely given up to bedrooms, the two wings being
-entirely separated from each other by the upper portion of the hall
-which extended to the top of the dome. Every part of the building was
-beautifully finished, well-lighted, and planned for general, practical
-convenience.
-
-“There, if I never do anything else,” said Salome, after they had come
-out of the place, and stood looking back at it, “I shall feel that I
-have raised a suitable monument to old Newbern Shepard. I believe, if he
-could have lived until now, that he would have done the same thing
-himself—only better.”
-
-“He couldn’t, Miss Shepard,” said Villard. “It is absolutely perfect.”
-
-“Yes,” admitted Burnham, “it is. But do you realize, Miss Shepard, what
-an elephant you’ve got on your hands? It’s going to be a fearful tax on
-your mind and strength to keep it up, and to carry out half you’ve
-planned.”
-
-“Well, what were health and strength given me for?” Salome asked, with
-the abruptness which sometimes characterized her.
-
-“Most young women find a solution to that question without running an
-eleemosynary institution,” was Burnham’s mental comment; but he said
-nothing.
-
-“I expect to see my happiest days while I have the care of this
-establishment. I’m sure I never was so happy as I’ve been for the past
-six months. Now, I must finish this great house. I shall need all the
-suggestions and practical aid you can each give me, especially about the
-libraries and reading-rooms. As to the selection of books, I’m going to
-begin with a comparative few. Will you two gentlemen come up to the
-house to-morrow night, prepared to help make out a suitable list?”
-
-“You forget that I have to go to New York to-morrow,” said Burnham. “But
-Villard can go; and I can help afterwards, you know.”
-
-“As soon as we get everything in readiness,” pursued Salome, “we will
-have a formal opening. We’ll have music and something good to eat, and a
-little talking, and perhaps a dance to close with.” Salome looked
-wickedly at her aunt, but the latter paid no heed. “Remember your
-promise, Mr. Villard.”
-
-“I shall not be the one to forget it,” he answered.
-
-They separated very soon, Salome and her aunt and Marion taking the
-architect home with them, and Burnham and Villard going back to the
-mills.
-
-But all through the afternoon, and all through the watches of the night,
-one sentence repeated itself to John Villard’s heart, comforting and
-helping him, strangely: “I have counted on you from the first.”
-
-
-
-
- XIII.
-
-
-It was Halloween when the new building was formally opened. Up to that
-time, only a few privileged persons were allowed to enter its sacred
-portals; but every one connected with the Shawsheen Mills was invited to
-be present at the opening.
-
-On the hill, back of the mills, stood one hundred new cottages, each
-costing from fifteen to twenty-five hundred dollars, and all ready for
-occupancy; but as yet none of the mill-hands had seen the inside of one
-of them.
-
-It had been a work of no small magnitude to find a suitable matron for
-the Newbern Shepard Hall. But, finally, the widow of a former physician
-in Shepardtown, a woman of excellent character and judgment, and with
-some experience as matron of a young ladies’ school, was secured and
-duly installed in the two pleasant rooms set apart for her in the girls’
-wing.
-
-John Villard had relieved Salome’s mind of another perplexity, by
-offering to take up permanent quarters for himself in the young men’s
-side; for, although she had felt the necessity of such an arrangement,
-she had not liked to ask him to give up what she rightly guessed were
-more congenial apartments in a quiet corner of the town. But he felt
-that his influence would be needed at the Hall, and that he could do the
-work which he hoped to do much better, if he were in the midst of the
-young men whom he wished to interest in many ways. And before Halloween,
-he was comfortably settled in two rooms at the Hall.
-
-The evening came, clear and cold; such an evening as only the last of
-October can give. The building was brilliantly lighted from top to
-bottom, and decorated with flags and evergreen. Outside, Chinese
-lanterns and bunting lined both sides of the walk up to the main
-entrance, and helped to give it a holiday air. A band of
-street-musicians, who happened to be in town, had been engaged and were
-stationed in front of the building, where their tolerably harmonious
-strains gave just as much pleasure to the not over-critical audience
-that was fast assembling, as Thomas’ or Seidl’s men could have afforded
-them.
-
-Inside, Salome waited impatiently. Without any premeditated plan,
-Villard and Burnham placed her and Marion, with Mrs. Soule in the
-background—for she “declined to be introduced to these persons”—in the
-center of the library; and forming themselves into a reception
-committee, they drafted into service a few of the best-appearing young
-men, who presented every comer to the owner of the mills and her friend.
-After giving each one a cordial welcome and hand-shake, Salome told them
-they were free to inspect the new building as they pleased; and,
-consequently, every mill-hand, accompanied by every other member of his
-or her family, went critically over the wonderful new building, which
-seemed to their unaccustomed eyes a structure of unwonted magnificence,
-and furnished in a most luxurious style.
-
-It had been fitted up inexpensively, but with the utmost good taste. No
-carpets were on the floors, but American rugs abounded wherever they had
-seemed necessary. The library furniture was of plain, substantial oak,
-like the heavy woodwork of the room. Throughout the rest of the house,
-bedrooms, dining-rooms, and class-rooms were furnished with strong,
-neat, ash furniture. There were a few good engravings on the walls of
-the principal rooms, and the bookcases were about half-filled with
-literature of a harmless and interesting, if light quality. They had all
-agreed it would not be best to fill the shelves at first, but to watch
-the popular taste and to “leave room for improvement,” as Marion said.
-
-The operatives were simply astonished at what they saw. Some were even
-yet incredulous, and whispered that they would not be willing nor able
-to live in such a place; but many of the girls’ eyes brightened as they
-inspected their new quarters, and showed a determination, on the part of
-their owners, to come in for some of the good times they saw in store.
-It is doubtful if even the lowest ones there did not feel a new
-self-respect creeping up in their hearts. Dress may not make the man,
-but surroundings often do the woman.
-
-By half-past eight the stream of people stopped pouring through the big
-front doors. Everybody had come in, shaken hands with Salome and Marion,
-and passed along, scattering themselves over the building.
-
-“Now let’s get every one into the hall, above,” said Salome, “and have a
-little talking and some music.”
-
-It was some little time before the crowd of visitors could be gathered
-in one place, but after a while the hall was well filled, and the
-musicians installed in their place. The sound of the band, indoors,
-proved an effectual summons for the stragglers. For the first time,
-Salome, on the platform, faced a surging, eager crowd of her own people
-in Newbern Shepard Hall.
-
-She had wanted one of her two “faithful henchmen” to take the lead
-to-night; but they had each refused, saying she was better fitted than
-they; that it was eminently her own affair and not theirs, and that the
-success of the opening depended on her alone. The last argument was
-enough, and, much to Mrs. Soule’s horror at seeing “Cora de Bourdillon’s
-daughter” in such a plight, Salome presided over her first
-meeting,—“exactly as if she were one of those ‘woman’s rights women.’”
-
-When the musicians had finished, Salome stepped forward, and not without
-some inward quaking, made her first speech.
-
-It was an occasion the Shawsheen Mill hands never forgot. Salome, always
-well and appropriately dressed, had not slighted them by refusing to
-appear at her best. She wore a white China silk costume, rightly
-thinking her young people would be readily reached by the gospel of good
-clothes. Her gown was simply made, but fitted exquisitely her
-well-proportioned figure. Neck and wrists were finished with beautiful
-old point lace, and she did not scorn to wear her grandmother’s
-diamonds.
-
-Her attractive appearance, her cordial and interested manner, and her
-winning voice had pleaded her cause with the critical operatives before
-she had uttered a half-dozen sentences. Her sincerity and earnestness
-went straight to their sensibilities, and, before she had suspected it,
-every heart in the room was hers.
-
-“My dear friends,” she began, “I never made a speech in my life, and
-cannot now. I never stood on a platform before; and only my interest in
-every one of you brings me here to-night. I only want to say that this
-building, which you see now for the first time, and which I hope will
-prove a happy home for many of you, is built to my grandfather’s memory.
-Some who are present to-night remember him and love him still, I hope.”
-
-Here several gray-haired men in the audience nodded their heads, and one
-was heard to mutter, “Ay, ay, we do.”
-
-“If he had lived, I think everything in the factory would have been
-different. Your lives would have been different; and mine, too, perhaps.
-For one thing, I don’t believe you and I would have grown up strangers
-to each other. You know, by this time, I am sure, that I have a glorious
-plan for making the Shawsheen Mills the best on earth.
-
-“Not by tearing down mills and building new and more elegant ones; not
-alone by making costly improvements; but by having—and mind, this is the
-only way it can be done,—by having the best and most conscientious and
-intelligent class of operatives in this country,—and that will mean, of
-course, in the world. Now, you all know I cannot do this alone; every
-one of you has a part in carrying out this plan of mine. And unless you
-all agree to help, it will fail. Don’t think I want you to do any
-impossible thing. I only want every one of you to be the best and do the
-best you possibly can. You and I are going to have some splendid times
-in the future. We’re going to get better acquainted with each other. We
-are going to become real friends. On your part, you are going to deserve
-my good opinion and my honest friendship; on my part, I’m going to
-deserve your confidence and trust and love; and between us we are going
-to show the people of Massachusetts that a cotton-factory can become
-something more than a great machine to grind out yards and yards of
-unbleached sheeting; and that its operatives can become something better
-and greater than so many smaller wheels in the machinery. We will show
-that a factory community may be, and is, a prosperous, happy, contented
-and intelligent people.”
-
-Some of the young men could contain themselves no longer, and broke into
-enthusiastic applause as Salome uttered the last sentiment. Villard
-chuckled secretly as he observed that the leaders in it were the heads
-of the committees in the recent strike.
-
-“I’m so glad you agree with me,” said Salome heartily, when the noise
-had subsided. “Now, I want to tell you about this house. The rooms are
-all ready for occupancy. I think there are accommodations for all who
-care to come. You are to leave the old boardinghouses on the
-corporation, and I shall have them taken down at once. The price of
-board will remain the same as at the old houses. The reading-rooms are
-ready, the library is yours, and we shall soon find means of
-entertainment and work, which will keep us all contented, I hope. Mr.
-Villard will occupy rooms on this floor, and the matron, whom I will
-shortly present to you, will be on the girls’ wing. There will be but
-few rules, and those, I trust, not irksome. I cannot imagine that any
-one will not be willing to obey them. The new houses on the hill are all
-ready for the families on the corporation to move into. A few of the
-larger and better houses are to be let at an increased rental; but most
-of them will be let at the old rates. We have a plan, by which any one
-who wants to, may, after a little, buy a house and pay for it by monthly
-installments, just the same as you pay rent. But I will not go into
-details. Mr. Fales will be at the first cottage on the hill, and you can
-all make arrangements with him at any time after to-morrow morning. Now
-I have talked too long, I know, and am going to stop. I want to have you
-hear what Mr. Burnham and Mr. Villard have to say; but first we must
-have some music.”
-
-If Salome could have read the trembling waves of sympathy and reverence
-which were already vibrating from the hearts of the young people whom
-she had addressed, she would not have sat down with the feeling of
-self-distrust and failure which followed her speech. The experience, the
-very atmosphere, was unique in the history of industrial experiments.
-
-The two superintendents followed the band with speeches that were
-characteristic of each. Burnham’s, witty and tinged with sarcasm, but
-friendly and cordial enough; and Villard’s, strong with earnest purpose
-and full of brotherly love. The matron, Mrs. French, was presented,
-also, and her few remarks won a friendly recognition among the young
-folks; and then Salome announced that the meeting would adjourn to the
-dining-rooms in the basement.
-
-More refined audiences than hers have not been slow to exchange an
-atmosphere of sentiment and intellectuality for one of prosaic salads
-and cold meats, and more fanciful ices and coffee; and the Shawsheen
-operatives were soon encountering a more æsthetic collation, it is
-probable, than had ever been served them before. But as it was a
-bountiful one, they acted well their part and found no fault.
-
-The crowning delight of the evening came afterward. The young men were
-asked to lend a hand, and soon the floor was cleared in the large hall,
-and word was circulated through the house that the evening’s
-entertainment would close with dancing. Nothing could have gone so far
-toward convincing the mill-hands that Salome had meant what she said,
-than this concession to their social rights, unless it was the fact that
-she, herself,—the haughty, aristocratic daughter of Floyd Shepard, whom
-they had looked upon with envy not unmixed with hatred,—that she should
-lead the dance with the younger superintendent. An orchestra of three
-pieces was selected from the band of musicians, and Marion and Salome,
-by turns, furnished the piano accompaniment. Salome claimed her promise
-from Villard and danced merrily, not only the first figure but several
-others. Mrs. Soule was too much overcome by all she had seen and heard
-to endure this, and was taken home; but the others staid until the
-midnight hour tolled, and the dancers had all bidden good-night to their
-newly-developed friends and gone home enthusiastic in their praise of
-the new order of things in the mill _régime_, and, especially, of the
-woman who was opening to them the wider doors of opportunity.
-
-
-
-
- XIV.
-
-
-John Villard passed a wakeful night in his new rooms at Newbern Shepard
-Hall. A strange and unwonted feeling had taken possession of him; one
-which he was slow to recognize, but which cried loudly to him of his
-folly and presumption, even while it refused to be put off.
-
-After that first dance, Salome had paused by an open window and he had
-stood idly watching her. Suddenly a tremendous desire to clasp her in
-his arms, to hold her close, to demand her full surrender, swept over
-him. So sudden and strong was the passion, that it was with difficulty
-that he kept from seizing the soft hand which lay dangerously near on
-the window-sill. So over-mastering was it, that he dared not stay or
-even speak. He turned on his heel and went out under the quiet stars,
-alone.
-
-In the days when she had held aloof from the mill, and the
-superintendents scarcely ever saw her, Geoffrey Burnham had regarded her
-as “something too bright and good for human nature’s daily food,”
-looking upon her as immensely above him, socially speaking. But now that
-she had become familiarly associated with them in the daily affairs and
-interests of the mill, Burnham thought of her as having entered the
-field of good comradeship, and felt that friendly, if not exactly equal,
-terms existed between them.
-
-With John Villard it was different. He had begun by looking with a
-certain degree of scorn upon a woman who held tremendous interests so
-lightly as she had done in the old days. He had felt for her all the
-contempt a man who does not know them—a man with serious purposes—may
-feel for the irresponsible butterflies he imagines society-girls to be.
-With her deeper interest in the side of life which interested him, and
-her efforts to raise the standard of the mills, her realization of what
-to him was a sacred object in life and her devotion to it, his thought
-of her had changed.
-
-With him, familiar every-day contact had not made of her a comrade, in
-the ordinary sense of the word. Her beauty and refinement, together with
-the consciousness which never left his sensitive soul, that it was her
-wealth and her generosity which made the new conditions possible,—these
-things only served to raise her to a pedestal where she stood, forever
-apart from the rest of the universe,—a woman to be revered and
-worshiped; not a woman to be aspired to.
-
-Suddenly, he found himself in love with her. The tide of feeling which
-swept over him was one that no man could mistake. It was not enough that
-he might worship her on her pedestal, with a devotion silent and
-unknown. He wanted to hold her in his arms. He wanted her eyes to droop
-before his glance—not to look at him in the steady fashion he knew so
-well. He wanted to feel her heart beating against his. He wanted to kiss
-her.
-
-“Poor fool!” he told himself, a hundred times that night. “As if she
-would even look at me—a poor factory-boy, self-educated, self-trained,
-and—yes, self-conceited!”
-
-He remembered his youth; how poor he had been; how he had studied by
-moonlight to save the expense of a candle; how he had worked all through
-his boyhood in a cotton-mill, that he might help his older sister to
-support their mother; how, after his mother had died and his sister
-married, he had remained poor and alone and almost friendless; how
-little he had seen and known of women; how utterly lacking he was in all
-the graces of society and the refinements that he supposed to come from
-outward polish only; in short, how utterly at variance with her tastes
-and interests and aims his life had been.
-
-He remembered her life of luxury, of travel, of careful training, and
-the indulgence of cultivated, æsthetic tastes. What was he, that he
-should dare to even think of her? What but a presumptuous fool, that he
-should dream of touching even her frail, white hand? And yet, her eyes
-had drooped when they met his that day, when they all went over the Hall
-together. Stay—what did it mean? Did she?—could she feel?—but, no. He
-was a presumptuous idiot to think of it.
-
-He paced the floor for an hour. Then he lit a cigar and, under its
-peaceful influences, he tried again to fix his mind on the mills, on the
-changed condition of things, on anything,—but her. Still, constantly,
-over and over, her tall, white-robed figure took shape in the curling
-wreaths of vapor, and he fell to dreaming what it would be like to have
-a happy home of his own, with her as its center and joy.
-
-Again, he was exasperated with himself and called himself hard names. He
-threw away the half-smoked weed and resolutely prepared for bed; but
-only to toss wearily about, combating himself on the old grounds until
-the dawn, pushing its way through the crevices of his blinds, told him
-to rise and set his face again toward the workaday world. It was the
-first time that hard-working, earnest, practical John Villard had ever
-passed a sleepless night.
-
-He had hardly seen how he was to bear the daily contact with Salome,
-after that. He was too modest and too honest with himself to dream that
-there might be any hope for him. He had, at one time during the night,
-thought of leaving the mills, and going away to try a new and easier
-life than this promised to be. Then he called himself a coward and
-remembered her words:
-
-“I have depended on you from the first,” and he determined to stay, cost
-what it might. Besides, all his hopes and interests were with the
-Shawsheen workers. No: he could not leave them, he could not leave her
-now.
-
-So he went forth in the morning, unchanged in outward appearance, and
-yet, stronger and better for this first grand fight with himself. And he
-met her with his usual deferential bow and smile when, by and by, she
-came to the office for her usual morning’s study of business affairs.
-
-It was unanimously agreed that the opening of the Hall had been a grand
-success. The mill-hands, themselves, seemed to feel the new attitude
-into which they had suddenly stepped, and were already brighter and more
-hopeful.
-
-On her way to the mills, Salome had met a young overseer, who was
-hurrying in to town for something. She greeted him pleasantly, calling
-him by name, when, to her surprise, he stopped.
-
-“I’d like to thank you, Miss Shepard,” the burly young fellow began,
-“for what you are doing for us. If all the employers took the interest
-in their operatives as you do in us, we’d want no more Unions, and
-there’d be no more strikes. I’m thinking you’ve got ahead of the rest of
-us on the labor question, and found the right answer to it.”
-
-“I’m very glad to hear you say that,” Salome answered, with a glow at
-her heart which no speech from a man of the world had ever produced. “I
-want to find it, if I haven’t yet. But, you know it doesn’t depend on me
-alone. I may try, as hard as I can, but if you people don’t co-operate
-with me, I’m helpless. I want to depend on you, Mr. Brady.”
-
-“And you can that, miss,” was the hearty answer. “You’ve got us all on
-your side now, sure. I went up this morning to see the houses. They are
-fine ones, too.”
-
-“And did you pick out one for yourself, Mr. Brady? You are married, I
-believe?”
-
-“I am that; and I’ve got as good a wife as ever the saints sent to bless
-a man. Yes, I picked out the one I liked best; but the woman’ll have to
-see it first, you know. And then, do you know, I think I’ll buy it. The
-terms are so easy, and I’ve a little money laid by, that I’d like to
-use; and I’m thinking Carrie’d be happier in a home of our own.”
-
-“Now, that’s sensible of you,” said Salome, delighted that her houses
-were in such good prospect of pleasing. “If you do it, I’ve no doubt a
-good many others will. And, by and by, we shall have quite a community
-of property owners.”
-
-Brady straightened himself up unconsciously at the word, touched his hat
-and passed on, his heart warmed and gratified by the kindly notice;
-while Salome entered the office in unusually good spirits.
-
-“It seems to me,” she began, addressing herself to Burnham, “that
-everything is swinging round into the circle of my plans far better than
-I had dared hope. I expected opposition, or at least indifference, on
-the part of the operatives. On the contrary, they are all as delighted
-with the state of affairs as I am.”
-
-“Why shouldn’t they be?” was Burnham’s comment. “They’d be ungrateful
-wretches if they weren’t. They’ve far more to gain than you have to
-lose, remember.”
-
-“But you’ve been trying to make me believe,” pursued Salome, “that they
-didn’t want their condition improved; that they were satisfied to be let
-alone; and that they’d resist every improvement I offered.”
-
-“Wait a little and see;” Burnham tried to make his tone impartial, if
-not skeptical; “you’ve only begun yet. Don’t expect the habits of months
-and years, the loose customs and low tastes, are going to be overthrown
-in a single night. The affair of last night, for instance, was doubtless
-the most orderly entertainment and the quietest dance they ever had. But
-it don’t follow that they will all of them be satisfied to drop entirely
-the old order of low dances when they had plenty to drink, even if they
-didn’t have salads and coffee, or ice-cream and cake. There’s no telling
-how many of them will be stealing off to those places before winter is
-over.”
-
-“Then we must get up some form of entertainment that will hold them to
-us,” said Salome firmly. “They sha’n’t fall back, if anything we can
-compass can save them.”
-
-Villard looked across his big ledger at her, as if she had been an angel
-sent from Heaven direct, to preach a higher political economy to the
-cotton factories of earth. She caught his look and smiled back at him;
-but she said no more.
-
-She did not speak to him until just as she was ready to go home.
-
-“How do you like your new quarters, Mr. Villard?” she said, then. “I
-hope you rested well last night?”
-
-Villard remembered his sleepless hours vaguely, as in a dream. She
-looked so bright and untroubled herself.
-
-“You deserted me after that first dance. Did I dance so badly that you
-feared or dreaded to be caught by me again? If it hadn’t been for Mr.
-Burnham and Mr. Fales I should have felt quite a wall-flower.”
-
-“You never could be that, Miss Shepard,” poor Villard managed to say.
-
-“Well, as soon as the young people get moved in we must start some
-classes. I know a good dressmaker whom I can get, and Marion will teach
-them some other things, if they want it.”
-
-She lingered some minutes, talking over the Hall and her plans, and left
-him with a confused image of herself mixing up with the figures of the
-ledger in a most incongruous way. Alas! John Villard was to have many a
-hard fight with himself before he could drive away that image at will.
-
-The young operatives—and all that dwelt within the corporation
-boarding-house walls—began that very night to pick up their effects, and
-make ready to move into their new quarters. Mrs. French had all she
-could attend to in preparing for her large family, assigning rooms, and
-attending to the thousand details of opening the Hall. But before the
-week was closed, every old boarding-house was closed and the new home
-full.
-
-Marion Shaw found her time altogether occupied. Her work was to lie
-directly among the girls, as Villard’s influence was to save the boys
-and young men. Marion had a gentle and pleasing manner that made friends
-everywhere she went. She had had a good deal of experience in managing
-boarding-school girls, and although they are a widely different class
-from factory girls, human nature—girl-nature, is the same everywhere.
-Before the week was over, Marion had made friends with many of the
-girls, and had already interested them in keeping their rooms tidy, in
-forming a girls’ club, which should embrace all sorts of good ends, and
-in rousing in them what was of infinite value in the work she had laid
-out,—a desire to become as near like her and Salome as it was possible
-for them to be.
-
-“We shall have to endure the cross of having them cut all their dresses
-like ours, wear ribbons like ours, do up their hair like ours, and get
-up the most astonishing hats purporting to be like ours,” said she to
-Salome one night; “but if it all comes of their wanting to be like
-us,—you understand me, dear,—I mean of their wanting to reach a higher
-ideal of course,—we can bear it.”
-
-“We shall have to,” was the answer. “The truth of it is, they will be
-trying to copy our habits and manners and characters, too.”
-
-“Then we shall have to be all the more careful,” said Marion seriously.
-
-Life to Marion Shaw was a serious thing. Although she was but
-twenty-seven years old, she had come to realize that life may not be for
-any what the fancy of youth pictures it; and even to realize that the
-highest good which life can hold is not to be happy. Already she knew
-that happiness is but a relative term, and that only by ceasing to
-search and plan for it, can any of us find it even in small degree.
-
-Just now, she walked dangerously near to happiness. On the opening
-night, Geoffrey Burnham had kept closely at her side all the evening,
-and after the affair was over, he had walked home with her, while Robert
-Fales had gone ahead with Salome.
-
-At the door, the two had paused a little, looking at the exquisite,
-moonlit October night. Suddenly the extraordinary interest Burnham had
-felt in this young woman had culminated. He seized both her hands in
-his, and pressed them close to his breast.
-
-“Why have you not come to me before?” he murmured, passionately. “Why
-have you waited all these years?”
-
-“I was waiting for you,” she answered, with a smile.
-
-
-
-
- XV.
-
-
-One evening in January, Salome and Marion went over early to Newbern
-Shepard Hall. Marion’s duties called her there every evening, and she
-was seldom unaccompanied by her friend.
-
-The success of Salome’s schemes for the interest of the working-girls
-seemed already assured. Although the Hall had been open but little more
-than two months, classes in dressmaking and millinery and in domestic
-science were already established, and were well attended. Some girls
-there were, it is true, who felt that, after working all day, they were
-entitled to an idle evening, or to the right of amusing themselves after
-their own fashion. But plenty of young women had been found to open the
-classes, and the number was steadily increasing. No strong measures had
-been taken to induce these girls to join. Marion had talked with some of
-them individually, at first, and found a few who, half skeptically, had
-consented to try the dressmaking class, as an experiment. Then the
-announcement was made that a class would be opened on a certain night,
-and twenty-six girls were present. Instruction in sewing, cutting and
-fitting was given free to any woman connected with the Shawsheen Mills.
-As the girls had been paying exorbitant prices for having cheap material
-poorly made up, and as Salome had provided instructors from the best
-dressmaking establishment Shepardtown afforded, the girls were not slow
-to see the benefit that would come to them.
-
-The young wives of operatives, too, women with houses and children to
-care for, then began to avail themselves of the privileges which the
-class afforded. So that, on this January evening, there were over a
-hundred and fifty women in the classes, and another room had been opened
-to them on the ground floor.
-
-It was the same with other classes. At first, the young women had joined
-with the older ones in “pooh-poohing” the cooking and housekeeping
-lectures and demonstrations. The idea that they and their mothers did
-not know how to cook, and that Salome, who knew absolutely nothing of
-such matters, essayed to teach them, was a most distasteful one. But
-when they found that a celebrated teacher was to come out twice a week
-from Boston, and give demonstrations in the model class-rooms below, and
-that a graduate of the Boston Cooking School had been engaged to take
-charge of the lessons every evening, they, the young married women from
-the cottages, especially, dropped in from curiosity; and although they
-had come to scoff, they remained to cook. In short, they had become
-deeply interested in the new ways of housekeeping, and were surprised
-and delighted to find a way of making their few dollars go farther and
-procure a better and more healthful living. Consequently, these classes,
-too, were full, although the older matrons did not yet give up their
-prejudices.
-
-Among the girls who had not yet joined the classes, there were many who
-sat quietly in their own rooms or in the large reading-rooms, and
-enjoyed the current magazines and papers, or gossiped quietly and
-harmlessly about the fashions and each other—not altogether unlike women
-of higher pretensions. It was astonishing, even to Salome, who had, from
-the first, believed in her girls, how few of them went out on the
-streets at night.
-
-“It is not astonishing to me,” said Marion, that January evening, in
-reply to a remark from her friend to this effect. “The girls are tired
-at night and are only too glad to have a pleasant, light and
-steam-heated place to stay in. Their rooms at the old boardinghouses
-were cold, barren and dismal. In winter weather they could not sit in
-them, and the so-called parlor was not much better. When I was at Mme.
-Blanc’s one of her servant girls went wrong. I shall never forget
-something she said. When Madame heard of it, she sent for the girl and
-asked her, bitterly, what had made her bring such a scandalous thing
-upon a select house like hers. I was in her room at the time. The poor
-girl looked up at Mme. Blanc and said, ‘O, ma’am, you’re awful
-particular about where your young ladies spend their evenings,—girls
-that you’re paid for looking after. But us servant girls—how did you
-look after us? You didn’t allow us a light in our own rooms, or to speak
-above a whisper in the kitchen, or seem to think we was human beings at
-all. What else could we do, but go out on the street when we wanted a
-bit of freedom? And once, on the street, ma’am, girls like us ain’t
-never safe. If you’d looked out for me, ma’am, and treated me as well as
-you treat your own dog or cat, it would never have happened.’ Poor
-Madame was overcome entirely, and the girl left her white with rage. But
-she looked after her servants more closely afterward, and kept them in
-at night in warm rooms. I don’t believe our girls want to do
-wrong,—especially if we make it comfortable for them to do right.”
-
-On the young men’s side, things had gone equally well. There was a class
-of them who, like their fathers before them, were sturdy, honest and
-faithful. It was a small class, but upon these John Villard depended to
-counteract the influence of the lower foreign element that had crept in;
-and to the pride of these he appealed, both directly and indirectly, in
-his efforts to establish a better social atmosphere among the
-operatives.
-
-With a few of these to begin with, he had opened an evening school on
-the other wing of the Hall; and, as in the case of the women’s classes,
-it had increased in numbers and interest from the start. The overseers,
-almost to a man, gladly availed themselves of its opportunities for the
-education that the true American always feels the need for; and they,
-with the better class of men from the looms and mules, set the example
-for others to follow.
-
-No better man for the work could have been chosen than John Villard. He
-had come up under much the same conditions that governed them. He had
-begun on the lowest round, and worked up to the position he now
-occupied, by hard work and the closest application to business. This
-fact, together with his attitude toward them during the strike, had made
-him a favorite with nearly every man on the works. They felt that they
-could place the utmost confidence in Villard; and in the Shawsheen
-Mills, as everywhere, a rugged sincerity and honesty of purpose carried
-a weight that even the most unstable felt.
-
-The lecture-hall was usually packed at the weekly entertainment which
-Salome provided, and a new feeling of content and self-respect had begun
-to permeate the mills. Make a man who has been looked upon as a mere
-machine feel that he is estimated at something near the worth which
-every human being feels in his heart that he is entitled to, and you
-have done much to raise him to a higher social standard. For the first
-time since old Newbern Shepard’s day, the mill-hands began to feel a
-just pride in being individual American citizens. Unconsciously, both
-men and women were setting their faces toward the higher standards which
-Villard by his life, and Salome by her newly awakened energy, had set
-for them.
-
-At the mills, affairs were on a most flourishing basis. The Shawsheen
-brand of cloth was too well known to allow of a few months shutdown of
-the mills making any difference in the law of demand. Orders had
-increased, even while the mills were closed, and they had been worked to
-their utmost capacity ever since they had opened. Never had the
-Shawsheen Mills been more prosperous than at the beginning of January,
-or their future looked brighter.
-
-When Villard had opened his evening school he invited Burnham to
-co-operate with him; but the latter had put him off without a definite
-reply, and not until the afternoon of the day referred to in the
-beginning of this chapter had Villard asked him whether or not he might
-count on his assistance. Burnham occasionally looked in at the Hall of
-an evening, but Villard had begun to suspect that this was principally
-for the purpose of seeing Marion Shaw.
-
-“Well, to tell the truth,” Burnham finally admitted, “I’ve no taste for
-this sort of thing. Oh, yes; it’s a good scheme, and seems to be working
-first-rate; but I’m not the right fellow for the place. I don’t like
-philanthropic work, never did, never shall. I work hard enough during
-the day. I need rest and freedom at night.”
-
-Villard smiled.
-
-“And I suppose I don’t do anything day-times and need this sort of thing
-as recreation and intellectual stimulus?” His tone was sarcastic, for he
-had little patience with selfishness in any form.
-
-“No, not that,” said Burnham. “You work hard enough—too hard, in fact.
-But all this is more in your line. You’re like Miss Shepard; you’re both
-of you happier working yourselves to death for others. Now, I’m not
-built on that plan. I’ve no faculty for teaching, and I’m sure that my
-well-meant efforts to meet the men half-way are looked upon by them as
-condescension on my part.”
-
-He waited an instant for Villard to speak, but no answer came.
-
-“I can’t help it. I wasn’t born to the manor, so to speak. I didn’t come
-up from the ranks, as you know. I suppose they’d believe in me more, if
-I had. But you know that my father put me under Mr. Greenough to learn
-the business, only after I had graduated from college and fooled away a
-year in Europe. I sometimes doubt if I’m not out of place in this mill
-as it is run nowadays.”
-
-“Oh, no, not that,” put in Villard hastily. “You’re too good a business
-man. We couldn’t spare you.”
-
-“I can see how it’s all coming out,” Burnham continued, as if he had not
-heard Villard. “You two” (Villard’s heart jumped at the words) “will go
-on and make a model institution of the Shawsheen Mills. I should doubt
-if you made a profitable one, only that I know you’ve got a mighty good
-business head on your shoulders; and, I say, the way Miss Shepard is
-developing is a caution to us men. I’d no idea she’d take such a
-practical turn, or learn the details so readily. Oh, I can see where
-it’s going to end. She’ll be the recognized head and you’ll be her first
-assistant. As for me, I sha’n’t be in it. I shall have resigned.”
-
-“Jeff!” It was only occasionally that these two called each other by
-their boyhood names.
-
-“Yes, I don’t think I should care to have it known that I worked under a
-woman, much as I admire and respect Miss Shepard. There’d be no other
-way, unless I married her!”
-
-Villard turned pale with sudden, inward rage, but he said nothing.
-
-“Don’t think I’d have much chance there, though,” Burnham went on
-lightly. “You’re more her style. And you’re both so much wrapped up in
-good works that you’ve no time for faith in each other, beyond what you
-waste in philanthropic effort. Miss Shepard don’t seem to be the
-marrying kind. I don’t believe she ever thinks of a man unless he has
-the merit of being an operative in the mills.”
-
-“And since you’re bent on discussing matrimonial matters,” observed
-Villard, with sarcasm, “how about Miss Shaw? And when are the
-wedding-cards to be issued?”
-
-Burnham shook the ashes from his cigar and looked at his watch
-critically.
-
-“Marion Shaw is a fine girl,” he said. “She’s the right kind of woman to
-tie to; but”—and Burnham took up his hat to go out—“I’m not the marrying
-kind either.”
-
-So Villard had come to understand that he must take care of his evening
-school as best he could alone.
-
-Robert Fales had settled in Shepardtown. There were to be more cottages
-built in the spring, and to him Salome had alone confided her plan of
-erecting a new church which should be named for her grandfather. When
-the evening school began to grow, he went to Villard and offered his
-services as assistant, and had proved a most valuable one.
-
-This evening Salome looked in upon them, and asked Villard if he could
-give her a few moments after the class.
-
-“I shall be very glad,” he replied. “I have been working up the idea you
-spoke about the other day, and wanted to talk with you about it.”
-
-“The profit-sharing scheme?” asked Salome. “That’s just what I wanted to
-speak of. It seems to me we ought, now, at the beginning of the year, to
-get it into manageable shape, and tell the men, so that they may know
-what to expect. I will be in the reception-room when your class is
-through.”
-
-Much as Villard was interested in his work the remaining hour dragged a
-little. The prospect of a quiet _tête-à-tête_ with Salome, even on so
-unromantic a subject as profit-sharing, was too alluring.
-
-But, at last, he found himself face to face with her, and for a few
-moments forgot all else in the pleasure of listening to her voice and
-watching the curve of her chin and mobile lips, as she talked of
-immaterial things.
-
-“And now, what kind of a plan have you formulated as to the
-profit-sharing?” she asked, after a little.
-
-“Profits—oh, yes,” said Villard, suddenly brought to himself. “I have
-examined all the accounts of such experiments in foreign countries, and
-tried to remember the differing conditions and better wages here. I have
-prepared a rough draft of a circular which I thought perhaps you might
-like to send out among the hands. Do you want to see it?”
-
-“Of course,” was the answer.
-
-“I don’t pretend it is complete, you know,” he went on, drawing a folded
-paper from his inner pocket. “It is only an abstract, but—here it is.”
-
-“Read it to me, please,” said Salome.
-
-He would rather have had her read it, while he watched her face; but he
-complied.
-
-“For some time past,” the circular read, “the subject of co-operation in
-some form has been considered by the Shawsheen Mills. Believing that
-capital and labor are interdependent and their interests identical, it
-has been decided to adopt some plan by which the laborer may obtain a
-share of the product in proportion to the profits of the scheme, at the
-same time guaranteeing his wages against the time of loss.
-
-“It is now proposed, therefore, to divide a sum among the Shawsheen
-employes, each year in which there are surplus profits, over and above
-wages earned.
-
-“Understand, that before anything can be set apart for this purpose,
-wages must be paid, interest must be paid, and a fair profit on capital
-must be paid. In addition to this, an additional amount must be set
-aside to make good the wear and tear of buildings and machinery, and to
-strengthen reserve funds against a time of depression.
-
-“Ordinarily, the sum above all these amounts must be small, and must
-differ, of course, with the fluctuations of the market, the depression
-of trade, and the wear of machinery from year to year. It will be
-readily seen, also, that the sum to be divided will be enlarged by extra
-care and attention on the part of employes. Every weaver who makes a
-mis-pick, every burler who slights her work, every spinner who makes a
-needless knot; in short, every person who makes an unnecessary waste of
-any kind, makes the amount to be divided smaller, by making a loss to
-the concern; and, on the other hand, if every person in the mill attends
-to the little savings, the wool-washers saving every scrap of wool, the
-spinners making less waste, the weavers weaving up the whole bobbin, and
-so on through all the branches, a great saving can be made which will
-effectually increase the sum to be divided; and it will be for the
-direct interest of every employe to exercise such increased care and
-diligence.
-
-“The mode of distributing this bonus will be by making a dividend of so
-much per cent. upon the wages earned by each person. If, after all
-contingencies are provided for, there is not enough left to make a
-dividend of one per cent., no dividend will be made for that year. In
-case of a dividend it will be paid on and after the first day of May in
-each year to all employes who have been in employ at the Shawsheen Mills
-for at least seven months during the year, and shall not have been
-discharged for drunken or disorderly conduct. The amount of wages earned
-during the year preceding the first of April shall be the amount upon
-which the bonus for each individual shall be computed.
-
-“The profit for the present year, if there be a dividend, will be paid
-on or after the first day of May. Let every person connected with the
-mills work so faithfully, making every effort toward a wise economy,
-that the first dividend shall be an encouraging one.”
-
-John Villard stopped reading the circular and looked across at Salome.
-She was regarding him with a fixed look of admiration and reverence,
-such as a good woman feels for but one man in a lifetime. For an instant
-his pulses leaped; but he was too modest a man to believe in his own
-good fortune.
-
-“Well, what do you think of it?” he asked.
-
-His words brought her to herself. Her expression faded to one of mere
-brightness, and became less frankly honest.
-
-“I think it capital,” she said. “I do not see how it can be improved.
-Will you let me take it home and consider it?”
-
-“Of course,” he assented. “You know I do not pretend it is perfect. But
-it seems to me we risk nothing in trying it.”
-
-Salome rose to go and reached out her hand for the manuscript. Some
-pieces had fallen on the table and in gathering them up, their hands
-brushed against each other.
-
-An electric thrill shot through the frame of each. Salome stood,
-blushing and sweet, suddenly conscious that a crucial moment in her life
-had come. Had Villard but spoken, had he but clasped the hand that still
-remained near his!
-
-But, ever depreciating himself and knowing absolutely nothing of the
-heart of woman, he turned abruptly away, bringing Salome back to herself
-with a hasty “good-evening.” And then he strode away to the outer air,
-asking himself, savagely, why he was so weak and boyish because a pretty
-woman happened to touch his hand.
-
-
-
-
- XVI.
-
-
-All through the winter months, Geoffrey Burnham and Marion Shaw were
-constantly meeting. As Burnham had intimated to Villard, he had taken
-only a superficial interest in the philanthropic or ethical side of
-mill-economy. But he was often at the Hall of an evening; and upon
-pleasant nights, when the ladies walked over from the Shepard mansion,
-he accompanied them home after the evening’s engagement. If it were
-early, as on ordinary occasions, he went in and sat chatting with them
-for an hour or two. Mrs. Soule always welcomed him, and although she
-never went to the Hall, she found ample opportunities of telling him how
-many lonely hours it caused her.
-
-“I often wish Salome cared half as much,” she used plaintively to say on
-these occasions, “for a living aunt as for a dead grandfather.”
-
-Often, Burnham sang to Salome’s accompaniment, his rich tenor voice
-lending pathos, and his ardent glances a meaning, for Marion in the
-love-songs he sang so well. The latter sat silent at such times, a quiet
-content wrapping her round, forgetting the past, ignoring the future.
-
-“A blind man’s paradise,” she told herself it was, as the weeks rolled
-by, and the glamour of a scarcely hinted but very evident passion waited
-in vain for more than the vaguest expression.
-
-Sometimes the two were left alone for a while, when the conversation
-took a fitful tone, as if uncertain whether to be light and frivolous,
-or tender and deep. Several times Burnham had seized Marion’s
-unresisting hand and kissed it passionately; and, finally, one evening
-when they were alone, he had put his arm about her waist and drawn her
-close to him.
-
-“Why have we not had each other all these years?” he asked, looking into
-her sweet, confused eyes. “What cruel fate has kept you from me?”
-
-“It does not matter, does it, so long as we have each other now?” Marion
-had asked in reply. And then he had bent and kissed the pure white brow
-and the clustering rings of hair.
-
-After this, every night, Marion, kneeling by her bedside alone, thanked
-God for the love that had come to brighten her bereaved life.
-
-And Burnham? Did he realize what he might be doing when he won this true
-and loyal woman’s heart? At first, he, too, was happy in the present.
-The past held nothing which he was proud to remember; and into the
-future he stubbornly refused to look. He had, for years,—“since his days
-of adolescence,” he told himself,—had no interest in women, although he
-knew that, in a place like Shepardtown, he was the object of several
-fond mammas’ machinations, and the admiration of most of the village
-girls. He had never met Marion’s counterpart. She interested and
-fascinated him. Simple and childish in many ways, she was grave and
-dignified in others. Her life, he could see, would be spent for others.
-She was one of those women who are a constant sacrifice to the world
-around them; who give openly and always of their best, asking and
-expecting little in return. In short-Burnham knew it as well as any one
-could—she was a woman whose life and love and utmost service would be
-absorbed by a selfish man, only to be as unappreciated as they were
-undeserved on his part. And yet, ever since their first meeting, months
-before, there had been that subtle consciousness of each other drawing
-them on, that wave of feeling on meeting, that positive yearning when
-they were separated.
-
-After Villard’s pointed questioning regarding Marion, Burnham began to
-question himself seriously. At first, when thoughts of the future had
-intruded into his calm moments, he thought of her as his wife; of
-himself as settled down in a house of his own; he even expected to be
-happy. But he did not put his thoughts into words. When he was with
-Marion, he avoided—not so much from intention perhaps as from a
-reluctance to break the spell of romance which hung over them—any
-mention of different relations in the future.
-
-It was April before he brought himself to face about and look at the
-subject, calmly and seriously. Just where was he drifting with Marion?
-
-One day he allowed himself to let fall some remark about her to
-Villard,—not in any way implying their peculiar relations, but yet
-speaking of her in such a way that Villard drew himself up to his
-straightest, and looked him in the eye a full moment. Not a word was
-said, but at that instant, Burnham felt the disagreeable consciousness
-of being a scoundrel.
-
-He went home that evening and tried to read. Then he tried to smoke.
-Then he thought of going over to the Shepard mansion. He finally decided
-on sitting down and squarely meeting an issue that should have been
-faced six months before.
-
-Geoffrey Burnham was thirty-seven years old. He had considered only his
-own taste and desires ever since he was born. When he was a boy, if he
-had wanted anything, he had it. If his father did not grant his every
-wish his mother would. And she, poor woman, had fostered in him the idea
-that all his personal, imperious desires were meant, always, to be
-immediately granted. The conquering of Self had been no part of his
-early discipline.
-
-His father died when he was in Europe. When he came home, and entered
-the mills,—an arrangement the father effected just before his
-decease,—his pretty, white-faced mother had come to Shepardtown to be
-near her son. For him she lived and would die. Yielding weakly in
-everything to him, she avenged her position by setting herself against
-all other women. Salome had called upon her, and had invited her to her
-house, but in vain. Mrs. Burnham went nowhere, and wanted to see no one.
-Her son was all in all to her. And but for the constant fear that he
-would marry the handsome Miss Shepard, who, with all her wealth, she
-felt sure, would crowd her completely out of her son’s heart and home,
-she would have been a comparatively happy woman. Incredible to
-larger-hearted women, as it seems, there are women so selfish in their
-devotion to an only son, as to wreck his life, so far as its being of
-any practical value to himself and others is concerned, by the strength
-of their own weak persistence.
-
-Burnham thought of his mother. He remembered the comfortable habits he
-had settled into; he wondered if any other woman would ever let him
-smoke in the best room in the house, or submit to his will when he
-chose, as he often did for days together, to speak only in monosyllables
-in his own house. He felt that, should he marry, his habits would all
-have to be changed; that the solitude which he prized, when he felt so
-inclined, might be absolute no longer. He remembered his mother’s
-peculiarities, and said to himself that there would be a devil of a row,
-should he undertake to bring a wife home. There might be constant
-bickerings, and that he never could abide. No; better let women alone.
-
-Then he thought of Marion and sighed. Her tender eyes, when he parted
-from her two nights before, came up before him.
-
-“Hang it,” he asked himself; “just how far have I gone with her,
-anyway?”
-
-He felt himself a scoundrel again, to his credit be it written. But
-then, there were the habits of a lifetime, and his mother to be
-remembered. Could he overthrow all his established convictions?
-
-And yet, just what might Marion be expecting of him? No, he had given
-her no definite encouragement in words. Still, one never can tell how a
-good, pure woman is going to take these things.
-
-Burnham went out under the April sky and walked up and down the concrete
-walk bareheaded, until his mother, from her window, reminded him for the
-third time that he would certainly get cold out there; and shouldn’t she
-make him a cup of hot negus? Then he came in and renewed the conflict.
-
-“I’ve let the thing run too long,” he said to himself, as he gazed into
-the open wood-fire, having refused the decoction his mother had
-patiently brought him. “I’ll have a reckoning with myself to-night, and
-decide this thing once for all.”
-
-Burnham was a decided man, and, once determined, seldom changed his
-mind. He boasted, sometimes, of that quality, forgetting that it is only
-an ignorant or an unprogressive soul which will never acknowledge itself
-in the wrong, or change its course from the one marked out, perhaps in
-obstinacy or error.
-
-Until midnight he argued with himself, although, unconsciously, his mind
-had been secretly made up at the start. When the clock struck twelve he
-rose and got together his writing materials.
-
-He had fully decided that it would be folly for him to marry Marion
-Shaw. She was a rarely devoted, unselfish woman, and a most lovable one;
-but he knew himself, he said, and if she married him she would do so
-only to be unhappy in the end. She could not be otherwise, living with
-him and his mother.
-
-But how was he to withdraw from the delicate situation in which he had
-foolishly placed himself? There was, he decided, but one way.
-
-For a year, now, Salome Shepard had been making a deep and practical
-study of the mills and their operation. She had proved a wonderfully apt
-scholar, her womanly intuition often grasping, in a few minutes, details
-which he had been months in learning. He doubted if, should occasion
-require it, she could not run the mills alone. With Villard—honest,
-faithful soul!—to help her, Burnham felt that there was no longer any
-need of his services at the Shawsheen Mills. There was another
-superintendency in a mill at Lowell which stood open to him, whenever he
-chose to take it. There were some things about it that he would not
-like; but he must not remain on dangerous ground. He took great credit
-to himself as he reflected that honor required him not to trifle with
-Marion’s feelings another day. He virtuously decided to take himself out
-of her way. Once gone from her she would cease to feel his attraction
-and forget the tender scenes between them. He would resign his
-connection with the Shawsheen Mills.
-
-He sat down and wrote the letter of resignation. Then he went to bed and
-slept. He, like Villard, had kept awake hours for a woman. But he was
-not the man to conquer his selfish nature, or to grow stronger by
-fighting himself.
-
- * * * * *
-
-The next morning Salome found Villard alone in the inner office of the
-mills. A note lay on her desk. It was Burnham’s resignation.
-
-She uttered an exclamation of surprise, and turned to Villard.
-
-“Did you know about this?” she asked, handing him the note.
-
-Villard looked as astonished as though a dynamite bomb had exploded in
-the mill-yard.
-
-“Not a word,” he said. “But stay, he did hint at something, months ago;
-but I never gave it a second thought. ‘Decided that he is no longer
-needed on the works, and an opportunity having offered to better his
-condition.’ H’m! Those are his reasons? Strange he hadn’t mentioned the
-matter to me although it _was_ his own business.”
-
-“But what are we going to do? Can’t we get him back?” asked Salome.
-
-“We can try,” was the reply, “but Burnham is a pretty determined fellow
-when he fairly makes up his mind. Shall I go over and see him?”
-
-“If you please. Tell him to come back with you; I want to persuade him
-to stay if I can.”
-
-Villard went over to Burnham’s house, but he had already gone to Lowell
-to complete arrangements to enter the new position. Mrs. Burnham knew
-nothing of either this plan or her son’s sudden resignation. Villard
-returned to Salome.
-
-“What are we going to do,” she asked, “supposing he refuses to come
-back—even at an increased salary?”
-
-“Don’t you think you and I can run the business alone for a while?”
-returned Villard, “at least until we can find a good man. Good
-superintendents don’t grow on every bush.”
-
-“Do you think I am capable of taking his place—with your help, of
-course?” Salome looked earnestly at him.
-
-“I think you are quite capable of doing anything noble and great,” he
-answered, fervently.
-
-“With your help,” she said, in a low tone. “Of course I will do
-anything, and shall be only too proud,” she hastened to add, “if I have
-succeeded in learning enough of the business to be of any use.”
-
-Villard looked again at her averted eyes, and checked an impulse to say
-something more. Had he known a tenth as much of women as of cotton
-factories, his fortune and happiness had been in his own hands. But he
-honestly thought she had turned away her eyes and spoken the last
-sentence to turn him away from saying more; while she was saying to
-herself as she turned to her desk again:
-
-“Will he never, never speak? It will come, some time, I am sure, but
-will he never dare?”
-
-
-
-
- XVII.
-
-
-Burnham returned to Shepardtown only to tell his mother that he should
-go to Lowell immediately. He had accepted the standing offer there, and
-expected to begin at once.
-
-In vain Salome offered him an increase of salary. And as he was
-evidently bent on going, she would not urge him to remain in her employ.
-But both she and Villard could assign but one reason for his sudden
-determination. Both felt sure that he had offered himself to Marion and
-that she had refused him.
-
-Intimate as Salome and Marion were, no discussion of love-matters ever
-entered their conversation. With each, love was too high and sacred a
-thing to be bruited about, even in a conversation between friends. In
-their younger days, when Marion had shyly announced her engagement to a
-young law-student, there had been no silly or sentimental waste of words
-between them on the subject. And now, perhaps because both women felt
-the stirrings of a deep passion in their inmost heart, no reference to
-the subject was ever made.
-
-When Salome went home to lunch, she told Marion of Burnham’s
-resignation; but beyond a momentary look of blank astonishment Marion’s
-face gave no sign. And Salome’s feeling for her friend was too deep and
-too delicate, to ask for what she did not choose to tell voluntarily.
-
-Burnham would have been glad to leave town without risking himself in
-Marion’s presence again.
-
-He feared to trust himself with her, in the presence of the strange
-attraction she had held for him. But common courtesy demanded that he
-should call at the Mansion to leave his good-byes.
-
-Marion heard the news of his resignation with a strange sinking of the
-heart. Something told her that this was the end of her foolish, happy
-dream. And although she loyally refused to acknowledge her doubts, the
-strange presaging which was something more than presentiment lurked in
-her heart all day, and kept her uneasy and restless. She half expected
-Burnham to come in and by a few words settle the question of their
-relations. She even asked herself, how she could best leave Shepardtown
-if he insisted upon taking her to Lowell.
-
-But he did not come until evening. Then it happened, as events will in
-this strange world, that she was with her classes at the Hall. Salome
-was unusually tired that evening and had remained quietly at home.
-Burnham dropped in about eight o’clock, sat for half an hour with her
-and Mrs. Soule, and then bade them good-bye, leaving his adieu for
-Marion. He did not go to the Hall, although she half expected him all
-through the long evening. The next morning he took an early train for
-Lowell.
-
-When Marion came home she heard in amazement that Burnham had been there
-and gone. Salome gave her his word of parting.
-
-“And was that all?” Marion asked, with strained voice and blazing
-cheeks.
-
-“That was all. Tell me, dear,” asked Salome, for the first time, “was
-there any trouble between you? Had you anything to do with his going?”
-
-“No, nothing,” and Marion was gone to her room.
-
-On the first day of May, the experiment of profit-sharing was put into
-effect for the first time at the Shawsheen Mills. In spite of the
-strike, and the enforced idleness of several months which had followed,
-previous to the year just passed, this had been a successful one, and
-when the divisions for capital, machinery and reserve fund had been set
-aside, there still remained a surplus which gave a dividend of four and
-a half per cent. In some cases, this dividend on wages made a very
-considerable sum, and in all cases the operatives felt a new sensation
-of direct responsibility and connection with the mills. Besides the
-addition of this money to their wages, the feeling of brotherhood and
-ownership it engendered was, Villard declared, quite worth the
-experiment.
-
-Another circular was sent out, urging the operatives to increased care
-in saving and painstaking in order that the dividend might be larger
-another year. And the good results of the plan were directly manifest in
-the work of nearly every employe.
-
-A little incident which occurred soon after this did much to convince
-the men of the changed relations in which they now stood towards their
-employers.
-
-An overseer had been tyrannizing over the spinners until they would
-endure it no longer. In Mr. Greenough’s day, it is more than probable
-that the matter would have culminated in a lock-out or a strike.
-
-But with the new order of things came a greater feeling of confidence in
-Villard. Five of the spinners, therefore, with the consent of the
-others, went personally to the superintendent.
-
-After hearing their story, Villard promised to settle their grievance,
-and quite a discussion of economic questions concerning Capital _versus_
-Labor followed.
-
-“You men have labor to sell,” said Villard, “and we buy it. We have the
-products of your labor to sell, and the commission merchants and others
-buy it. As much courtesy and fair dealing should exist between us, as I
-like to have between us and the men to whom we sell. We would not take
-insolence from a broker’s clerk; you need not put up with the tyranny of
-an overseer.”
-
-These words, repeated to the other employes, were the most powerful
-preventive against strikes ever tried in the Shawsheen Mills.
-
-As the summer advanced, other new cottages were built on the hill to
-accommodate the growing demand from the operatives. All those built the
-previous year were occupied, and many of them had been bought on the
-installment plan. Although the community around the Shawsheen factories,
-as it now existed, had come suddenly into its new relation, it already
-represented almost an ideal one. It was already a practical lesson in
-social economics, which many a reformer and many a capitalist would do
-well to study. To be a capitalist even in a small way is to learn to
-respect capital. The fact that these men owned their small plots of
-ground and their cottages (even if they were mortgaged for the greater
-part of their value) was already dignifying the laborer by the tangible
-proof of his own value.
-
-By this time, Salome had come to know every family who were in the
-employ of the mills. Was there trouble coming to any household, was
-there sickness, was there affliction among them, they all turned to her
-for help and sympathy, encouragement or congratulation. The smallest
-events—the birth of a baby, the progress of measles, the love affairs of
-the young, the querulous complaints of the old—were all of interest to
-her; and they, in return, appreciated her kindness and returned it with
-a loyalty of service that did her soul good.
-
-Salome often declared, laughingly, that her relations to them were truly
-patriarchal. An atmosphere of content and friendliness prevailed where
-there had been jealousy and bickering.
-
-The popular entertainments were kept up during the summer. There were
-concerts, at which local talent (often some operative who possessed the
-faculty of singing a song) appeared. Salome, herself, often presided at
-the piano, and Marion frequently lent her voice; their theory being that
-young people who took little or no vacation in summer needed some sort
-of recreation in summer as in winter.
-
-Towards the close of the summer, as Salome came out of the Hall one
-evening, one of the young men came up to her side, and asked if he might
-speak to her alone.
-
-“Certainly,” she said; “Mr. Fales, will you walk ahead with Marion,
-while O’Donovan walks home with me?”
-
-She remembered the young fellow perfectly. She had seen him first during
-the strike, a handsome young dare-devil who seemed, in fact, to be one
-of the ringleaders among the younger men. When the mills had re-opened,
-she had taken an uncommon interest in him. He was a faithful and
-industrious man, and when, after a few weeks of sneering at the
-“new-fangled notions,” he had settled into harmony with the strange
-atmosphere, he had tried to improve himself in many ways. When Villard
-took charge of the evening school, he had held aloof for a few weeks,
-but at last joined one of Fales’ classes. In their entertainments and
-dances, he had taken leading parts; and that day, Villard had offered
-him the post of overseer in one of the minor departments at the mills.
-It was quite a step up for the young man, and Villard had been surprised
-at his hesitation in accepting the offer.
-
-Salome knew all this; and as she heartily liked the fellow, she
-determined to influence him for his own interest.
-
-O’Donovan was silent for some moments, after they started, doubtless
-being unaccustomed to escort ladies of her degree in that friendly way.
-But Salome soon put him at his ease by her kind and easy manner.
-
-“And so you’re going to be promoted,” she said, after a little. “I hope
-you like that?”
-
-“Miss Shepard,” he blurted out in confused speech, “that’s what I want
-to talk about. There’s something—I mean, I want to tell—I _ought_ to
-tell you something, Miss Shepard.”
-
-“Very well. It oughtn’t to be very difficult to do that,” and her tone
-was cordial and encouraging.
-
-“I don’t think I ought to take the position—unless you say so. But I
-expect you’ll put me in irons, if I tell you. Only—well, the other
-fellows would say I was a blasted fool—barrin’ your presence, miss.”
-
-“Why, John,” exclaimed Salome wonderingly. For the young man was in a
-great state of excitement. “What can it be? Surely, you know you need
-not be afraid of me?”
-
-“You remember the night some one tried to blow up the mill—and Mr.
-Greenough—and Mr. Villard——” Salome stood still and gazed through the
-summer moonlight at her strange escort. He did not look up, but stood
-like a culprit before her.
-
-“I don’t know how you managed to find out and save ’em,” he went on.
-“Miss Shepard—it was me.”
-
-“You? John O’Donovan!” For an instant there was silence.
-
-“Go on,” she said, when she could command her voice. “Tell me all.”
-
-“It was John Ross that planned it and put me up to it. When he died, I
-wondered if he hadn’t told you or Mr. Villard. Ever since then, I’ve
-been trying to, but somehow I couldn’t—tell Mr. Villard—nor you
-neither.—It was John Ross that planned it. He called me a coward and a
-scab—and, finally, well—you know I was a crazy fool then, with the rest
-of ’em.—It ain’t no use talkin’, miss, but we all discussed and brooded
-over things until we were half out of our heads. If any one of us had
-weakened first, we’d all give up, and the strike would have bu’st;
-but—well, ’tain’t no use talkin’, I s’pose. I’ve confessed, and you can
-have me put in irons, if you want to.”
-
-“How did you come to want to tell me, John?” Salome said softly.
-
-“Oh, miss, when I found how you saved the mill that night, and the lives
-of those two men, I went down on my knees with thankfulness. It somehow
-seemed to open my eyes to where I’d been standin’. Then, when the mills
-opened and you took us back, and when you commenced to take an interest
-in us; when you built that beautiful big Hall, and all them cottages;
-and, if you’ll pardon me for sayin’ it, when you begun walkin’ thro’ the
-mills yourself, speakin’ a pleasant word to us all and smilin’ at us as
-if we were all your equals, miss—and you a saint,——it was then I seemed
-no better’n a murderer. And when John Ross died, and the detectives gave
-up lookin’ for the men, it was bore in on me as how I ought to confess;
-and to-day, when Mr. Villard called me into the office and praised my
-work, and said I’d been faithful and trustworthy——_trustworthy_,
-ma’am!—why, then, I couldn’t stand it no longer.”
-
-The young man stood silent in the moonlight. Salome’s eyes were filled
-with tears.
-
-“John,” she said, “you are a noble fellow. It is no more than right that
-you should confess this to me, but not all fellows in your place could
-do it. You can because you have the making of a man in you.”
-
-The young man looked up.
-
-“And what are you goin’ to do with me?” he asked.
-
-“Will you do just what I say?” returned Salome.
-
-“I will, indeed,” he said.
-
-“Then I want you to go to Mr. Villard to-morrow morning and tell him you
-accept the place. Then do your best, and deserve better things in
-future.”
-
-“Miss Shepard!” Young O’Donovan fairly gasped.
-
-“John,” she went on, and she seemed to him like the pictures of saints
-in the church, as she stood in her white gown in the silvery light, “if
-your scheme had succeeded, you would not only have destroyed most
-valuable property of mine; you would have killed two of my dearest
-friends; but you have turned over a new leaf. I feel sure that nothing
-will ever induce you to consent to anything of the kind again.”
-
-“Never, so help me Heaven!” he exclaimed, fervently.
-
-“Now, you have confessed like a man, I will forgive like a woman. You
-will accept the new place. You will go on studying and improving
-yourself, and some day I shall be proud of you, and you will be proud
-that you once had the manliness to come to me and confess a crime. Now,
-we will bury the thing forever, and never speak of it again. Only
-promise me you will go to Mr. Villard in the morning and do as I ask
-you.”
-
-“I promise,” said the young man solemnly. Then he dropped on his knees
-and seizing her hand, bent his head reverently upon it.
-
-“If the God in Heaven above is like you,” he said, “He is a God worth
-serving.”
-
-“My poor forgiveness resembles His, John, only as a drop of rain
-resembles the mighty ocean.”
-
-They walked silently home, and O’Donovan left her with a new purpose in
-his heart that has never left it since. He is to-day a thriving
-Christian gentleman. Dare any one say it would have been better to
-condemn him as a law-breaker?
-
-“Nobody but a woman, I suppose, would have dealt justice so,” said
-Salome to herself, as she put out her light an hour later, and turned to
-the window—“nobody but John Villard.”
-
-
-
-
- XVIII.
-
-
-A year rolled by—a year of prosperity to the Shawsheen Mills, and of
-growth and improvement in the condition of their operatives. John
-Villard had been made first superintendent and a new man had taken his
-place. Salome continued to act as her own agent and had developed a keen
-love and tact for the business,—a condition of affairs which Mrs. Soule
-never ceased to bemoan.
-
-The young people at the Hall were more than ever the dearest objects of
-her solicitude. In most cases, their elevation had been steady and
-substantial. Young men had become self-respecting and carried themselves
-with increased dignity. Young women gradually grew less frivolous and
-more earnest. Thrown together under so much better conditions than
-formerly, both sexes emulated the politeness which they were quick to
-notice between Villard and Salome. They became more quiet and decorous;
-they read a better class of books; they began, in their way, to
-cultivate higher tastes than had been known in the old factory
-boarding-house or among the tumble-down tenement houses. Several
-marriages had taken place, at which Salome had acted as the girl’s
-guardian, giving away the bride. Young O’Donovan’s was the first of
-these. His increased pay as overseer enabled him to marry Kitty Kendall,
-to whom he had long been devoted; and the young bridegroom was even
-happier than the bride when Salome offered to act in that capacity.
-Neither of them would have dared ask it of her, but her evident
-willingness to act on this occasion encouraged those who came after,
-until Salome said she felt all the responsibilities of a mother with a
-large family of daughters.
-
-As Villard saw all this marrying and giving in marriage, he grew, at
-times, more restless. There were occasions when he came suddenly upon
-Salome, or, perhaps during their rare talks together, when he felt sure
-for a moment that she felt for him more than a friendly interest. But,
-remembering his comparative poverty, he never spoke the one word which
-would have broken down all barriers. And Salome successfully concealed
-her feeling for him, not daring, even, to examine it herself. So they
-had drifted on, more than friends and less than lovers, through another
-year.
-
-There came, at last, the first period of absence from each other since
-Mr. Greenough’s death. Daily association, pleasant as it is, cannot
-teach lovers how much they love, as can a short separation.
-
-The second dividend of the mills had been declared, each operative
-getting three and a half per cent., this time, on their wages. When the
-work consequent on this transaction was closed up, it was decided to put
-new machinery in the lower mills. There was an improved kind in one of
-the Holyoke mills, and it was decided that Villard should go,
-personally, to examine its workings, leaving Salome and the second
-superintendent alone for a few days.
-
-Villard had made his preparations to start with a strange sinking at the
-heart. He was not a man to indulge in silly presentiment, but he could
-not feel any enthusiasm about going. He had not taken two days away from
-the mills in two years, and was justly entitled to a vacation; but every
-time he thought of going to Holyoke, his heart sank within him.
-
-He thought it was because he must leave Salome, and chided himself for
-his sentimental fancies. He told himself to be a man; not a silly fool.
-And, finally, he refused to think of his premeditated journey, since he
-could not do so comfortably.
-
-He was to leave Shepardtown on a seven-thirty express, west. Salome
-remained at the office unusually late that afternoon. She made him go
-carefully over her various duties, and recount, over and over again,
-everything necessary for her to say or do while he was gone.
-
-The other superintendent was called away early, and she was left alone
-with Villard in the inner office, the clerks coming in and out and
-Marion dropping in once on a trifling errand.
-
-Finally, she said:
-
-“Well, I suppose I must bid you good-bye. I hope you won’t be gone
-long.”
-
-She held out her hand and Villard took it. A subtle fire shot from it
-straight to Villard’s heart. He looked up. Were her eyes, so soft and
-kind, suffused with tears? Was this the strong, self-reliant Salome?
-
-“Miss Shepard, Salome,” he burst out, incoherently, “I——”
-
-“Come right in this way,” said a hearty voice at the other door.
-“Villard will tell you what you want to know——”
-
-“Good-bye,” said Salome again, in the most matter-of-fact tone,
-releasing her hand just in time, as the other superintendent ushered in
-a buyer from the west. “Good-bye and good luck;” and turning, she walked
-away with the nonchalant air which a woman knows so well how to assume,
-even at the most serious moment of her life.
-
-Poor Villard was both confused and exalted by the sudden dawn of
-blessedness, which had as suddenly faded. He turned to the buyer but was
-incoherent, and gave wrong prices on the last shipment of cotton, so
-that his customer felt obliged to call him back to his senses by a not
-over-delicate allusion to the parting he was shrewd enough to guess he
-had interrupted.
-
-Salome went home in a strangely depressed mood. She ate but little
-dinner, and excusing herself early in the evening on the plea of unusual
-weariness, she retired to her room, undressed and donned a silken
-night-wrapper, only to lie awake all night, worrying herself with
-fruitless questioning. In the watches of the night and under cover of
-the dark, she told herself that she had given her heart unsought; that
-had Villard loved her as she did him, nothing could have kept him from
-saying so; that she had been vain and conceited in fancying that, under
-his quiet demeanor, he loved her.
-
-Then she remembered his sudden, yearning look when he had grasped her
-hand, and that, from the depths of his great, manly heart, he had called
-her “Salome.” And then, woman-like, she shed a few hot tears of
-gratitude and impatience.
-
-Marion Shaw, meanwhile, had gone to the Hall alone that evening. Her
-work among the mill-girls had grown dearer to her heart with every
-month. Most of the girls loved her now, and looked upon her as a
-comrade, though walking on much higher ground than they. Many of them
-had secret aspirations to reach the standard of her ideals, as they
-dimly conceived it, and were the better for trying.
-
-Marion had not had a long fight with herself when weeks had rolled into
-months, and she heard no word from Burnham.
-
-She had always been an individual girl—one who thought for herself, who
-set high ideals for herself, who believed that one only does one’s duty
-by living at one’s highest and noblest.
-
-When she was a mere girl she had become acquainted with a young
-college-student, and their friendship ripened into love. When she became
-engaged to Ralph Leland, Marion looked upon her betrothal as no less
-sacred than a marriage vow. When, after a few years of study and close
-confinement in a theological seminary, Leland had shown symptoms of
-consumption and been ordered to Colorado, her mother was slowly nearing
-her death, with the same disease. It had wrung her heart with anguish to
-decide between them, but Leland had said:
-
-“Stay with your mother, Marion. She cannot live long and needs you with
-her to the end. I shall live many years, and, I feel confident, may yet
-entirely recover. It is hard, but your mother can have but a year or two
-at the most. I hope to live for many years. And we could neither of us
-be happy if we remembered her here, sorrowing and suffering alone.”
-
-And so Marion had staid to nurse her dying mother, and Ralph Leland had
-gone west to seek health and strength. In two months he was seized with
-congestion of the lungs and died suddenly, away from all friends and
-apart from her.
-
-What Marion suffered at this time, only a woman can understand. What she
-endured, only a woman who has gone down into the blackness of despair
-can conceive. Her mother failing gradually, her lover gone, what wonder
-that, for a time, life seemed a blank?
-
-After the first, she had not talked about Ralph, but nursed his memory
-silently, day and night. For eighteen months, she took sole care of her
-mother, seeing her slip away into the “great unknown,” inch by inch.
-Never did the mother realize that she was going to die, and she
-constantly made plans for the next season when she was going to be “so
-much better.” Often Marion, knowing she was soon to be motherless, would
-leave her low seat near her mother, and stand behind the invalid’s chair
-to hide the tears that welled up, even while she agreed with the
-invalid’s plans.
-
-Day by day, the gnawing agony of seeing her mother slowly dying before
-her melted into and overshadowed the loss of that love which was to have
-shielded and defended her till death. But she never gave way, before
-mortal eyes, to her sorrow; and she never failed to minister to the
-mother who so needed her care.
-
-By and by she was left alone. Then, for the first time, did the awful
-sense of loss overpower her. For days she did not sleep or take any
-nourishment. Then she rallied and girded herself for the struggle for
-existence which such women must make, and which, in her case, had been
-eased by the door which Salome had opened to her.
-
-Through all her trials and discouragement, Ralph Leland had been a
-present reality to her. Even since the first blackness of darkness she
-had believed that somewhere, somehow, she would meet him as of old, and
-they would live again for each other. Then she came to believe that he
-loved her still, wherever in God’s great universe he might be.
-
-“When he was in Colorado,” she used to say to herself, “I never had a
-doubt that he loved me still. If he had gone to the farthest corner of
-the earth I should not have dreamed of his forgetting me. Why should I
-now, when he has only gone to a remoter part of the universe?”
-
-This thought was the one, calm, sustaining help to her in all her work.
-And in this belief she was strong to take up any burden which might be
-laid upon her.
-
-When she came to Shepardtown and met Burnham, she had been struck by the
-subtle, strange resemblance to Ralph which she saw in him. It was more
-than the mere resemblance of feature. It was the resemblance of
-expression, of looks, of the intangible essence of life.
-
-From this point on, so long as she came in daily contact with Burnham,
-she was fascinated by this ever-recurring resemblance; sometimes she was
-half-persuaded that it was Leland who talked or sang to her, and she sat
-watching him in dreamy remembrance of the old days, before her mother or
-Ralph had sickened. As she grew gradually to believe that Burnham loved
-her, she thanked Heaven that a good man’s love was to brighten her life
-once more. When the veil was rent away, and she saw that Burnham was not
-the true, white-souled knight she had thought him, and realized that he
-was not the ideal she had believed and trusted in, she was surprised to
-find that she no longer loved him. And then she thought out the true
-solution.
-
-On the night of Villard’s departure, as has been said, Marion had gone
-to the work she most delighted in—her work among the girls. There were
-classes to be overlooked, and her own special one in singing to be
-taught. She was half through the musical hour, when she turned suddenly
-towards the door. There stood Geoffrey Burnham.
-
-Afterwards she remembered how little feeling the sight of him caused
-her. But then she said pleasantly:
-
-“Oh, won’t you walk in and hear us sing? My girls have made decided
-improvement since you heard us last,” and she went on composedly with
-the class.
-
-Burnham looked on wonderingly. As he watched this self-possessed young
-woman, his old passion flamed up within him. He had never cared for her
-as at that moment. When the class was over, she advanced toward him.
-
-“Aren’t you going to shake hands with a fellow?” he said, holding out
-his own.
-
-“Certainly,” she said, without the least emotion. He would have retained
-his hold upon her hand, but she withdrew it, saying:
-
-“To what accident are we indebted for this unexpected pleasure?”
-
-“I came,” he said, “on business. I must see Villard. But they tell me he
-won’t be home for several days. There’s a certain combination of forces
-we want to get him into, if possible.”
-
-“You won’t, you know,” laughed Marion, “unless it’s for the good of the
-working-men.”
-
-“Well, it is,” answered Burnham. “A society is being planned for Lowell,
-which will do for the operatives there something like that which Villard
-and Salome and you have been doing here. I said I would come down and
-consult with him to-night. Besides, I——can’t you guess any other reason
-for my coming?”
-
-“Oh, plenty of them,” replied Marion indifferently. “I suppose you feel
-a friendship for all who were once your people, and rather want to see
-them once more.”
-
-“Not that, at all,” said he significantly, determined now that she
-should hear him out. “Are you going home? May I walk down with you?”
-
-Marion gave her permission and went for her wraps. She half felt what
-was coming, but she was strangely apathetic.
-
-When they were out under the stars, the talk began in commonplaces; but
-Burnham soon veered it round where he chose.
-
-“Why are you so cold?” he asked, half querulously.
-
-“Cold?” she repeated, purposely misunderstanding him. “I’m not cold.
-This wrap I have on is warmer than it looks.”
-
-“And your heart,—is that?” retorted he.
-
-Marion did not answer.
-
-“You know I love you. I—know you once loved me,” he went on, losing his
-head, as a consequence of her indifference. “Perhaps you resented my
-treating you as I did. Perhaps I didn’t do right, going off that way,
-without a word; but I thought it better so. You see—my mother,—and
-I,—Marion Shaw!”—he seized her hand, grasping it in both his own—“will
-you marry me?”
-
-Marion withdrew her hand.
-
-It was cool, and she felt like a spectator at stage theatricals which
-did not concern her.
-
-“Marion, you did love me, you can’t deny it!” he said. “What is the
-trouble?”
-
-“I’m sorry you have brought this subject up to-night,” she said, gently.
-“It had much better have remained dead and buried.”
-
-“Marion Shaw, you shall not evade me so,” retorted Burnham, led on by
-her steady refusal to respond to his passion. “You did love me—I was
-sure of it—or else, you are the basest of coquettes, and were playing
-with me. And now you are tired of me!”
-
-“As you were of me!” she blazed out, now roused into speech. “Listen,
-since you dare address me as you do. I did not love you. You thought I
-did. I thought I did. When you found it convenient for some reason, I
-neither know nor care what, to leave me without a word, I found, for the
-first time, that I was only in love with _being_ in love. No,—wait until
-I am through. Ten years ago I became engaged to the bravest and best and
-truest man that ever lived.” Marion’s voice broke, but she went on. “He
-died and I kept on loving his memory, loving him wherever he might be.
-When I met you, the striking resemblance you bore to him smote me like
-an electric shock. You seemed good and noble like him, and under the
-glamour of your constant presence and evident fancy for me, I allowed
-myself to drift into a sentimental feeling for you. I now see what that
-feeling was. It was only a love of being in love; and you happened to be
-the one man I have met so far, and I hope the only one I shall ever
-meet, capable of calling that feeling out. You have compelled me to
-speak plainly. I hope you are satisfied. This is our gate. Miss Shepard
-has retired, but she will be glad to see you at the office in the
-morning. Good-night.” And Marion left him standing rooted to the ground
-where she left him.
-
-For a few days Burnham felt himself a badly used man. He had loved and
-his love had been trampled on, he said to himself.
-
-He went back to Lowell the next day, promising to write Villard; and a
-week after, when he had settled down at home again with his dainty and
-querulous mother, he went calmly over the ground of his defeat.
-
-“She never did a more sensible thing in her life,” he declared, as he
-lighted his pipe, at last. “It would have been an awful bore to have to
-live up to her ideal.”
-
-
-
-
- XIX.
-
-
-Three days passed at the mills with no special incident. To Salome they
-seemed the dullest she had ever known. For the first time, she
-discovered that the Shawsheen Mills and the condition of its operatives
-was not enough to satisfy the inmost longings of her heart, or to still
-its disquietude. Without the presence of John Villard, and the constant
-inspiration of his presence, life lost its zest and sparkle.
-
-When the three days were over, Salome went to her pillow at night with a
-sense of relief. Until now, she had not realized what her position at
-the head of the mills might mean without Villard. She saw that without
-him she could have done little, and would have made many mistakes—a fact
-which it was good for her to realize. And then she remembered, with
-sudden terror, that he might leave her at any moment, as Burnham had
-done.
-
-“He will be home in the morning,” she said to her disquieted heart, “and
-I will offer him a share in the business. I will make him a partner, and
-then I shall never lose him.” And even in the darkness of night and the
-privacy of her own room, she resolutely put away from herself any other
-contingency.
-
-The morning dawned beautiful, fresh and balmy, as only a spring morning
-late in May can dawn in New England. Salome dressed herself with unusual
-care. A strange, happy feeling under-ran all her thoughts. She would not
-think of him; she would not look forward to his coming; but, for her,
-all the gladness of the May morning, all the blossoming of spring
-flowers, all the caroling of joyous birds, meant only that Villard had
-arrived in Shepardtown on the night express, and that she would see him
-in an hour or two. She did not hurry her preparations for
-breakfast,—this was such a strange, delightful mood. She looked at her
-own reflection in the mirror, thinking unconsciously of making herself
-fair for him. She sang snatches of merry song from the last comic opera,
-laughing to herself as she recalled how her nurse used to forbid her
-singing before the morning meal, and how she used to repeat, in a
-lugubrious tone, the old sign:
-
- “If you sing before breakfast,
- You’ll cry before night.”
-
-And, still singing, she stopped at her aunt’s room, only to find that
-everybody had gone downstairs before her.
-
-Mrs. Soule and Marion were chatting pleasantly over their hot-house
-grapes when she entered the breakfast-room. The morning papers lay
-untouched beside Salome’s plate. She took her place and leisurely pared
-an orange. Afterwards she remembered the time she wasted in cutting the
-peel into fantastic shapes.
-
-“Has nobody looked at the papers?” she asked, after a while. “I declare,
-how self-absorbed we are growing. Who knows but the world has, half of
-it, come to an end, over night?”
-
-She picked up one of the papers—the one which contained the most
-startling head-lines, the most sickening sensations. Opening it, her
-eyes became riveted to the front page. Her face paled. She grew whiter,
-but no one noticed. When Marion looked up, the paper was falling from
-Salome’s hand, and she had fallen back in her chair—faint, speechless
-with terror.
-
-With a cry, Marion sprang to her side; but Salome, by a tremendous
-effort, recovered herself.
-
-“Read it,” she gasped, “and tell me what to do.”
-
-Marion picked up the paper, and read:
-
- HORRIBLE ACCIDENT ON THE ALBANY ROAD.
-
- THIRTEEN KILLED AND TWENTY WOUNDED.
-
- TERRIBLE SLAUGHTER DUE TO CARELESSNESS.
-
- PROMINENT BUSINESS MEN OF BOSTON AND SHEPARDTOWN AMONG THE INJURED.
-
-Running her eye hastily down the column, Marion gathered that the night
-express had been crashed into by a heavy freight; that both trains had
-been thrown off the track; that many passengers had been killed,
-scalded, mangled or bruised.
-
-She looked quickly over the list of killed. There were no familiar
-names; but at the head of the wounded was:
-
-“John Villard of Shepardtown. Fatally injured. Impossible to recover.”
-
-She turned to Salome, who was already leaving the table.
-
-“Help me to get ready,” she said. “I must go to him immediately.” Marion
-marveled to see her so calm; but she knew only too well the anguish
-concealed in the woman’s heart below.
-
-“What is it? What are you going to do? Why does not some one tell me?”
-asked Mrs. Soule.
-
-“Dear auntie,” and Salome bent and kissed the fair, soft cheek, “there
-has been a terrible accident to the train that Mr. Villard was coming
-home on. I am going to him. He is dying.” Then she left the room.
-
-In less than an hour she was at the railway station, waiting for the
-train to Boston. At the last moment, Mrs. Soule, having recovered from
-the shock which the news had given her, had tried to dissuade her niece
-from going.
-
-It seemed to her that this was the strangest thing her unaccountable
-niece had ever done. She really must remonstrate with her on the
-impropriety of her conduct. And seeing that Salome would not be
-restrained from making this erratic trip, she proposed to go, too, as
-chaperon. Only Salome must wait for the noon train, as she could not
-possibly get ready for an earlier one.
-
-“The noon train!” exclaimed Salome, buttoning her gloves. “No, auntie,
-Mr. Villard may not live until then. I shall go to him at once. You
-forget that I am no longer a young girl. I am a business woman, and my
-chief assistant lies dying.” She bent over and kissed her aunt, who was
-still remonstrating, and ran down the steps to the waiting carriage,
-where Marion had already taken her seat.
-
-Marion, too, had offered to go with her; but Salome had only replied:
-
-“No, dear. If you will take my place here, that is all I ask.”
-
-And when the train finally drew out of Shepardtown, and she had left her
-friend standing on the platform, she gave an involuntary sigh. Only the
-strong heart, which can best bear its grief alone, will understand her
-feeling.
-
-The train had never seemed so slow to her. Strained and anxious with
-that nervous intensity which makes a woman waste her strength in a
-half-conscious physical effort to propel, by her own will-power, the
-great, unsympathetic, methodical engine, she sat straight up in her seat
-with heart and soul benumbed. Constantly before her, was the picture of
-John Villard—mangled, bleeding, dying—perhaps dead. Her brain reeled as
-she thought of him lying pale and cold in death.
-
-She remembered how, only three days ago, he had clasped her hand and
-looked into her eyes; how he had called her “Salome,” his voice deep and
-tender with emotion. Dead? No, it could not be. And still the long,
-unfeeling train stopped to take on its horde of passengers, or to let
-off a working-man or a school-girl.
-
-The hour’s ride to Boston seemed to her an eternity; and when, at last,
-they rolled into the long, covered shed, Salome was first to reach the
-steps, and first to touch the platform.
-
-Ordering a carriage, she was soon on her way across the city. But here
-again the slowness of her progress drove her nearly frantic. She called
-to the driver and told him she would double his fee if he caught the
-next train for the scene of the accident. He did not know what time that
-would be, but he accepted the offer and drove at such a rate of speed
-that an agent of the Humane Society ran after him to catch his
-number,—and did not succeed.
-
-When they reached the Albany station, Salome threw him the smallest bill
-she had, a two-dollar one,—and without waiting for the change, hastened
-to the ticket-office. It was beset with more than the usual crowd of
-curious questioners and eager passengers, whose plans the accident had
-thrown into confusion. It was some minutes before Salome could reach the
-window. She was about to turn away in despair when the agent recognized
-her.
-
-“Let that lady pass, there,” he said, authoritatively; and then Salome
-learned that a relief train had been sent early in the morning, that
-another would be starting in ten minutes, and that regular trains would
-be run in the course of an hour or two, “carrying by,” at Jones’s
-Crossing, where the accident had occurred.
-
-“And the injured ones, are they still——” her voice failed her.
-
-“They are still living,” answered the agent. “But some of them are so
-badly hurt they must die. Stand back there, one minute,” he said to the
-crowd. “Well, I don’t know, miss, whether you could go on the relief
-train. You might go out and ask, though they’ve shut down on the crowd.”
-
-Salome turned away. For the first time since breakfast a clear thought
-came into her brain. She went out to the train-gate.
-
-No, they could not take any one. There were so many wanting to go, and
-they only took one car. Oh, a friend of the injured? Well, she must go
-to the division superintendent, or the general passenger agent. There
-was the “G. P. A.” over there.
-
-Salome walked over to the official designated,—a pleasant gentleman with
-kind eyes.
-
-“I am Miss Shepard of Shepardtown,” she said; “my chief superintendent
-is among the injured, and is probably dying. He has no friends, and I
-must get to him. Can you help me?”
-
-The official took out a little book, wrote her name on a blank pass, and
-handed it to her.
-
-“Anything we can do for him or for you, Miss Shepard, we shall be glad
-to do. You needn’t hesitate to ask. Your grandfather was once kind to
-me, when I was a poor boy.”
-
-The passenger agent hurried away to the engine, giving some last orders,
-and Salome did not have a chance to thank him.
-
-“You’ll have to hurry, miss,” a brakeman said who was standing near.
-“The train is going.”
-
-A moment later she was on the way for Jones’s Crossing.
-
-This train had the right of way and a clear track for some distance.
-They seemed to fly, as they sped out through the suburbs into the
-country beyond.
-
-The bloom of the May morning was still on the tender, up-springing grass
-and the fresh foliage of the trees. Birds sang cheerfully on, in spite
-of the thundering engine on its way to the scene of woe. But there was
-no more beauty in the world for Salome.
-
-Three or four physicians sat in the corner of the one baggage-car which
-they all occupied together, and, used as they were to scenes of death
-and suffering, talked indifferently of politics and the misdoings of
-Congress. The brakeman laughed as the conductor passed him with some
-trivial remark. To Salome it seemed that she alone, of all the world,
-cared because thirteen persons lay dead and twenty more were fatally
-injured, a few miles away.
-
-Afterwards, when she saw the tenderness and courageous sympathy of these
-people among the suffering, she reversed her judgment.
-
-A small woman in black sat at the opposite end of the car, and was the
-only other passenger.
-
-“Who is that?” She stopped the conductor to ask the question, at last
-drawn out of her own sorrow by the pathetic attitude of the woman’s
-figure.
-
-“That’s the engineer’s mother. He is fatally hurt. He’s the last of her
-five boys, and her sole dependence. It’s pretty rough on her; but the
-boys won’t let her suffer.”
-
-His words came like a reproach to her. What right had she, with all her
-wealth and friends and pleasures, to think of herself as the only
-suffering one? What was her sorrow, compared to that of this bereaved
-mother?
-
-She felt an impulse to go over to the motionless figure and speak a word
-of comfort. And then she felt the train slacking up.
-
-“We’re almost there,” the conductor said, as he passed her again.
-
-When the train stopped, two of the physicians, having heard who she was,
-came forward with offers of assistance. The others were kindly aiding
-the pathetic old lady in black.
-
-And then Salome found herself face to face with such a scene as she had
-never even dreamed of.
-
-The public is, through the “enterprising” journalistic system of the
-present day, already too familiar with such scenes of sickening horror.
-To Salome, this one came as the vivid realization of things she had
-hitherto carefully avoided in the newspapers.
-
-At first, she turned faint and sick at the prospect. Several dead bodies
-lay plainly in sight, partially covered with a blanket. The living must
-first be cared for; and groans on every side, from those who, even yet,
-had not been extricated from the debris, told how much still remained to
-be done.
-
-“Tell me,” she said, catching at the arm of a doctor who had been on the
-ground since daybreak, “where is Mr. Villard?”
-
-“Villard? Let’s see—tall man? Dark hair and full beard? Yes. He was
-removed to the tavern over there an hour ago.” And he passed on to
-another sufferer.
-
-Salome looked across the railroad track, in the direction the physician
-had pointed. There was a country store, a “tavern,” and three or four
-less pretentious buildings.
-
-Hastily she clambered over the torn-up track, down the embankment and
-across the narrow, open field. There were no signs of life around the
-group of houses. Everybody was at the scene of the accident.
-
-She walked into the tavern. It seemed to be deserted. Through the narrow
-hall she could see, at the end of the building, a dining-room; at one
-side was the office, where no one was in view. The clerk heard her step,
-however, and came hastily from the dining-room.
-
-“Is there a Mr. Villard here?” she began—“a patient, from the accident?”
-
-“There are three men upstairs who were hurt,” the clerk answered.
-“There’s no one here to tend office, or I’d show you up.”
-
-“I must find him. Is there no one to show me the way?” she asked,
-impatient at this last trivial delay.
-
-“They’re each in different rooms up there,” was the reply. “Walk right
-up the stairs. There’s nurses up there. They’ll tell you.”
-
-Salome turned up the narrow, dingy staircase. At the top there was no
-one in sight. Groans came from behind a closed door. Inside, she could
-hear voices, subdued to an undertone. In the absolute silence, she heard
-the word “amputation.” Could this be Villard’s room?
-
-She leaned against the wall, unable to try that latch. While she stood
-there, helpless and dazed, she lifted her eyes to the opposite doorway.
-It was open.
-
-Inside, there seemed to be no one. Certainly there was no attendant. She
-stepped forward and looked in. There, on the white, clean bed, lay the
-form of John Villard, his face whiter than the pillow it rested against,
-his dark hair contrasting strangely with his paleness.
-
-With the sight, all the repressed love of the last two years swept over
-Salome like a resistless impulse. A hand seemed clutching at her heart.
-Her limbs seemed paralyzed; but in an instant she was beside the bed,
-looking down at the closed eyes. A terrible fear that he was dead swept
-over her. With an inarticulate groan, she knelt beside him and laid her
-hand against his face.
-
-He opened his eyes and smiled faintly. He thought he had died and
-reached Heaven.
-
-
-
-
- XX.
-
-
-Villard’s convalescence was slow and tedious. When Salome had found him,
-his dislocated shoulder had been restored to place, and his broken ankle
-set. Then, as there were not nurses enough for the great need, he had
-been left alone.
-
-What passed in that first ten minutes after Salome had found him is
-still a sacred memory between them. At last, she said, looking at him
-through wet eyes, “You must have a nurse.”
-
-“Oh, Salome, do not leave me,” he answered; and his voice, weakened from
-his injuries and tender with the passion which, at last, he had not been
-afraid to declare, was like music to her heart.
-
-She bent her blushing face upon the pillow beside him. “May I stay and
-take care of you?” she asked, softly.
-
-“May you? Oh, Salome!”
-
-Another silence fell between them. Both hearts were too full for words.
-
-“Then we must be married to-day.” Salome had waited a little for him to
-say it; but, manlike, he had not been thinking of the proprieties.
-
-“I cannot leave you to hired nurses now,” she murmured. “So, there is
-only this one way out of it.”
-
-“And a blessed way it is.”
-
-And so they were married, that bright May morning, amid scenes of
-anguish, and while Villard still hovered near the gates of death. And
-for weeks they remained at “Jones’s Tavern,” he ill, wretched, racked
-with pain; she, bearing the trials and discomforts of the place, vigils
-of long night-watches, the dull, dragging anxiety; and yet, there was
-never a happier or more blessed honeymoon.
-
-When he was able to be moved on a stretcher, he was taken to
-Shepardtown. Their home-coming was a glad one, although it was
-necessarily quiet. Every operative in the mills had been at the station,
-when the train that bore the two who had done so much for them came
-steaming in. Salome nodded to many of them, with moist but happy eyes.
-But the family physician, who had met them in Boston, would allow of no
-hand-shaking.
-
-“Time enough for that by and by,” he told the men who stood foremost in
-the crowd. “Do you want to kill him?”
-
-He could not prevent several of the strongest ones from stepping
-forward, however, and taking the stretcher in their own hands, and
-bearing Villard very gently to the waiting carriage.
-
-“I never thought to enter this house so,” Villard whispered to Salome,
-when he was carefully borne up the stairs in the Shepard mansion and
-placed tenderly in bed.
-
-“Thank Heaven, you were permitted to come, even _so_,” she replied, with
-a shudder. He had been so near Death’s door, instead!
-
-“I can’t and won’t say I approve of what you’ve done,” said Mrs. Soule
-that night. “If you must marry him at all, I could not see why you
-should want to do it then and there. You might have waited, I think, and
-had such a wedding as befits a daughter of the Bourdillons. Besides, all
-this watching and care has pulled you down. You look pale and worn.
-You’ll lose your beauty before you are thirty-five.”
-
-Salome did not answer. These matters seemed so trivial.
-
-“I suppose, at least, you’ll give a reception when he gets well enough.
-You really owe it to society and your own position. All your father’s,
-your mother’s, and your own friends will expect it. You have planned for
-that, I suppose? Since you had no wedding gown, you ought to give
-Redfern _carte blanche_ for your reception gown. Have you written them?”
-
-“Auntie,” said Salome, “John and I have been, in these past weeks, where
-we did not think of party gowns.”
-
-“No, I suppose there was not much at Jones’s Crossing to remind you of
-them. But now, you certainly are thinking of one _now_?”
-
-Salome sighed. There was really no use in expecting her little,
-exquisite, cameo-cut aunt to understand her.
-
-“I suppose we may give some sort of reception. All my people are waiting
-anxiously to see John,” she said.
-
-“Factory-people!” exclaimed Mrs. Soule indignantly; but her niece had
-moved away.
-
-It was several weeks later, when Villard was first able to come
-downstairs. As soon as possible for him to bear the excitement, the
-operatives were invited to the house one evening, and permitted to shake
-hands with the man whom they had always considered their friend, and to
-whom they had now become closely endeared. The marriage between him and
-Salome had, somehow, seemed to draw him closer to them. They were now
-his people as well as hers.
-
-“This isn’t going to take you away from us at the Hall?” said one of the
-young men during the evening. “Mr. Fales and Mr. Welman are good—but
-they are not you.”
-
-“I shall be there every evening,” was Villard’s reply. “I am much more
-anxious not to lose you than you can be not to lose me.”
-
-“I don’t know about that,” the younger one said.
-
-When they had all gone away, and Marion had sent them both upstairs for
-the night, Salome drew her husband down to her favorite seat in a cosy
-bay-window, where the August moon was streaming in through vines and
-foliage, making a checkered radiance around them.
-
-“John,” she began, “I have a plan to tell you.”
-
-“What is it, dear?” he asked, drawing her head to his shoulder.
-
-“I am going to retire from active business.” She laughed softly.
-
-“What _can_ you mean?”
-
-“Can’t you see? I’m going to retire. You are now the head of the
-Shawsheen Mills.”
-
-Villard said nothing. In spite of the great love between them, he could
-not forget that she was wealthy nor that he was poor.
-
-“I have to-day made over the entire mill property to you,” she went on.
-“I am not going to have it said that your wife has all the money and all
-the power, and that you are only her dependent.”
-
-“Salome! you dear, generous heart,” said Villard brokenly; “I cannot
-accept.” He felt that she had divined his sensitiveness, although she
-had been too delicate to speak of it. “I am poor, but I am not a
-beggar.”
-
-“And I, too, am proud,” she replied, laying her hand on his cheek. “I
-will not have people saying that you are tied to a rich wife and are
-subject to her whims. Oh, I know how they talk; I have seen and heard
-them all my life! Why, they would say you were a fortune-hunter.”
-
-“You do not think so?” he asked, gently.
-
-“Confess, dear,” she answered him. “If it had not been for that,
-wouldn’t you have spoken long ago?”
-
-Villard pressed her closer.
-
-“I came very near it, as it was,” he said, presently. “But I could not
-bear to be thought that.”
-
-“I had the necessary papers made out this afternoon,” she said after an
-eloquent silence, “when I was out. So you see the thing is done whether
-you will or not. You need have no hesitation. I still have a large
-fortune left, you know, from the Bourdillons.”
-
-“If it were anybody else in the world but my noble, generous wife,” he
-began, “I would refuse, even now.”
-
-“If it were any one else but my noble husband,” she replied, “I could
-not yield control of the mills, and all the plans I have cherished for
-the employes. But I know in whom I trust,” and her eyes shone with
-wifely pride and affection.
-
-“There are still so many things to do,” said Villard, a little later. “I
-know I can always depend on you to help me.”
-
-“Oh, I am not laying down the work and retiring to the old life of
-idleness,” was the reply. “I shall leave the management of the mills to
-their new owner. It’s no part of a married woman’s business to manage
-her husband’s office. But I shall have all the more leisure left for
-doing good. I have no end of schemes to lay before you; and, I have no
-doubt, you have wiser plans than mine.”
-
-“I am glad, on the whole,” said Villard thoughtfully, “that you are
-going to have more freedom. You are tired and worn with watching and
-caring for me,—dear, blessed soul that you are. Your burdens, in the
-past two years, have been borne marvelously well. Any other woman would
-have given way long ago. But, after all, I am a selfish man.”
-
-“You, John!”
-
-“Yes. I must confess, I want you all to myself, a part of the time.”
-
-“All I have and all I am, dear, is yours. And yet, I cannot help feeling
-that we have still a great work to do. Employers, on all sides, are
-looking to see us fail in our attempts. As we stand or fall, will
-factories outside of Shepardtown be benefited or injured.”
-
-“I remember what you once said, Salome. Your brave words were a
-watchword with me many a time when my courage was low.”
-
-“What were they?”
-
-“‘We want to show the world that the spirit of Him crucified may rule in
-a cotton-mill as fully as in the life of a saint.’ My darling, nobody
-but you would have had the courage to say that. We will take the
-sentiment as our rule of life.”
-
-“And act on Rossetti’s beautiful words,” added Salome:
-
- “And though age wearies by the way,
- And hearts break in the furrow,
- We’ll sow the golden grain to-day,
- The harvest reap to-morrow!
- Build up heroic lives, and all
- Be like the sheathen saber,
- Ready to flash out at God’s call,
- Oh, Chivalry of Labor!”
-
-And then they sat silent in the checkered moonlight.
-
-
- THE END.
-
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
-
-[Illustration: Books]
-
- _From the Press of the Arena Publishing Company._
-
-
-=The Rise of the Swiss Republic.=
-
- By W. D. MCCRACKAN, A. M.
-
- It contains over four hundred pages, printed from new and handsome
- type, on a fine quality of heavy paper. The margins are wide, and
- the volume is richly bound in cloth.
-
- Price, postpaid, $3.00.
-
-
-=Sultan to Sultan.=
-
- By M. FRENCH-SHELDON (Bebe Bwana).
-
- Being a thrilling account of a remarkable expedition to the Masai
- and other hostile tribes of East Africa, which was planned and
- commanded by this intrepid woman. =A Sumptuous Volume of Travels.=
- Handsomely illustrated; printed on coated paper and richly bound in
- African red silk-finished cloth.
-
- Price, postpaid, $5.00.
-
-
-=The League of the Iroquois.=
-
- By BENJAMIN HATHAWAY.
-
- It is instinct with good taste and poetic feeling, affluent of
- picturesque description and graceful portraiture, and its
- versification is fairly melodious.—_Harper’s Magazine._
-
- Has the charm of Longfellow’s “Hiawatha.”—_Albany Evening Journal._
-
- Of rare excellence and beauty.—_American Wesleyan._
-
- Evinces fine qualities of imagination, and is distinguished by
- remarkable grace and fluency.—_Boston Gazette._
-
- The publication of this poem alone may well serve as a mile-post in
- marking the pathway of American literature. The work is a marvel of
- legendary lore, and will be appreciated by every earnest
- reader.—_Boston Times._
-
- Price, postpaid, cloth, $1.00; Red Line edition, $1.50.
-
-
-=Songs.=
-
- By NEITH BOYCE. Illustrated with original drawings by ETHELWYN WELLS
- CONREY. A beautiful gift book. Bound in white and gold. Price,
- postpaid, $1.25.
-
-
-=The Finished Creation, and Other Poems.=
-
- By BENJAMIN HATHAWAY, author of “The League of the Iroquois,” “Art
- Life,” and other Poems. Handsomely bound in white parchment vellum,
- stamped in silver. Price, postpaid, $1.25.
-
-
-=Wit and Humor of the Bible.=
-
- By Rev. MARION D. SHUTTER, D.D. A brilliant and reverent treatise.
- Published only in cloth. Price, postpaid, $1.50.
-
-
-=Son of Man; or, Sequel to Evolution.=
-
- By CELESTIA ROOT LANG. Published only in cloth.
-
- This work, in many respects, very remarkably discusses the next step
- in the Evolution of Man. It is in perfect touch with advanced
- Christian Evolutionary thought, but takes a step beyond the present
- position of Religion Leaders.
-
- Price, postpaid, $1.25.
-
-
-=Along Shore with a Man of War.=
-
- By MARGUERITE DICKINS. A delightful story of travel, delightfully
- told, handsomely illustrated, and beautifully bound. Price,
- postpaid, $1.50.
-
-
-=Evolution.=
-
- Popular lectures by leading thinkers, delivered before the Brooklyn
- Ethical Association. This work is of inestimable value to the
- general reader who is interested in Evolution as applied to
- religious, scientific, and social themes. It is the joint work of a
- number of the foremost thinkers in America to-day. One volume,
- handsome cloth, illustrated, complete index. 408 pp. Price,
- postpaid, $2.00.
-
-
-=Sociology.=
-
- Popular lectures by eminent thinkers, delivered before the Brooklyn
- Ethical Association. This work is a companion volume to “Evolution,”
- and presents the best thought of representative thinkers on social
- evolution. One volume, handsome cloth, with diagram and complete
- index. 412 pp. Price, postpaid, $2.00.
-
-
-=Jason Edwards: An Average Man.=
-
- By HAMLIN GARLAND. A powerful and realistic story of to-day. Price:
- paper, 50 cents; cloth, $1.00.
-
-
-=Who Lies? An Interrogation.=
-
- By BLUM and ALEXANDER. A book that is well worth reading. Price:
- paper, 50 cents; cloth, $1.00.
-
-
-=Main Travelled Roads.=
-
- Six Mississippi Valley stories. By HAMLIN GARLAND.
-
- “The sturdy spirit of true democracy runs through this
- book.”—_Review of Reviews._
-
- Price: paper, 50 cents; cloth, $1.00.
-
-
-=Irrepressible Conflict Between Two World-Theories.=
-
- By Rev. MINOT J. SAVAGE. The most powerful presentation of Theistic
- Evolution _versus_ Orthodoxy that has ever appeared. Price: paper,
- 50 cents; cloth, $1.00.
-
-
-=Is This Your Son, My Lord?=
-
- By HELEN H. GARDENER. The most powerful novel written by an
- American. A terrible _expose_ of conventional immorality and
- hypocrisy. Price: paper, 50 cents; cloth, $1.00.
-
-
-=Pray You, Sir, Whose Daughter?=
-
- By HELEN H. GARDENER. A brilliant novel of to-day, dealing with
- social purity and the “age of consent” laws. Price: paper, 50 cents;
- cloth, $1.00.
-
-
-=A Spoil of Office.=
-
- A novel. By HAMLIN GARLAND. The truest picture of Western life that
- has appeared in American fiction. Price: paper, 50 cents; cloth,
- $1.00.
-
-
-=Lessons Learned from Other Lives.=
-
- By B. O. FLOWER.
-
- There are fourteen biographies in this volume, dealing with the
- lives of Seneca and Epictetus, the great Roman philosophers; Joan of
- Arc, the warrior maid; Henry Clay, the statesman; Edwin Booth and
- Joseph Jefferson, the actors; John Howard Payne, William Cullen
- Bryant, Edgar Allan Poe, Alice and Phœbe Cary, and John G. Whittier,
- the poets; Alfred Russell Wallace, the scientist; Victor Hugo, the
- many-sided man of genius.
-
- “The book sparkles with literary jewels.”—_Christian Leader_,
- Cincinnati, Ohio.
-
- Price: paper, 50 cents; cloth. $1.00.
-
-
-=The Dream Child.=
-
- A fascinating romance of two worlds. By FLORENCE HUNTLEY. Price:
- paper, 50 cents; cloth, $1.00.
-
-
-=A Mute Confessor.=
-
- The romance of a Southern town. By WILL N. HARBEN, author of “White
- Marie,” “Almost Persuaded,” etc. Price: paper, 50 cents; cloth,
- $1.00.
-
-
-=Redbank; Life on a Southern Plantation.=
-
- By M. L. COWLES. A typical Southern story by a Southern woman.
- Price: paper, 00; cloth, $1.00.
-
-
-=Psychics. Facts and Theories.=
-
- By Rev. MINOT J. SAVAGE. A thoughtful discussion of Psychical
- problems. Price: paper, 50 cents; cloth, $1.00.
-
-
-=Civilization’s Inferno: Studies in the Social Cellar.=
-
- By B. O. FLOWER. I. Introductory chapter. II. Society’s Exiles. III.
- Two Hours in the Social Cellar. IV. The Democracy of Darkness. V.
- Why the Ishmaelites Multiply. VI. The Froth and the Dregs. VII. A
- Pilgrimage and a Vision. VIII. Some Facts and a Question. IX. What
- of the Morrow? Price: paper, 50 cents; cloth, $1.00.
-
-
-=Salome Shepard, Reformer.=
-
- By HELEN M. WINSLOW. A New England story. Price: paper, 50 cents;
- cloth, $1.00.
-
-
-=The Law of Laws.=
-
- By S. B. WAIT. The author takes advance metaphysical grounds on the
- origin, nature, and destiny of the soul.
-
- “It is offered as a contribution to the thought of that unnumbered
- fraternity of spirit whose members are found wherever souls are
- sensitive to the impact of the truth and feel another’s burden as
- their own.”—_Author’s Preface._
-
- 256 pages; handsome cloth. Price, postpaid, $1.50.
-
-
-=Life. A Novel.=
-
- By WILLIAM W. WHEELER. A book of thrilling interest from cover to
- cover.
-
- In the form of a novel called “LIFE,” William W. Wheeler has put
- before the public some of the clearest statements of logical ideas
- regarding humanity’s present aspects, its inherent and manifest
- powers, and its future, that we have ever read. The book is strong,
- keen, powerful; running over with thought, so expressed as to
- clearly convey the author’s ideas; everything is to the point,
- nothing superfluous—and for this it is specially admirable.—_The
- Boston Times._
-
- Price: paper, 50 cents; cloth, $1.00.
-
-
-
-
-COPLEY SQUARE SERIES.
-
-
-=I. Bond-Holders and Bread-Winners.=
-
- By S. S. KING, Esq., Kansas City, Kansas. The most powerful book of
- the year. Its argument is irresistible. You should read it.
-
- President L. L. POLK, National F. A. and I. U., says: “It should be
- placed in the hands of every voter of this country.”
-
-Price, postpaid, 25 cents; per hundred, $12.50.
-
-
-=II. Money, Land, and Transportation.=
-
- CONTENTS:
-
- =1. A New Declaration of Rights.= _Hamlin Garland._
- =2. The Farmer, Investor, and the Railway.= _C. Wood Davis._
- =3. The Independent Party and Money at Cost.= _R. B. Hassell._
-
- Price, single copy, 25 cents; per hundred, $10.
-
-
-=III. Industrial Freedom. The Triple Demand of Labor.=
-
- CONTENTS:
-
- =1. The Money Question.= _Hon. John Davis._
- =2. The Sub-Treasury Plan.= _C. C. Post._
- =3. The Railroad Problem.= _C. Wood Davis and Ex-Gov. Lionel A.
- Sheldon._
-
- Price, single copy, 25 cents; per hundred, $10.
-
-
-_For sale by all booksellers. Sent postpaid upon receipt of the price._
-
-
- =Arena Publishing Company,
- Copley Square, BOSTON, MASS.=
-
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
-
-
-
-
- TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES
-
-
- 1. Silently corrected obvious typographical errors and variations in
- spelling.
- 2. Retained archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings as printed.
- 3. Enclosed italics font in _underscores_.
-
-*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SALOME SHEPARD, REFORMER ***
-
-Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will
-be renamed.
-
-Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright
-law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works,
-so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the
-United States without permission and without paying copyright
-royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part
-of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project
-Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm
-concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark,
-and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following
-the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use
-of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for
-copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very
-easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation
-of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project
-Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may
-do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected
-by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark
-license, especially commercial redistribution.
-
-START: FULL LICENSE
-
-THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
-PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
-
-To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
-distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
-(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
-Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full
-Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at
-www.gutenberg.org/license.
-
-Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project
-Gutenberg-tm electronic works
-
-1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
-electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
-and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
-(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all
-the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or
-destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your
-possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a
-Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound
-by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the
-person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph
-1.E.8.
-
-1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be
-used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
-agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few
-things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
-even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See
-paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project
-Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this
-agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm
-electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below.
-
-1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the
-Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection
-of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual
-works in the collection are in the public domain in the United
-States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the
-United States and you are located in the United States, we do not
-claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing,
-displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as
-all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope
-that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting
-free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm
-works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the
-Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily
-comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the
-same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when
-you share it without charge with others.
-
-1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
-what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are
-in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States,
-check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this
-agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing,
-distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any
-other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no
-representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any
-country other than the United States.
-
-1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
-
-1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other
-immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear
-prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work
-on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the
-phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed,
-performed, viewed, copied or distributed:
-
- This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
- most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no
- restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it
- under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this
- eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the
- United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where
- you are located before using this eBook.
-
-1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is
-derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not
-contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the
-copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in
-the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are
-redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project
-Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply
-either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or
-obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm
-trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
-
-1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
-with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
-must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any
-additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms
-will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works
-posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the
-beginning of this work.
-
-1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
-License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
-work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
-
-1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
-electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
-prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
-active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
-Gutenberg-tm License.
-
-1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
-compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including
-any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access
-to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format
-other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official
-version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm website
-(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense
-to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means
-of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain
-Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the
-full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
-
-1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
-performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
-unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
-
-1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
-access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
-provided that:
-
-* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
- the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
- you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed
- to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has
- agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project
- Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid
- within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are
- legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty
- payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project
- Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in
- Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg
- Literary Archive Foundation."
-
-* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
- you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
- does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
- License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all
- copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue
- all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm
- works.
-
-* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of
- any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
- electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of
- receipt of the work.
-
-* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
- distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
-
-1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project
-Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than
-are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing
-from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of
-the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the Foundation as set
-forth in Section 3 below.
-
-1.F.
-
-1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
-effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
-works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project
-Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm
-electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may
-contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate
-or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other
-intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or
-other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or
-cannot be read by your equipment.
-
-1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
-of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
-Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
-Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
-Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
-liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
-fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
-LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
-PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
-TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
-LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
-INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
-DAMAGE.
-
-1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
-defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
-receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
-written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you
-received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium
-with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you
-with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in
-lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person
-or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second
-opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If
-the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing
-without further opportunities to fix the problem.
-
-1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
-in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO
-OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT
-LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
-
-1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
-warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of
-damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement
-violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the
-agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or
-limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or
-unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the
-remaining provisions.
-
-1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
-trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
-providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in
-accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the
-production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm
-electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses,
-including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of
-the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this
-or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or
-additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any
-Defect you cause.
-
-Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
-
-Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
-electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of
-computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It
-exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations
-from people in all walks of life.
-
-Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
-assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
-goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
-remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project
-Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
-and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future
-generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary
-Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see
-Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at
-www.gutenberg.org
-
-Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary
-Archive Foundation
-
-The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit
-501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
-state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
-Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
-number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary
-Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by
-U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
-
-The Foundation's business office is located at 809 North 1500 West,
-Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up
-to date contact information can be found at the Foundation's website
-and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact
-
-Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
-Literary Archive Foundation
-
-Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without
-widespread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
-increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
-freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest
-array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations
-($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
-status with the IRS.
-
-The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
-charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
-States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
-considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
-with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations
-where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND
-DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular
-state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate
-
-While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
-have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
-against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
-approach us with offers to donate.
-
-International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
-any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
-outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
-
-Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation
-methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other
-ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To
-donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate
-
-Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
-
-Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project
-Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be
-freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and
-distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of
-volunteer support.
-
-Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
-editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in
-the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not
-necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper
-edition.
-
-Most people start at our website which has the main PG search
-facility: www.gutenberg.org
-
-This website includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
-including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
-Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
-subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
diff --git a/old/69636-0.zip b/old/69636-0.zip
deleted file mode 100644
index dfb4a6b..0000000
--- a/old/69636-0.zip
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/69636-h.zip b/old/69636-h.zip
deleted file mode 100644
index 8f8699c..0000000
--- a/old/69636-h.zip
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/69636-h/69636-h.htm b/old/69636-h/69636-h.htm
deleted file mode 100644
index 6d848a8..0000000
--- a/old/69636-h/69636-h.htm
+++ /dev/null
@@ -1,8255 +0,0 @@
-<!DOCTYPE html>
-<html lang="en">
- <head>
- <meta charset="UTF-8">
- <title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Salome Shepard, by Helen M. Winslow</title>
- <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover">
- <style>
- body { margin-left: 8%; margin-right: 10%; }
- h1 { text-align: center; font-weight: bold; font-size: xx-large; }
- h2 { text-align: center; font-weight: bold; font-size: x-large; }
- .pageno { right: 1%; font-size: x-small; background-color: inherit; color: silver;
- text-indent: 0em; text-align: right; position: absolute;
- border: thin solid silver; padding: .1em .2em; font-style: normal;
- font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; }
- p { text-indent: 0; margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; text-align: justify; }
- .sc { font-variant: small-caps; }
- .large { font-size: large; }
- .xlarge { font-size: x-large; }
- .small { font-size: small; }
- .lg-container-b { text-align: center; }
- .x-ebookmaker .lg-container-b { clear: both; }
- .lg-container-l { text-align: justify; }
- .x-ebookmaker .lg-container-l { clear: both; }
- .lg-container-r { text-align: right; }
- .x-ebookmaker .lg-container-r { clear: both; }
- .linegroup { display: inline-block; text-align: justify; }
- .x-ebookmaker .linegroup { display: block; margin-left: 1.5em; }
- .linegroup .group { margin: 1em auto; }
- .linegroup .line { text-indent: -3em; padding-left: 3em; }
- div.linegroup > :first-child { margin-top: 0; }
- .linegroup .in10 { padding-left: 8.0em; }
- .linegroup .in2 { padding-left: 4.0em; }
- .linegroup .in32 { padding-left: 19.0em; }
- .ol_1 li {padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em; }
- ol.ol_1 {padding-left: 0; margin-left: 2.78%; margin-top: .5em;
- margin-bottom: .5em; list-style-type: decimal; }
- div.pbb { page-break-before: always; }
- hr.pb { border: none; border-bottom: thin solid; margin-bottom: 1em; }
- .x-ebookmaker hr.pb { display: none; }
- .chapter { clear: both; page-break-before: always; }
- .figcenter { clear: both; max-width: 100%; margin: 2em auto; text-align: center; }
- .figcenter img { max-width: 100%; height: auto; }
- .id001 { width:80%; }
- .id002 { width:20%; }
- .x-ebookmaker .id001 { margin-left:10%; width:80%; }
- .x-ebookmaker .id002 { margin-left:40%; width:20%; }
- .ig001 { width:100%; }
- .nf-center { text-align: center; }
- .nf-center-c0 { text-align: justify; margin: 0.5em 0; }
- .c000 { margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; }
- .c001 { page-break-before: always; margin-top: 4em; }
- .c002 { margin-top: 2em; }
- .c003 { margin-top: 1em; }
- .c004 { margin-top: 4em; }
- .c005 { margin-top: 4em; font-size: .9em; }
- .c006 { page-break-before:auto; margin-top: 4em; }
- .c007 { margin-top: 2em; text-indent: 1em; margin-bottom: 0.25em; }
- .c008 { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: 0.25em; margin-bottom: 0.25em; }
- .c009 { font-size: .9em; text-indent: 1em; margin-top: 0.25em;
- margin-bottom: 0.25em; }
- .c010 { font-size: .9em; }
- .c011 { border: none; border-bottom: thin solid; margin-top: 0.8em;
- margin-bottom: 0.8em; margin-left: 35%; margin-right: 35%; width: 30%; }
- .c012 { margin-top: 1em; font-size: .9em; }
- .c013 { text-indent: 0; margin-top: 0.25em; margin-bottom: 0.25em; }
- .c014 { margin-left: 5.56%; margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; }
- .c015 { margin-left: 5.56%; font-size: .9em; text-indent: 1em; margin-top: 0.25em;
- margin-bottom: 0.25em; }
- .c016 { margin-top: 4em; text-indent: 1em; margin-bottom: 0.25em; }
- .c017 { margin-left: 5.56%; }
- div.tnotes { padding-left:1em;padding-right:1em;background-color:#E3E4FA;
- border:thin solid silver; margin:2em 10% 0 10%; font-family: Georgia, serif;
- clear: both; }
- .covernote { visibility: hidden; display: none; }
- div.tnotes p { text-align: justify; }
- .x-ebookmaker .covernote { visibility: visible; display: block; }
- .figcenter {font-size: .9em; page-break-inside: avoid; max-width: 100%; }
- .x-ebookmaker img {max-height: 30em; max-width: 100%; }
- .chapter { clear: both; page-break-before: always; }
- .ol_1 li {font-size: .9em; }
- .x-ebookmaker .ol_1 li {padding-left: 1em; text-indent: 0em; }
- body {font-family: Georgia, serif; text-align: justify; }
- table {font-size: .9em; padding: 1.5em .5em 1em; page-break-inside: avoid;
- clear: both; }
- div.titlepage {text-align: center; page-break-before: always;
- page-break-after: always; }
- div.titlepage p {text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; font-weight: bold;
- line-height: 1.5; margin-top: 3em; }
- .ph1 { text-indent: 0em; font-weight: bold; font-size: xx-large;
- margin: .67em auto; page-break-before: always; }
- .ph2 { text-indent: 0em; font-weight: bold; font-size: x-large; margin: .75em auto;
- page-break-before: always; }
- .fixed {font-family: 'Old English Text MT', serif; font-weight:bold; }
- .x-ebookmaker p.dropcap:first-letter { float: left; }
-</style>
- </head>
- <body>
-<p style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Salome Shepard, Reformer, by Helen M. Winslow</p>
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
-most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
-of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online
-at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you
-are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the
-country where you are located before using this eBook.
-</div>
-
-<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Salome Shepard, Reformer</p>
-<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Helen M. Winslow</p>
-<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: December 25, 2022 [eBook #69636]</p>
-<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p>
- <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: Richard Tonsing and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)</p>
-<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SALOME SHEPARD, REFORMER ***</div>
-
-<div class='tnotes covernote'>
-
-<p class='c000'><strong>Transcriber’s Note:</strong></p>
-
-<p class='c000'>The cover image was created by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='figcenter id001'>
-<img src='images/i_frontispiece.jpg' alt='Sincerely Yours Helen M Winslow' class='ig001'>
-</div>
-
-<div class='titlepage'>
-
-<div>
- <h1 class='c001'>SALOME SHEPARD, REFORMER.</h1>
-</div>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
-<div class='nf-center c002'>
- <div>BY</div>
- <div class='c003'><span class='xlarge'>HELEN M. WINSLOW.</span></div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='figcenter id002'>
-<img src='images/title.jpg' alt='ART FOR TRUTH....' class='ig001'>
-</div>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
- <div class='nf-center'>
- <div>BOSTON, MASS.:</div>
- <div class='c003'><span class='large'><span class='fixed'>Arena Publishing Company,</span></span></div>
- <div class='c003'>COPLEY SQUARE,</div>
- <div class='c003'>1893.</div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
-<div class='nf-center c004'>
- <div><span class='small'>Copyright 1893,</span></div>
- <div><span class='small'>BY</span></div>
- <div><span class='small'>HELEN M. WINSLOW.</span></div>
- <div class='c003'><span class='small'>ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.</span></div>
- <div class='c002'><span class='small'>ARENA PRESS.</span></div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c005'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line in10'>“Pardon, gentles all,</div>
- <div class='line'>The flat, unraised spirit that hath dared</div>
- <div class='line'>On this unworthy scaffold to bring forth</div>
- <div class='line in10'>So great an object.”</div>
- <div class='line in32'><span class='sc'>Shakespeare.</span></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter ph1'>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
-<div class='nf-center c004'>
- <div>SALOME SHEPARD, REFORMER.</div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-</div>
-
-<div>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_1'>1</span>
- <h2 class='c006'>I.</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c007'>Salome Shepard gazed wonderingly at the
-crowd of people in the street, as she guided
-her pony-phaeton through the factory precincts.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“What can be the matter with these people?”
-she thought. “I’m sure they ought to have
-gone to their work before this.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>It was a wet October day. The narrow
-street was slippery with the muddy water that
-oozed along to the gutters. The factory
-boardinghouses loomed up on either side,
-dingy and desolate. Even the mills looked
-larger and coarser, in the gloomy air of the
-morning.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_2'>2</span>As she drove by them, the fair owner listened
-in vain for the rumble of machinery. Inside,
-the great, well-lighted rooms looked dreary
-and barn-like in the gray mist that struggled
-through the windows.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>One hour before, the machinery, shrieking
-and groaning, had voiced the protest of the
-“hands” against their fancied and their real
-wrongs. One hour before, every employe had
-been in his or her place. But the gloom of the
-atmosphere could not obscure the suppressed
-excitement of the morning. Shortsighted and
-blind to their best interest, they might have
-been; but there was not a man among them
-who did not feel a tremendous underlying
-principle at stake.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>And so, at precisely ten o’clock, the machinery
-had suddenly and mysteriously stopped, and
-every man, woman and child, without a word,
-had left the mills.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>All this had happened while Salome Shepard
-was calling on an elderly friend of her mother’s
-at the other end of the town. It had been a
-delightfully cosy morning in spite of the rain;
-and, after a gossipy fashion, they had passed
-it in discussing, as women will, the newest
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_3'>3</span>pattern of crochet, the last society-novel, the
-coming concerts in town.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Salome’s mood was the comfortable one conduced
-by such soothing intellectual food, as
-she set forth on her homeward drive. The
-rain had ceased, and only along the river did
-the mists hover, suggesting to her idle fancy
-the thick smoke which hangs over a smouldering
-fire.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>But the fire which had been creeping under
-the life of the Shawsheen Mills had but just
-burst into flames, which mounted higher and
-higher as the day wore on.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>All through the factory precincts the unwonted
-excitement was manifest. Groups of
-employes were everywhere—on the street-corners,
-in front of tenements and boardinghouses,
-in the middle of the street;—and all
-were engaged in absorbing discussion of one
-exciting theme—the strike.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Men without coats or hats; women with
-shawls thrown loosely over their heads; girls,
-bonnetless and neglectful of dress; unkempt
-old women, who were perhaps the home-makers
-for these hard-worked and ill-paid people; all
-were indifferent save to one subject.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_4'>4</span>Even the quick passage, through their midst,
-of the pony-phaeton and its mistress failed to
-attract attention beyond an occasional surly
-glance from the men or an envious one from the
-women. Unmindful of the long days in store,
-when there would be ample time to discuss
-their wrongs, they remained huddled in excited
-groups in the wet October air, talking over
-the strike,—the famous strike of the Shawsheen
-Mills.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I declare!” muttered the young woman
-who was hurrying the pony out of these disagreeable
-surroundings; “it must be a strike!
-Nothing else would crowd them into the street
-so. I wonder what they want? Dear me!
-what nuisances these work-people are. Why
-can’t they be sensible, and when they are earning
-a living, be content? Dear me! if I had
-the making over of this world I would make
-everybody comfortably off, and nobody rich—unless
-it were myself,” she added, laughing;
-for absolute truthfulness was a necessity of
-Salome Shepard’s nature, and she knew perfectly
-well that she could not do without the
-luxuries to which she had always been accustomed.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_5'>5</span>“If I had the making over of the world!”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The words repeated themselves in her mind.
-If any human being has the power of making
-over the world in any smallest degree, something
-whispered, that person must be a young,
-attractive woman, with a vast property and
-absolute control of several hundred people,
-besides two millions of dollars in her own right.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Dear me!” she said aloud, as she drove
-up the graveled road under the dripping yellow
-beeches. “How positively dreadful it must be
-to be a reformer! How would I look in a
-bloomer costume and black bombazine bonnet?
-No. Let things alone, keep to your sphere,
-young woman,—the proper, well-regulated,
-protected and chaperoned sphere of a delicate
-young lady, and let the world right its own
-wrongs.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>She jumped lightly from the phaeton, tossing
-the reins to James, and showing her fine, well-turned
-figure to excellent advantage as she ran
-up the broad steps.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The massive doors turned noiselessly at her
-approach. She passed through the fine old
-hall and went directly up the broad oak staircase
-to her room.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_6'>6</span>“How comfortable this is,” she said to herself,
-as the blazing wood-fire threw flickering
-shadows over the dainty hangings, the warm
-rugs and the choice pictures.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>But even as she drew a long sigh of contentment
-with her lot, a picture of wet and
-muddy streets, thickset with groups of brawny
-men and bedraggled, unkempt women, intruded
-itself, and the sigh changed its tenor.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“If I only had the making over of the
-world!” she said again aloud; and added resolutely,
-“but I haven’t.”</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_7'>7</span>
- <h2 class='c006'>II.</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c007'>The Shawsheen Mills had been established
-many years before the opening of this story
-by Salome’s grandfather, Newbern Shepard.
-They constituted one of the chief manufacturing
-concerns of Shepardtown. They made
-more cloth, and that of a better quality, than
-any other mill outside the “City of Spindles.”
-They employed a much larger force of operatives
-than any other factory in the place, and
-had always held a controlling interest in town
-affairs.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>When the Shawsheen Mills were first started,
-blooming girls from all parts of Massachusetts
-came swarming to them, glad of a new and
-respectable employment,—came with earnest
-purpose to make this new life and its outcomes
-subservient to a better future. The conscientious
-New England girl of those days took as
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_8'>8</span>much pride in making a perfect web of cloth
-as though it were for her own wearing. Aware
-that her employers took an interest in her welfare,
-aside from the fact that she was a part of
-the motive power of the mill, she rewarded
-them with a full performance of her duty. A
-mutual goodfellowship had existed, then, between
-employer and employed in the years
-when old Newbern Shepard was at the head
-of his mills.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>All this had changed. Newbern Shepard
-had died after a long and successful career,
-leaving the business to his son, Floyd Shepard.
-The latter, educated at Harvard, with five years
-of study afterward in Germany, had developed
-little taste for an active business life such as
-his father had led. He had, consequently,
-placed the entire business in the hands of Otis
-Greenough, a friend of his college-days and a
-hard-headed business man. Floyd Shepard
-had idled the greater part of his time before
-reaching the age of fifty in various parts of
-the world.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Then he came home, married a Baltimore
-belle, and passed his old age in his native
-place.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_9'>9</span>Even then, he gave little thought to the
-details of business. He added to and improved
-the home of his forefathers, until his
-house and grounds were acknowledged to be the
-finest in the state. After four years of married
-life, his young wife died, leaving him one child—a
-babe of three days. Then he retired into
-his study, and lived only among his books.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Don’t trouble me with the business,” he
-would say to Otis Greenough, on the rare
-occasions when it seemed necessary to consult
-the owner of the mills. “I care nothing as to
-how you manage the works, and know less
-how it should be done. Suit yourself as to
-details, and keep the mills paying a good profit.
-I shall be satisfied.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Upon this principle the mills had been run
-for thirty years. The agent and his superintendents
-had devoted themselves to the problem
-of getting out more goods and making
-more money than their competitors, while keeping
-the standard of their wares up to its old
-mark. They had no time for the problem of
-human life involved. The first and principal
-question had required a severe struggle, with
-active brains and sharp wits. What wonder,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_10'>10</span>then, that the increasing mass of operatives
-had come to be considered, every year, less as
-human beings in need of help and encouragement,
-and more as mechanical attachments of
-the mills?</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Only such operatives as had been brought
-up in the mills realized the difference. The
-employes were mostly of the unwashed population,
-expecting nothing but a place to earn
-their living and but scanty pay for it.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Having, at the outset, no confidence in their
-employers, and no feeling of goodwill towards
-them, they had no conscientious motive behind
-their work. On the contrary, they stood on
-the defensive, watching for oppression and
-tyranny, and ready to take arms against them.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>This was the state of things when the first
-regularly organized strike occurred at the
-Shawsheen Mills.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Otis Greenough, although an old man, was
-still at the head of the mills. Floyd Shepard’s
-death three years before had made no difference
-with the vast business interests in his name.
-In willing everything he owned to his daughter,
-who was already heiress to a large fortune
-from her mother’s family, he had provided that
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_11'>11</span>Otis Greenough should be chief agent during
-the remainder of his life; and that the mills
-should continue on the same plan by which
-they had been run for the past quarter of a
-century.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Otis Greenough was an arbitrary man, with
-that enormous strength of will which a man
-must have who is to control and manage two
-thousand people and an increasing business.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>If, in the march of economic progress, he
-chose to make changes in the machinery of the
-mills, he consulted no one, and cared nothing
-for the black looks or surly mutterings of the
-operative who might fancy himself injured
-thereby. Had it been hinted to him that his
-operatives might be trained to take a personal
-interest in the success or failure of new experiments
-or, indeed, that they had any right to his
-brotherly consideration, he would have flouted
-the idea.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>It was his boast that he never wasted words
-on the operatives. In short, he was as indifferent
-to the rights of Labor as his Lancashire
-spinners were to the interests of Capital. Hence
-the strike.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>At noon of the day that Salome Shepard
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_12'>12</span>had driven through the factory street, Otis
-Greenough sat in his private office with his
-two superintendents, the treasurer and cashier
-of the mills, and one or two subordinates. As
-the bell struck for twelve, five men from the
-various departments filed in and presented a
-written document. They were the committee
-appointed by the new Labor Union.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Mr. Greenough took the paper with an air
-that showed him to be in anything but a
-conciliatory mood. Without opening it, he
-burst forth angrily:</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“What, in the name of common sense, is
-this farce anyhow? What do you mean by
-leaving your work and presuming to come here,
-dictating terms to <em>me</em>?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“The paper will explain everything, sir,”
-replied the foremost of the committee. “We
-have our rights—or should have them. The
-time has come when we propose to get them.
-Will you read the petition, sir?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“No,” thundered the choleric old man. “Not
-in your presence. Villard, treat with them.”
-Mr. Greenough was too angry to say more.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Mr. Villard, the younger superintendent,
-stepped forward.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_13'>13</span>“I think,” he said, “that you had better
-leave us for a time. We shall need to consider
-your proposals, whatever they may be.
-Go now, and come again later—say at four
-o’clock.” Agreeing to this proposition, the
-five men turned and left the office. Mr. Villard
-sat down again, waiting for the agent to speak.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“The confounded whelps!” ejaculated Mr.
-Greenough, as soon as he could find breath.
-“Open that paper, Villard—the impudent
-puppies!”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Without answering, John Villard tore open
-the envelope, and read the document aloud:</p>
-
-<p class='c009'><em>Whereas</em>, we, the undersigned, believing that our interests
-demand an organization which shall promote and protect
-affairs relating to us as laboring men; and</p>
-
-<p class='c009'><em>Whereas</em>, we have already organized and maintained such a
-society; it is now unanimously agreed that we insist upon the
-recognition of such a body by our employers, and upon their
-making certain concessions for the benefit of that body.</p>
-
-<p class='c009'><em>Whereas</em>, there is a ten-hour system established in this state
-by law; we hereby <em>resolve</em> that we will refuse to work ten and
-a half or eleven hours a day as has been demanded of us.</p>
-
-<p class='c009'><em>Whereas</em>, we believe the introduction of the new frames are
-detrimental to the interests of the mule-spinners; we <em>resolve</em>
-that they must be taken out, and the old mules replaced, with
-a written agreement that no more of the obnoxious machinery
-shall be added for, at least, five years.</p>
-
-<p class='c009'><em>Whereas</em>, there has been an attempt made to reduce our
-wages, especially in the weaving department; we hereby
-<em>resolve</em> that we will submit to no curtailment of wages, and to
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_14'>14</span>demand payment of all wages weekly, as is the custom in
-certain other mills in this state.</p>
-
-<p class='c009'>Trusting that these our petitions may be granted, our rights
-respected, and that harmonious relations will soon be established
-between us, we take pleasure in signing ourselves</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-r c010'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>“<span class='sc'>Members of the Shawsheen Labor Union</span>.”</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c008'>Before John Villard had finished reading
-the paper, Mr. Greenough had risen and was
-pacing the floor excitedly.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Shocking!” he exclaimed, as Mr. Villard
-folded the paper and returned it to its envelope.
-“Preposterous! Do they think they can
-impose upon me with such a jumble of unreasoning
-nonsense as that? Labor Union, indeed!
-Why, the rascals act as if there were
-no interests but those of labor. And a beautiful
-time they’ve taken to strike—when orders
-are pouring in faster than we can possibly keep
-up with them. A fine time, indeed!”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I suppose,” said John Villard, fearlessly,
-“there seems a slight injustice to them, in cutting
-down their wages at such a time.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“What right have they to dictate, I should
-like to inquire?” answered the irate agent.
-“If they were not a bigoted, unreasoning set,
-they’d know they never can serve the interests
-of labor in such a way. They’d realize that
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_15'>15</span>they are only biting off their own noses! They
-have probably been worked upon by some
-crank of an agitator. If they were not ignorant
-dogs, they’d know that they could best
-serve the interests of labor by being faithful to
-those of capital. Why,” he concluded, his
-face growing redder in his wrath, “is this
-America? Is this our boasted New England?
-Is this a free country? By Jove! I’ve heard
-of this sort of thing in England, but in this
-republican land, this boasted region of freedom—Great
-Scott! What are we coming to?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“It’s this accursed trades-unionism creeping
-in among us,” put in the treasurer’s mild voice,
-as Otis Greenough paused for breath. “I’ve
-been expecting it.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Blast it, why didn’t you mention it then?”
-returned Mr. Greenough. But the treasurer
-retired in confusion behind his books and did
-not answer.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Well, Villard,” continued the agent, “I
-hope now you will give up the Utopian schemes
-you’ve been nursing for the elevation of the
-laboring classes. You see just what a foolish,
-unthinking, unreliable set of men we have to
-deal with.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_16'>16</span>“On the contrary, sir,” returned the second
-superintendent, firmly, “I sympathize, to a
-degree, with them. I agree that they have
-taken an inopportune time to enforce their
-views, and regret that they could not have seen
-fit to keep at work while their petition was
-being considered; and I would advise——”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I want no man’s advice until I ask it,”
-interrupted the elder man. “This is our first
-strike, and it shall be the last so long as I have
-authority here. Humph! They think they
-can intimidate me! They have chosen this
-time because they think I <em>must</em> yield now.
-They little know me. Otis Greenough has not
-run the Shawsheen Mills successfully thirty
-years, to be brow-beaten and conquered in the
-end by a pack of ignorant laborers.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“But how is this to end?” asked the first
-superintendent, speaking for the first time.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“It can end whenever these men will take
-back their impudent paper and go to work.
-Villard, when they show up again—four o’clock
-did you say?—you will tell them so. Offer
-them a chance to go to work to-morrow morning
-on the old terms. You needn’t give in to them
-one inch. Do you hear? Not a jot or tittle.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_17'>17</span>“And what if they do not accept?” asked
-Villard.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Why, advertise. Advertise far and near.
-Get new help. We’ll open the mills and run
-them, too, right in their very teeth. I’ll show
-them that he who has been master here for
-thirty years is master until he dies.”</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_18'>18</span>
- <h2 class='c006'>III.</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c007'>The choleric agent’s blood was fairly up,
-and he now set himself to plan for the coming
-warfare. When the committee from the labor
-union made its appearance at four o’clock, the
-agent refused to treat directly with them. He
-retired to his inner office, whence issued a
-moment later an “open letter to the employes
-of the Shawsheen Mills.” The circular was
-composed and written entirely by himself, and
-was quite characteristic of his high-handed
-authority. It stated that “as the control of
-an owner over his property was guaranteed
-by the law of the land, and was of such unquestionable
-character as ought not to be
-meddled with by any other individual or combination
-of individuals, the agent of the Shawsheen
-Mills, acting for their owner, would brook
-no such interference as had been attempted.”
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_19'>19</span>But, in bombastic language, he went on to say
-that, on account of the pressure of work, he
-offered to take back into the mills such operatives
-as, after a day’s idleness and a night’s
-calm reflection, might decide to come back
-peacefully, and accept the old conditions. The
-circular closed by adding that all returning
-operatives must renounce their connection with
-the new Labor Union, and stating that the
-Shawsheen Mills would be immediately re-opened.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>This letter, as might have been expected,
-only served to fan the smouldering embers of
-discord. It was taken at once to the quarters
-of the new Union, and angrily discussed. A
-stormy meeting was held that evening, and
-scores of new members were added to the organization,
-all unanimously agreeing, not only to
-keep away from the mills themselves, but to
-prevent other operatives from entering them.
-The trouble which might have been met at the
-outset and subdued by candid discussion and a
-fair acknowledgment on each side of the claims
-of the other, was changed into a barricade of
-danger between labor and capital over which
-a battle was to be fought, involving money and
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_20'>20</span>credit and losses on one side, and daily bread
-for two thousand people on the other.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Come,” said Otis Greenough, emerging from
-his “den” after the committee had left the
-office. “I want you, Villard, and you, too,
-Burnham,” he added, turning to the other
-superintendent, “to go with me this evening,
-to the owner of these mills, and lay before her
-the proceedings of the day, and our reasons for
-taking a firm stand. Although, precious little
-difference it will make with her, I imagine, how
-many strikes we have, until her income is
-affected! Will you be so good as to state,
-Villard, what you are smiling at.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I was thinking, sir, that it is a queer state
-of affairs, when a person owning large and influential
-mills like these, need not know of the
-strike or be consulted with regard to it, until it
-is half over,” answered Villard. He had no
-fear of the agent, with whom he was a favorite,
-in spite of his seeming harshness. “It seems
-to me, if I were a young woman, with unlimited
-leisure and wealth, I should care to know
-something of so tremendous an interest as the
-Shawsheen Mills represent—that is, if I owned
-them.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_21'>21</span>“Ha, ha!” laughed the agent, “that shows
-how much of a ladies’ man you are, John.
-Much you know about the things that interest
-and amuse the young ladies. By Jove! I
-should laugh to see the daughter of Floyd
-Shepard meddling with the details of the great
-business he left her. She could discuss French
-and Italian literature, or the different schools
-of music and art, by the hour, and fairly inundate
-you with a flood of learning; but when it
-comes to mills—why, she don’t know a loom
-from a spinning-jenny—and don’t want to.
-I’m only going up there as a matter of form.
-As for advice, she knows I wouldn’t take it,
-even if she has any to offer. But courtesy—proper
-courtesy,” and Otis Greenough drew
-himself up to his fullest height, “and the respect
-we owe her as the owner of this property, demand
-that we go there this evening. I will call for
-you in my carriage at half-past seven.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>And, so saying, he left the office.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I reckon the old man is about right,” said
-Burnham, when they were alone. “Miss
-Shepard knows no more about the practical
-affairs of her mill, than that little white kitten
-over there does. She’ll meet us with a listless,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_22'>22</span>half-bored air, pretending to listen to the statements
-of our chief, and all the time be wishing
-us at the antipodes.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Do you know,” interrupted John Villard,
-locking the door to the office as they left it
-together, “I’ve very little patience with
-women of that sort. Think, with her youth
-and health and money, what a directing,
-reforming force in bringing together the conflicting
-interests of labor and capital she might
-be! Great Heavens! I wish I had her opportunity.
-I’d make something of it.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Oh, you are too Utopian,” replied Burnham.
-“It is fortunate she isn’t that kind. We
-should be overwhelmed with Schemes for the
-Amelioration of the Condition of This, That,
-and The Other Thing, until there would be
-nothing left but bankruptcy for all of us. No.
-I want no reformers in petticoats at the head
-of the Shawsheen Mills. But here I am at my
-street. Good-bye, till evening.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Salome Shepard passed a dull afternoon.
-Although a young woman of resources she
-found herself in no mood to enjoy any of them
-after lunch. The newest volume of essays
-seemed insufferably dull, and she turned for
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_23'>23</span>relief to the latest novel; but, in spite of the
-fact that this book was talked about throughout
-the country, she soon threw it aside with a
-wearied air and sat gazing into the blazing
-hickory fire.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Strange! but the red-hot coals formed themselves
-into a group against the dull back-log
-like the groups of miserable, excited men and
-women of the morning against a background
-of rain and fog and muddy streets. It was an
-uncomfortable picture, and she rose suddenly,
-and, going into the music-room, seated herself
-at the piano. Chopin’s Nocturnes stood open
-on the rack, but she tossed them aside and
-began some stormy Liszt music, breaking off
-when half done and going to the window.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The rain had begun to fall again and the
-fog had settled like a pall over everything
-farther off than the arched gateway. She
-wondered if all those people were still standing
-in the mud and rain.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>An elderly lady, with soft white hair and
-exquisite laces, came in.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Salome ran forward, pushed her aunt’s favorite
-chair into the position she liked best, and
-put her into it.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_24'>24</span>“Why did you stop playing? And why did
-you attempt that brilliant thing?” said Mrs.
-Soule. “You are so dreadfully out of practice,
-you know.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“It wasn’t that,” answered the younger
-woman; “I’m not in the mood for playing anything.
-I doubt if I could get through with
-‘Bounding Billows’ or the ‘Fifteenth Amusement’
-to-day. Did you know, aunty, there
-is a strike down at the mills?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“A strike! Mercy, who has struck?” responded
-the elder in shocked tones.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Why, the operatives, of course. I don’t
-know why, or anything about it. I have never
-shown any interest in the mills,” she went on
-eagerly and half-apologetically, “but I should
-like to know what it is all about—why they did
-it—what they want, and all that. I should
-think Mr. Greenough would come up here.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“He will come as soon as he deems it
-proper.” Mrs. Soule’s voice was calmness and
-precision itself. “It is not nice for young
-ladies to mix themselves up in such common
-things.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“But, aunty,” laughed Salome, “strikes are
-not common things here. We never had one
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_25'>25</span>before. And I am not so very young a lady
-as to need the same careful guardianship I
-had when I was sixteen. I am twenty-seven
-years old.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“There is no need of saying so upon all
-occasions, if you are,” replied her aunt with
-some asperity. “A strike, like all things connected
-with, or originated by the ignorant laboring
-class, is common in the sense of being
-vulgar. Any woman, young or old, brought
-up as delicately and carefully as you have
-been, demeans herself by connection with such
-things. You have an agent—a manly and
-capable one; leave the settlement of such
-things to him.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Oh, I’m not going to meddle with the strike.
-The very suggestion that I would wish to have
-anything to do with settling the difficulty
-makes me laugh.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Salome rose and began to pace the room.
-“But sometimes, lately, aunty, it has occurred
-to me that a young woman of average talent,
-with a great business on her hands which employs
-two thousand people, may have something
-to do in life more than to seek her own
-selfish enjoyment—a pursuit which, after all,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_26'>26</span>is not elevating and leaves but a restless, unsatisfied
-spirit in its wake. I came across
-some of grandfather’s manuscripts two or three
-weeks ago and have been reading them. He
-wasn’t like papa. The mills were a part of his
-very self. The operatives were almost like so
-many children to him. I’ve read in his, and in
-other books, about the mill-girls of his day.
-Girls whose working days began at daylight in
-winter and ended at half-past seven in the
-evening; who had only two dresses to their
-backs, and those of Merrimack print; whose
-profits for a week, after their board was paid,
-were only two dollars. But girls who could
-discuss Shakespeare, Dante, and Milton at their
-looms; who read Locke and Abercrombie and
-Pollock and Young (something I can’t do!);
-who sent petitions to Congress for the abolition
-of slavery; who helped build churches from
-their pitiful savings; who wrote essays and
-poems and stories, even while running their
-looms; who spent their evenings in the study
-of German and French and botany; and
-who went out, at last, to become teachers and
-mothers and missionaries, and, above all, noble,
-self-sacrificing, helpful women. And I tell you
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_27'>27</span>that, with all my money and my polished
-education, I envy them.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Salome, really, you surprise me,” exclaimed
-the excellent lady who was listening to her.
-“Calm yourself, my dear.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Look at the girls in this mill—in my grandfather’s
-mill to-day—in my mill,” she went
-on. “Beings of bangs and bangles and cheap
-jewelry, of low aspirations, and correspondingly
-low morals! They are not to blame for
-their penny-dreadful lives, because they know
-no better. They dream of nothing higher than
-their looms and their face-powder, and their
-cheap satins and false hair—why should they?
-They see rich and educated women like us
-wrapped entirely in ourselves, each anxious to
-outshine the rest, and all seemingly lost in the
-mad race after fashionable attire. They do
-not know, poor things, that we ever think or
-talk of higher subjects. I tell you, I feel that
-I am, somehow, responsible for them. And yet,
-I don’t know how to help them. My grandfather
-could, but I can’t.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I know nothing of such things,” coldly
-replied her aunt. “It is not ladylike to fly
-into a passion over the fancied wrongs of a
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_28'>28</span>lower order of beings. I beg that you will
-recollect that you are the daughter of Cora Le
-Bourdillon and Floyd Shepard.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“And more than that,” Salome whispered to
-herself as she sought the quiet of her own
-room, “I am afraid I am the grand-daughter
-of Newbern Shepard.”</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_29'>29</span>
- <h2 class='c006'>IV.</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c007'>It was nearly eight o’clock when carriage-wheels
-were heard coming up the graveled
-drive-way, and Otis Greenough and his associates
-were announced. Salome and her aunt
-were sitting in the music-room, and came forward
-at once; the former with an unmistakable
-air of eagerness.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Tell me about the strike, Mr. Greenough,”
-she asked, before he had fairly seated himself.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Oh, then, you’d heard of it, eh?” he asked.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I saw something of it this morning, driving
-through the town. I could not help knowing
-what it was. But why did they do it? What
-do they want?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“They did it,” and Otis Greenough sat up
-with a judicial air, “because they are rascally
-dogs, and do not know when they are well off.
-And they want?—well,—the earth—more pay,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_30'>30</span>shorter hours, and the Lord knows what besides.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Well, and why shouldn’t they have it?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The question fell like a bomb upon her surprised
-audience.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“To be sure, I know very little of these
-things, practically, although I have taken the
-prescribed doses of social economy in my readings
-under Professor Townsend,” she went on;
-“but it has occurred to me, within a few days,
-that the laboring classes have very little control
-over their own lives, and are not much more
-than slaves to us who hold the reins of
-power.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Bless me!” thought Otis Greenough, staring
-at her. If his office-door had suddenly
-spoken, offering him officious counsel as to
-his method of conducting the mills, he could
-hardly have been more surprised. “Bless me!
-No Floyd Shepard about her.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“If the operatives are poorly paid, and we
-are making more money than ever before (I
-think I understood you so the other day?),”
-the young woman was saying, “why shouldn’t
-their wages be raised? It seems but fair, to
-me.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_31'>31</span>“Much you know about it, little girl,” Mr.
-Greenough found voice to say, addressing her
-as he used to in by-gone days, when she occasionally
-strayed into the mills and teased to be
-taken through them. “Much any young lady
-of the world can know of such matters. We
-would not have you turn from being your own
-charming self, and become a learned blue-stocking,
-or bloomered reformer; but there are
-many, many reasons which come between the
-questions of profit and loss, and the petty details
-of operatives’ wages, which cannot be explained
-to you here and now. They were contented
-enough until some rascal or other, having
-become imbued with the spirit of these labor
-unions starting up all over the country, must
-needs organize one here. By Jove! I’ll employ
-detectives and hunt out the disturbing
-elements and shut them up. I have offered
-every mother’s son a chance to go back to work
-to-morrow morning, on condition that he drops
-this union business; but I am told to-night
-that not one of them will accept. Ignorant
-creatures! I’ll show ’em what it means to
-fight a rich and strong concern like this, in the
-vain hope of bringing us to their terms.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_32'>32</span>“Meanwhile,” it was Villard who spoke,
-“we are to go on resisting their combined
-ignorance and impatience, and perhaps worse
-elements, losing thousands of dollars in the
-warfare, are we?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Yes, rather than give in one inch to them,”
-answered Mr. Greenough. “This is the first
-organized strike and must be made a warning
-to future disturbers. It’s those confounded
-Englishmen trying to transplant their foreign
-ideas to American soil. If we give in to them
-now, we establish a bad precedent.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I must confess,” said Villard, “that I do
-not see it. I have seen several strikes, and
-know that generally both sides lose sight of
-reason, and determine to fight it out regardless
-of cost. I am afraid, with the course you propose
-to adopt, sir, that we shall go on until the
-losses on our side or the suffering and privation
-on theirs will become unbearable; and then
-one side or the other will be forced to yield.
-If it should be they, a smouldering resentment
-will be left, ready to break out anew at
-the first convenient season. If we, they
-will feel encouraged to try still more arbitrary
-measures in the future. Or if a compromise
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_33'>33</span>be effected, it will be one that might as well be
-made to-morrow.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“You talk well for a young man,” admitted
-Mr. Greenough. “How did you come by your
-exceedingly humane and sympathetic views?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I began as an employe myself,” answered
-Villard, “and I know how they feel to some
-extent. I know what it is to work at the lowest
-drudgery of a mill, and can imagine how it
-must seem to have no hope of ever rising to a
-higher position. Hard, unremitting toil, long
-hours with endless years of hopeless work in
-prospect, the lowest possible wages, a large and
-rapidly increasing family, with perhaps an aged
-parent or invalid wife to support—I tell you
-lots of those fellows have all that to bear, knowing
-the utter impossibility of ever saving anything,
-or of raising their own condition. I say,
-sir, looking at life from their standpoint, it’s
-mighty hard.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Well, well,” put in Mr. Greenough, testily,
-“a great many of them want nothing better.
-They would not know what to do with a better
-chance for life, as you call it, if they had it.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Simply put yourself in their place, sir,”
-said Villard. “What if you were forty years
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_34'>34</span>younger than you are, and condemned to a life
-of toil at the looms, for instance, would you not
-claim the right to combine with others of like
-occupation and interests and ask for a better
-chance? These men of ours have taken an
-unreasonable way of asserting themselves, but
-I think they are entitled to our respect, and
-should be dealt with as men. An open, fair
-discussion of the wage question or the ten-hour
-law can result in nothing but good for both
-sides.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“You are young,” Mr. Greenough replied,
-“and believe everything in this world can be
-made to run exactly as you want it. When
-you are older, you’ll realize better the indifference
-and general mulishness of the world, and
-of operatives in particular. I do not believe in
-meeting and deferring to them as equals. They
-are not worth our efforts, and so long as they
-are under the influence of hot-headed devils
-who pose as labor reformers, just so long we
-are going to see trouble.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“If we were to make a fair compromise with
-them,” Mr. Burnham was speaking for the
-first time, “and let them see that we, as
-humane employers, have a greater desire for
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_35'>35</span>their interest than any foreigner can have,
-wouldn’t it work a reaction in our favor? From
-a strictly business point of view, perhaps it
-would be money in our pockets.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Yes,” urged Villard, “if we were to show
-ourselves willing to consider an intimate knowledge
-of their needs and thus prove ourselves
-their best friends, it would be only a case of
-practical philanthropy, and one which would
-raise our profits every year, I believe. It is
-only the first step that costs, you know.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I don’t believe it,” stoutly maintained the
-agent. “In my day there has been very little
-talk of managers and owners deferring to their
-help. I hire my own operatives and reserve the
-right to raise, or lower, their wages as I please.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“But, Mr. Greenough,” broke in Salome
-eagerly, “don’t you consider their circumstances
-at all? Don’t you, for instance, in a driving
-time, pay them any higher wages than in dull
-times? I think there would be nothing but
-fairness in that.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“My dear young lady,” was the answer in
-patronizing tones, “don’t bother your brains
-with such things. You cannot understand
-them. Why try?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_36'>36</span>“Imagine our Salome posing as a philanthropist
-or a social economist,” interrupted Mrs.
-Soule’s mellifluous tones. “We had a great
-laugh over the idea this afternoon.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Salome bit her lip and said nothing.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I think,” continued her aunt in the same
-smooth accents, “that we have talked business
-long enough. I am sure, Mr. Greenough, that
-Salome is, and will be perfectly satisfied with
-any course you may see fit to adopt with
-regard to the strikers. Women, you know,
-ladies at least, have no heads for business, and
-we, certainly,” with an indescribable turn of
-voice on the “we”—“we, certainly, have had
-no training to fit us for reformers. And now
-shall we not have some music? Salome, dear,
-will you play that delightful little suite of
-Moscowzki’s that I like so well?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The young woman rose and, going to the
-piano, did as she was bid, although somewhat
-mechanically. Then Mr. Greenough
-proposed a song from Mr. Burnham, who possessed
-a fine baritone voice, and the evening
-wore away with music and light conversation.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>When the three men went home, the elder
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_37'>37</span>was in fine spirits, in spite of having been
-shocked and discomfited to an unusual degree,
-by the unexpected disclosure of views which he
-termed “strong-minded” on the part of the
-fair owner of the Shawsheen Mills.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“If there should come to be hard times and
-perhaps destitution among the operatives before
-this difficulty is settled,” Salome said to John
-Villard as he was preparing to go, “such destitution
-as we read of in foreign countries in
-times of labor disturbances, I hope you will
-let me do something to relieve it. Strange as
-it may seem, I have a much better idea of
-such a state of affairs there than here—among
-my own mills.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“There will be no such state of affairs, I
-trust,” was his reply, “as is pictured in English
-novels.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“You have guessed accurately as to the
-sources of my information,” she laughed.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>He smiled too, and continued,</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Meanwhile, if we pursue the policy proposed,”
-and he glanced at Mr. Greenough, who
-was making gallant speeches to Mrs. Soule,
-“you might keep a watchful eye on the help.
-You could tell, you know, by the women, if they
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_38'>38</span>came to absolute distress. Of course, there is no
-knowing how long this thing may last.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Me! You look to me for such a thing,” and
-it was hard to tell whether her tone was amused
-or sarcastic only. “Why, Mr. Villard, I do
-not know one of the operatives in the mills—not
-even by sight. If I were to meet them on
-the main thoroughfare to-morrow I should
-not know them from other women of their
-class.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>John Villard raised his eyebrows and turned
-to put on his coat without another word. The
-situation was incomprehensible to him.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Salome saw this, and winced under it. She
-made no further attempt at conversation, but
-said good-night graciously to Mr. Greenough
-and the older superintendent, recognizing
-Villard’s parting nod at the door.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“There,” said her aunt, as they went back
-into the firelight, “I hope they won’t feel it
-necessary to come here and consult with us
-again so long as the strike is on. As though
-you knew or cared anything for it, my dear!
-But, of course, they had to come as a matter
-of form. Any way, I’m glad it is over. Play
-something.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_39'>39</span>Salome complied, playing the first thing
-which came to her mind—the opening bars of
-the <cite>Sonata Pathetique</cite>.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I wish,” she said to herself as she disrobed
-for the night, “that I were a capable woman
-of affairs—and that John Villard were my
-agent.”</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_40'>40</span>
- <h2 class='c006'>V.</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c007'>Not for a week could enough new help be
-hired to even make a show of opening the
-Shawsheen Mills. Labor Unions were a comparatively
-new thing in this country, and were
-not so thoroughly organized as now; and a
-few of the old operatives, rather than starve,
-were glad to go back into the mills on any
-condition. But the great majority refused
-with indignation to give up their claims, and
-proceeded to “make things hot,” as they
-expressed it, for the “scabs” and “mudsills.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Work was attempted in the mills, although
-many looms stood silent and the spinning-mules
-were entirely deserted. Thread for warp was
-procured from a neighboring city at no small
-expense and the mills were run at a loss, to
-prove the agent’s assertion that “he would
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_41'>41</span>show them who was manager of the Shawsheen
-Mills.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>This sort of thing was kept up four days.
-On the fifth morning, the operatives went as
-usual to the mill, but the machinery, after a
-few insufficient groans, gave up in despair and
-settled into utter quiet.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>What was the matter?</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>There was a great hurrying to and fro, and
-a close examination of belts and machinery.
-Word was soon brought up from the basement.
-The engines had been tampered with; on each
-of them the belts had been cut. The jocularly
-inclined said the “engines had joined
-the Union;”—while everybody wondered
-what effect this stroke would have on the agent.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The premises were examined and the night-watchman
-questioned. Evidently the deed had
-been done by some one familiar with the place,
-but there was not the slightest clue. He had
-done well his work, and the mills were stopped
-for repairs.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Otis Greenough blustered about and cursed
-the whole business; but he was farther than
-ever from a compromise, declaring that he
-would yet beat them with their own weapons.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_42'>42</span>The night-watch was doubled and the mills
-were opened again the next day. But the employers
-were fighting a desperate party and little
-calculated their strength. The man who had
-succeeded so well in his first attempt to stop the
-mills risked himself again; and on the second
-morning the machinery again refused to start.
-This time a small wheel had been removed
-from each engine and carried away. The
-water-wheel had long been in partial disuse and
-could not be trusted without the engines.
-Hence, there was nothing to be done but to stop
-again for repairs. This time it was a week
-before the engines were in running order.
-And yet, not a word passed between the agent
-and the strikers.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The night-watch were discharged and new
-ones engaged. A special police was secured to
-patrol the mill-yard, and when the mills were
-again opened, it was with the avowed determination
-to keep them going in spite of every
-earthly power.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The next morning, notwithstanding the
-positive assertions of police and night-watch
-that no one had been near the mills, every
-band connecting the looms to the machinery
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_43'>43</span>above was cut in half a dozen places. Then
-the superstitious operatives whispered among
-themselves that unseen agencies were linked
-with the Union, and that the strikers must
-succeed in the end; and many of the fainthearted
-went over to the new labor party.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“It is of no use trying to run the mills in this
-way,” said Mr. Burnham. “We have already
-lost several thousand dollars. We must compromise.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Never,” said Mr. Greenough. “The terms
-of Floyd Shepard’s will grant me absolute
-power here, and so long as I live, it shall never
-be said that an educated, trained and levelheaded
-business man was overcome by a lot
-of ignorant bullies and agitators. These Labor
-Unions all over the State need an example.
-There is money enough in the mill treasury to
-fight them until they starve themselves out.
-No other mill or corporation about here will
-hire them, and it is only a matter of weeks
-or months when absolute poverty forces them
-to yield. Not one inch will I give in to them.
-They shall come back as beggars, glad to
-accept work at even lower wages than they
-have ever had. I’ll teach them a lesson.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_44'>44</span>Geoffrey Burnham turned away full of anger
-that a flourishing business should be destroyed
-by one man’s obstinacy. John Villard went
-back to the silent looms, full of righteous
-indignation, not only at the total disregard of
-practical business interests, but at the want of
-humanity and philanthropy and Christian charity,
-which by his subordinate position he must
-seem to countenance.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Weeks lengthened themselves into months,
-and still the Shawsheen Mills were closed.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Salome Shepard, after spending the holiday
-season with friends in New York, came home,
-satiated with social success, and a little tired of
-the endless pursuit of pleasure. Still the mills
-lay idle and Otis Greenough refused to talk any
-more with her on the subject of the strike.
-And the terms of her father’s will held her
-powerless, even had she chosen to exercise her
-authority.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>But she chafed under the knowledge that
-two thousand people, who were in a sense dependent
-upon her for their daily bread, were
-out of work in the midst of a hard winter.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>One day she went to walk down among the
-people who were suffering, now, for a principle.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_45'>45</span>She was amazed at the gaunt, hungry look
-of the old men; and self-accused at the
-pinched and wan faces of the few children who
-played in the narrow streets. Unthinking, she
-had put on a seal-skin cloak. It was a cold
-day, and furs, to her, were only a natural
-accompaniment to the frosts of winter.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>But going down the uncared-for side-walk,
-she rebuked herself, noting the single shawl
-and calico dress of an old woman who was
-wearily making her way a few paces in front
-of her. Presently the woman stopped, seized
-with a paroxysm of coughing.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Salome came up with her, and looked into
-the white face, which told of hard times.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Madam,” she said, respectfully, “can I be
-of any assistance to you? Shall I not help
-you home?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Her tone and manner were exactly the same
-she would have used to any of her aunt’s
-friends. It did not occur to her to be patronizing
-or condescending.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The old woman stared at her. She was not
-used to being addressed as “Madam.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Yes’m,” she said, presently. “I live up
-to the other end of the street. If the cough
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_46'>46</span>wasn’t so bad, an’ my side didn’t ketch me
-so! But if I can git back to my own chair
-ag’in——”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Another fit of coughing seized her, and
-interrupted the “garrulousness of uncultured
-old age.” Salome waited until she got breath
-again and then took her by the arm, accommodating
-her steps to the feebler ones.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Here and there a surprised face peered
-curiously at her through a dirty window, knowing
-who she was, and wondering that she condescended
-to walk with old Granny Lancaster.
-Everywhere a general air of poverty, perhaps
-of actual hunger, impressed this woman, who
-had inherited the tumble-down tenement houses
-on each side.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I beg your pardon,” she said, “but do you
-eat nourishing food enough? Good beef-steak
-and roast-beef would help your cough more
-than medicine.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The old woman laughed, a grating, cackling
-laugh.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Beef-steak and roast-beef ain’t for the likes
-o’ me,” she said. “Meat of any kind ain’t for
-us in times o’ strikes. May the Lord above
-send us oatmeal enough to keep us through
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_47'>47</span>till the mills open ag’in is all I ask. Here’s my
-house. Much ’bleeged, lady.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Salome wanted to go inside the rickety old
-door and follow the woman up the dirty stairway,
-but she did not say so, and the old woman
-hobbled up the steps without asking her in.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Salome felt impulsively in her pocket, and
-drawing out her porte-monnaie, emptied its
-contents into the dirty, emaciated palm of
-Granny Lancaster. Then she turned and
-walked rapidly back home.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The next day Otis Greenough called on her.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“My dear,” he said, after an hour or two
-passed in desultory conversation, “may I beg
-that you will keep away from the operatives?
-Impulsive and injudicious charity does them
-more harm than anything else. No doubt the
-part of Lady Bountiful seems a pleasant and
-desirable one, but, just now, you are not fitted
-for it.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“What do you mean, sir?” asked she in a
-puzzled tone.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“For instance,” he went on, “the money
-you gave a certain old woman on the corporation
-yesterday was taken by her son-in-law
-last night, and furnished him an opportunity
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_48'>48</span>for a glorious old drunk. I beg your
-pardon for using their phraseology. He was
-arrested before morning for drunkenness and
-disorderly conduct.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I do not comprehend,” she stammered.
-“The woman said they had no meat. She was
-actually suffering for nourishing food. I gave
-the money, impulsively it is true, but that
-they need not go hungry.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Now, you see, my dear,” he answered,
-“just how much encouragement one gets in
-trying to do anything for the laboring classes.
-They turn upon you and use the goodness of
-your heart and your generous motives to drag
-themselves down to a lower depth of degradation.
-Good-day, my dear, and don’t be led
-away by your feelings.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Salome stood looking after him, heart-sick
-and discouraged. The world—her part of it,
-at least—was all wrong, and she, with plenty
-of money and an awakening desire to help, was
-powerless. She ordered the pony phaeton
-again and started for a drive. She obeyed a
-sudden impulse to go through the factory precincts.
-There were evidences of a suppressed
-excitement. Knots of desperate-looking men
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_49'>49</span>stood about. But they hushed their voices as
-she drew near, and stood in sullen silence as
-she passed.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“There is evidently something in the wind,”
-she thought, urging the pony to quicken his
-pace.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>She did not know that the committee from
-the Labor Union had that morning made a
-third attempt to treat with her agent and
-failed.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“No compromise,” was still his watchword.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I’ll send for Marion Shaw,” she said to
-herself, on her way home an hour later. “She
-is a practical, sensible, business-like woman.
-Perhaps she will know of some way to help me
-to help others. And she needs rest.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>This idea so inspired her that she arrived
-home quite elated, and stated her plan to Mrs.
-Soule at dinner-time with much animation.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>But later in the evening, the groups of men
-she had seen on “the corporation” came back
-to her mind and caused her a certain feeling of
-uneasiness. What had they been talking about
-so excitedly as she drew near?</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>It was one of those suddenly warm nights
-in January that succeed, in our fickle climate,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_50'>50</span>a bitter cold day, and Salome felt an unaccountable
-desire to be in the open air. She threw
-on a warm wrap and hood, and saying nothing,
-went out on the piazza, and crossed the lawn
-to a favorite walk of hers in summer—a path
-under a long group of fir-trees down by the
-street at the back of the house.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>After a few turns, she heard a peculiar
-whistle which was answered by another.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>She withdrew still more into the shadow and
-waited. Presently two men met.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Well, what’s the news?” eagerly asked
-one.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Sh—sh! not so loud,” replied the other.
-“It’s all right, and better than we expected.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Why—how better?” asked the first.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>They spoke lower, so that Salome could
-scarcely catch the tones.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Because,” the first was saying, “the old
-man himself has gone down to the mill.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Whe—e—w!”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Yes. What on earth possessed him? But
-then that’s none of our affairs. If he wants to
-run the risk of losing his life—that’s his
-business, not mine.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Well, but,” and the first voice had a timid
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_51'>51</span>note, “that’s going too far—we were only to
-blow up the mill—not to kill anybody.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Can’t help that. Fifteen minutes more,
-if everything works well, and old man Greenough’s
-day is over. Jim’s just about lighting
-the fuse, I reckon, now. It’s an awful
-long one, but the fire’ll creep round there in
-time.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“What about the police?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“He’s all right. We’ve fixed him.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The voices grew fainter and ceased altogether,
-only the dull sound of the men’s footsteps
-reaching her as they passed down the hill away
-from the grounds.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Salome stood an instant, rooted to the spot.
-What was this horrible thing she had heard?</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The factory to be blown up?</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>She must go for help.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>And Mr. Greenough down there, risking his
-life?</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>No. There was no time to get help.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Fifteen minutes more, if everything works
-well, and old man Greenough’s day is over.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The whole plot flashed across her bewildered
-brain. She dashed through the back-gate and
-down the deserted street towards the mills. It
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_52'>52</span>was a ten minutes’ walk across that way, but she
-ran,—flew,—tore down the lonely road in less
-than half that time.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Otis Greenough might be an unreasonable,
-hot-headed, obstinate agent, but he was her
-father’s friend and had loved and petted her
-when she was a motherless child.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>What could she do? Raise an alarm? Call
-for help? Rouse everybody?</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>But the fuse was already lighted.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Where was it?</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Under the office window most likely, since
-they knew that the old agent was in there.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>She came in sight of that window. There
-was a dim light there. All else was dark.
-The south wind moaned dismally.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>She hurried faster and came nearer the office
-window. Under it was another window with a
-broken pane, from which hung something she
-instantly divined as the fuse.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Yes. A fiery spark crept closer and closer
-to the wall.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>By the time she reached the window it was
-out of her reach.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Oh, God! could she do nothing?</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>She had been sewing on some dainty trifle
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_53'>53</span>earlier in the evening, and a pair of small
-scissors still hung at her waist.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Closer drew the spark of fire to the broken
-window pane, whence it would disappear to work
-its fearful errand. It seemed to twinkle and
-mock at her in fiendish delight. She grasped
-the jutting window-frame and jumped upon the
-broad sill.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Thank God, she had it at last. One snip of
-her scissors, and the spark of fire dropped harmlessly
-to the ground. She turned slightly to
-step off the window-ledge. Her foot slipped
-and she fell, a white, faint heap upon the
-ground.</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_54'>54</span>
- <h2 class='c006'>VI.</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c007'>When she opened her eyes again, not only
-Otis Greenough but John Villard and an office-boy
-were bending anxiously over her.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“My dear girl,” the agent was saying, “bless
-me, my dear, what is it? How came you here
-and who has harmed you?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Don’t be alarmed, sir,” was her reply, as
-she got on her feet; and then, somewhat
-excitedly, she told the events of the last fifteen
-or twenty minutes, interrupted, every other
-sentence, by such ejaculations as, “Great Scott,”
-“Bless me,” “The rascals,” “Confound them,”
-from the elderly man, while the younger one
-listened in silent amazement.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Rapid search was made and the night-watch
-was found sleeping, in a stupor which was evidently
-the work of a drug; while the police
-were, as usual, nowhere to be found.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_55'>55</span>Salome was taken into the office—not without
-inward trembling, as she feared further
-evidences of the miscreants.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Mr. Villard soon reported two kegs of gunpowder
-and a small dynamite bomb in the
-room below, at the same time congratulating,
-most heartily, the young woman who had saved
-their lives as well as the mills.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>But her courage was now at a low ebb, and,
-woman-like, she shivered at the close proximity
-of gunpowder, and begged to be taken home.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Mr. Greenough, who had come to realize the
-danger to himself and to the mills which his
-obstinacy had provoked, was also anxious to leave
-the premises and glad to accompany Salome
-home.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>John Villard, meanwhile, attended to the
-duty of finding new watchmen who should be
-reliable,—a difficult task. Against his will, he
-promised Salome not to sleep at the mills, as he
-had been doing since the machinery had been
-tampered with.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Salome was nearly prostrated when she
-reached home, and had but little strength left
-with which to importune the agent to consent
-to any terms for a settlement; but as the old
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_56'>56</span>man was, for once, thoroughly frightened, it
-was not difficult to exact a promise that he
-would consider a compromise.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Mrs. Soule, when she learned of Salome’s
-intrepidity,—set forth as it was by Mr. Greenough’s
-gratitude and gallant appreciation,—was
-greatly concerned for her niece and put her
-straightway to bed, where, in fact, she had supposed
-her to be for the past hour, and where
-she wept over and caressed her as she had not
-done since the girl had left home for boarding-school.
-And then, what was far more to the
-purpose, she gave her a bath of alcohol and
-olive oil, and soothed her to sleep.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Early the next morning the agent of the
-Shawsheen Mills sent a messenger over to the
-dingy room which served as headquarters for
-the Labor Union, begging for an interview.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>As this was the first overture of peace from
-his side, it was natural that it should be hailed
-with glee by the officers of the Union. And
-although, the day before, the leaders of the
-strike had been closeted together in a serious
-debate as to how much they should yield to
-Capital, they now unanimously agreed not to
-“weaken” in the smallest degree.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_57'>57</span>As for the agent, he had been persuaded to
-yield every point demanded by the strikers, insisting
-only upon the one condition, that the
-Labor Union should be disbanded.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The question of ten hours he granted without
-a murmur. He quibbled a long time over
-the wage question, and the subject of weekly
-payments, and only on seeing the dogged determination
-of the laborers did he come to terms
-on that. But he very properly, and too
-peremptorily, refused to remove the spinning
-frames which had formed one subject
-of contention. And then he proceeded to
-overthrow the good effects of what concessions
-he had made, by violently denouncing all
-labor unions, and vigorously insisting that the
-one known as the Shawsheen Labor Union be
-immediately and forever disbanded.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Never,” said the foremost of the committee,
-“will we submit to so arbitrary a demand. We
-have a perfect right to organize our forces and
-assert our claims. How can we—a band of
-day-laborers,—dependent on capital for a bare
-living, win a single cause for ourselves without
-combinations of this kind? There are scores of
-questions which involve not our welfare in one
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_58'>58</span>way alone, but our health, our wages, our
-morals, our manhood, which we, as single individuals,
-can never cope with, but which, as a
-united force, we can adjust. Besides, in all
-departments of labor, the women and children
-equal or exceed the men. There are to-day
-one hundred and seventy-five thousand more
-women working in mills than there were ten
-years ago; and what are they but the weakest
-and most dependent of employes? They have
-no strength to agitate; they have no power to
-change any existing order of things. All they
-can do is to toil and submit. We owe it to
-them as men, as husbands, brothers, and sons,
-to lighten their burdens. As free American
-citizens we owe it to ourselves, to settle the
-conditions of our own lives, so far as may be.
-This can only be done by combinations of the
-laboring classes strong enough to compel manufacturers
-to concede us our rights.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“You are right to a degree,” answered Villard,
-before Mr. Greenough could swallow his
-surprise at hearing such sentiments from one of
-his operatives; “I believe there are some rights
-which you can only secure by a combination of
-your forces as working-men. But when you
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_59'>59</span>let reason lose its sway, and passion take its
-place; when you are influenced by unworthy
-demagogues and unbalanced cranks, and seek
-to effect by strikes and such arbitrary measures
-what might be better secured by a more conciliatory
-course, you must not be surprised if
-you do not succeed in bull-dozing a rich concern
-like this into obedience, and——”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“And when, by your —— labour unions, you
-sink so low as to countenance incendiarism and
-murder—yes, sirs—that is what you attempted
-last night, sirs,—you can’t expect this mill is
-going to countenance them. I’ll see you all
-starve and rot first,” and Otis Greenough’s face
-was purple with anger.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“We have already disclaimed all knowledge
-in our Union, sir,” said one of the committee,
-“of last night’s outrage.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Blast it, what do I care for that?” roared
-the agent, as usual, out of temper. “Whether
-you knew it or not, it was done under cover of
-your strike, and your Union, and was one of the
-precious outgrowths of it. Give up the ——
-thing, I say—or there is no compromise with
-these mills.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“There is little use in prolonging this interview,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_60'>60</span>I am afraid,” said the first of the committee,
-taking up his hat.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Impudent dogs!” said Mr. Greenough, as
-Villard tried to speak, anxious to put things on
-a more satisfactory basis before the meeting
-closed. “Let them go. They’ll find hard
-hoeing before they reach the end of their row.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“And, sir,” retorted a fiery-looking man who
-had not spoken before, “if it comes to open
-war you’ll find us tough customers. We shall
-fight it out like men, even if we starve like
-beasts.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>And with these words the committee departed,
-leaving matters worse than ever before in the
-affairs of the Shawsheen Mills.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>In vain did the two superintendents plead
-and argue and threaten the choleric old agent.
-His blood was up and he was a veritable charger
-on the eve of battle. There was no state board
-of arbitration then, and therefore no available
-way of settling their difficulties except among
-themselves. And as discussion only made
-matters worse, the subject which was always
-uppermost in these three men’s minds was
-tacitly dropped. Every precaution was taken
-to insure the mills from the danger it had
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_61'>61</span>escaped the night before, and a detective was
-obtained from Boston to hunt out the criminals
-who had perpetrated the dastardly act.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>At noon, they were all surprised by a note
-from Miss Shepard. It ran as follows:</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-l c010'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>“<span class='sc'>Dear Mr. Greenough</span>,</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c009'>“As the owner of the Shawsheen Mill property,
-I hereby appoint a meeting of all its
-officers at my house, to-night. Please have
-them here at eight o’clock.</p>
-
-<p class='c009'>“Pardon me for the liberty I have seemed to
-take, and believe me ever a loving and respectful
-friend,</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-r c010'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>“<span class='sc'>Salome Shepard</span>.”</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Well, you hear that, boys,” said Mr. Greenough,
-after reading it aloud. “Be on hand.
-Tell the treasurer and cashier and head book-keeper.
-We’ll all be there. The Lord only
-knows what she is up to; but if that young
-woman hasn’t got a level head on her shoulders,
-then I don’t know who has.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I reckon you’re right, sir,” echoed Mr.
-Burnham, while John Villard laughed in his
-sleeve at the young woman who evidently
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_62'>62</span>dreamed of settling a prolonged strike.
-“Why,” he said to himself, “she has never
-known enough of the practical side of mill-life
-to recognize one of her operatives, and hardly
-knows the different brands of cloth manufactured
-by them.”</p>
-
-<hr class='c011'>
-
-<p class='c008'>Salome Shepard had waked at an early hour
-that morning and found herself unable to
-sleep again. Her mind was alive with
-gratitude for the part she had been able to
-play the night before, with apprehension for
-the future, and with increasing self-accusation
-for the state of things in the Shawsheen Mills,
-both past and present.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Pshaw!” she said to herself while dressing,
-true to her habit of communing with her own
-conscience in default of a visible mentor,
-“how can I be blamed for the state of things
-here? The entire business of the mills was
-put out of my hands by my father’s will. I
-could have done no differently.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“You could,” replied that sternest of
-modern inquisitors—a New England conscience.
-“It was in your power to see that the moral
-and physical condition of these people was improved
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_63'>63</span>and cultivated. It was in your power
-to give them better homes and more privileges.
-It was in your power to raise their standards of
-life and to create new ones. But you have
-ignored their very existence, and let them live
-a mean and sordid life of unremitting toil, in
-order to furnish you with money to live a
-selfish life of luxurious ease.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Salome tied the blue ribbons to her wrapper,
-and giving her crimps a last touch went down
-to breakfast.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Knowing she would be opposed, she said
-nothing of her plans for the morning to her
-aunt, but simply announced, after they had
-left the table, that she was going for a long
-walk.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Then she went upstairs and put on the
-plainest costume she owned (which, by the way,
-was a tailor-made gown that had cost her one
-hundred and fifty dollars), and started for the
-tenement houses where her operatives lived.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>It did not occur to her to feel any fear; nor
-that the miscreants who had planned the explosion
-for the previous night might be watching
-her footsteps. She felt it incumbent upon
-her to see for herself exactly how these people
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_64'>64</span>lived, and what they were bearing and suffering
-in consequence of the strike.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>In the bright glare of the morning sun, the
-tenement houses had never looked so dingy and
-mean. They were built in Newbern Shepard’s
-day, and had received but very few repairs
-since that time. Although it was cold January
-weather, Salome counted a dozen panes of
-glass gone from the first house, and noticed
-that the lower hinge to the front door was
-broken. It was a two-story wooden building
-with four tenements of four rooms each.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>She ascended the rickety steps and rapped
-on the door. One of the women saw her from
-a front window and came to the door, holding
-it open only so far as to permit her to see the
-strange caller.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Good-morning,” said Salome in pleasant
-tones.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Good-morning, miss.” The politeness of
-Salome’s manner thawed the other woman, and
-the door opened a little wider. “Will you
-walk in?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>That was precisely what she had come for,
-and Salome stepped inside with alacrity. She
-found herself in the sitting-room and living-room
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_65'>65</span>of the family. It was a meager home.
-The remnant of a faded oil-cloth was on the
-floor. The walls were unpapered and devoid
-of any attempts at ornament, except one unframed,
-dilapidated old lithograph of “The
-Queen of the West,”—a buxom young woman
-with disproportionately large black eyes, a
-dress of bright scarlet cut extremely <i><span lang="fr">décolleté</span></i>,
-and cheeks of a yet more vivid hue. A pine
-table covered with a stamped red cloth was
-littered with cheap, trashy story-papers and
-pamphlets addressed “To the Laboring Men
-of America.” An old lounge, with broken
-springs, and six common wooden chairs constituted
-the other furnishings of the room.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Salome’s first thought as she looked about
-her was:</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I don’t wonder these people get discontented
-and clamor for something which seems
-to them better.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>But she found, before the forenoon was over,
-many houses that were not so pleasant as this.
-For, once inside these rooms, everything was
-neat and clean, and the woman who answered
-her questions was civil if not talkative.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>She found that five people lived in these
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_66'>66</span>four small rooms: this woman, her two
-daughters, a son-in-law, and a grandchild.
-She also found that the other tenements contained
-five, six, and seven people, making
-twenty-three in all. There were absolutely no
-sanitary arrangements, and she discovered that
-the sanitation of this tenement house district
-consisted only of surface drainage. According to
-the statements of her hostess, there was nearly
-always somebody “ailing” in these houses.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The first house she went into was a fair
-sample of the remainder. A few were slightly
-better, but more were in a worse condition. In
-most instances she was respectfully received,
-although at three houses she was met by ungracious
-people, and received gruff replies to
-her kindly-put inquiries.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Everywhere, strong, able-bodied men were
-lounging about in enforced idleness; and one
-of them, resenting, with true American independence,
-this intrusion into the sacred precincts
-of his miserable home, plainly intimated
-that “they was well enough off now, and didn’t
-want no rich folks as was livin’ on money <em>they</em>
-earned, to come pryin’ round their houses.”
-Finally, at the last of the tenement houses she
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_67'>67</span>was met by a surly, burly mule-spinner, who
-gruffly refused her admittance.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Nothing daunted, however, she sought out a
-boarding-house for the young women of the
-mills. The landlady, recognizing her, invited
-her in and willingly told her all about the life
-of mill-girls, offering, at last, to show her their
-rooms.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Salome gladly accepted and followed the
-woman up bare, unpainted stairs to the rooms
-on the second and third floors. These were
-small and perfectly bare of comforts, almost of
-necessities. The floors were uncarpeted and
-guiltless of paint, or even of a very recent application
-of soap and water. They had no closets.
-A common pine bedstead—sometimes two of
-them—in each room, two chairs, in one of
-which stood a tin basin, while beside it on the
-floor stood a bucket of water, and a small
-bureau, made up the sum total of the furniture.
-In only one room did Salome see any evidences
-of a literary taste, and that, if she had known
-it, was a cheap paper, the worst of the sensational
-class.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Salome’s heart sank within her. She no
-longer wondered that the mill-girls of to-day
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_68'>68</span>were a discontented, ignorant set, nor that
-many of them sank into lives of degradation.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“The rooms are good enough for the girls,”
-said the woman, noticing the look of disgust
-on Salome’s tell-tale face. “They seem poor
-enough to elegant ladies like you. But these
-girls know no better. And they are good
-enough to sleep off a drunk in,” she added,
-roughly.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“You don’t mean to say,” asked her guest,
-“that any of your girls get intoxicated?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Intoxicated? I don’t know what else
-you’d call it, when they have to be helped in
-at eleven o’clock Saturday night, and put to
-bed, and don’t get up again until Monday
-morning.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Salome was sick with pity and shame for
-her sex. She no longer questioned whether
-she had a mission toward these, her people.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>She went home and wrote the note to Mr.
-Greenough, given in an earlier part of this
-chapter.</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_69'>69</span>
- <h2 class='c006'>VII.</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c007'>Promptly, at the hour named, Otis Greenough,
-accompanied by the other officers of the
-mill, appeared at the mansion of the Shepard
-family.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Tall, beautiful, and always impressive in her
-bearing, Salome was at her best to-night.
-The fire of a new-born purpose was in her
-face, and a new force, born of spiritual struggles,
-stamped upon her brow.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>There are people who can look calmly upon
-a sunset, and see nothing but a glare of red and
-yellow light. There are others who see in it
-a glorious picture with matchless tints and
-shadows. There are yet others, fewer, indeed,
-than the rest, but who hold the secret of God’s
-holy purpose written more or less plainly in
-their souls; who see not only the glare of red
-and yellow light, whose brilliant tints and deep
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_70'>70</span>tones make an unrivaled picture, but who read
-something of the deeper meanings of the Great
-Artist; who receive into their own hearts some
-part of the glowing light which strengthens
-purpose, and crystallizes hopes and ideals
-hitherto dreamy and undefined.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Salome Shepard had stood at a western
-window at sunset. In the hush and stillness
-of the hour, the poet-quality of her soul
-had interpreted to her the meaning of life
-and the great fact of human brotherhood.
-And when she finally drew the curtains on the
-deepening night, she felt that a sudden revelation
-had come to her—that, at last, her life
-purpose, in the shape of a sternly defined duty,
-stood revealed.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Well,” said Mr. Greenough, after a few
-moments of aimless conversation, for nobody
-seemed desirous of taking the initiative,
-“what are you going to do with us all to-night,
-little girl? Don’t you think you rather usurp
-the privileges of an old man in calling together
-a meeting to discuss business, of which he is
-the legal head? Come, give an account of
-yourself and your quixotic actions.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Oh, I beg that none of you will think
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_71'>71</span>that.” And Salome looked around the room
-appealingly. “I simply wished that we might
-have a fair and honest talk. I want every one
-here to express his views. And I want to express
-mine—for at last, thank heaven, I have
-some.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Getting strong-minded, eh?” retorted Mr.
-Greenough. “Well, go on. I suppose you
-want to practice on us before taking a larger
-field. Going to take the suffrage platform?
-or build school-houses for the niggers? Or do
-you aspire to the bureau of Indian Affairs?
-Which is it?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“None of them,” responded Salome, inwardly
-resenting the untimely jest, but determined
-not to show her impatience. “None of them.
-I propose to begin nearer home. I propose to
-go to work, earnestly, and I hope practically,
-to raise the condition, morally, mentally and
-physically, of my own factory-people.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Bravo!” exclaimed Villard and the head
-book-keeper.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“And I have called you here,” pursued
-Salome, “to ask each and every one of you to
-be my assistant and coadjutor. I have not
-been thinking of nothing, during the last three
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_72'>72</span>months. I am a woman, comparatively young,
-and with absolutely no knowledge of the practical
-side of a working-man’s life. But I have
-been thinking, and my conclusions are these:
-that a strike is a much more serious matter for
-the working-people than it is for us. We act
-as if they go out on a strike either to annoy us
-or to have a good time. I have been down
-among them—sought the by-ways and
-hedges, as it were—and I tell you they
-are having anything but a good time.
-This strike is the outcome of want and privation,
-and it has brought the people to still
-greater want and privation. I believe they are
-not a set of noisy malcontents on the lookout
-for an opportunity to create a disturbance.
-On the contrary, they see in this course the
-only chance of bringing before the public questions
-of vital importance to them. They earn
-their bread by the sweat of their brow—and
-not always good bread either,—while we, as
-capitalists, are hoarding up money. At the
-most, they get very little of what their work
-really yields. I desire, above all things, sir,
-that you grant their desires and no longer
-require them to give up their Labor Union.
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_73'>73</span>Capitalists have their Board of Trade, which
-virtually amounts to the same thing. Let the
-workmen have their one chance to assert themselves
-by a combination of their forces. And
-let each side show to the other that tolerance
-and Christian charity which each demands
-from the other.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“What about the tolerance and Christian
-charity of the outrage they tried to perpetrate
-last night?” asked Mr. Greenough.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I do not believe the Labor Union is responsible
-for that,” replied Salome, with a far-seeing
-sympathy in her eyes. “Unfortunately
-it was an outgrowth of their opinions, passions
-and prejudices. But you must confess, sir,
-that had you met them with the tolerance
-which the growing spirit of the age demands,
-there is little likelihood that matters would
-ever have reached the point where such an
-action could have been planned. I want this
-strike ended on any terms. I want to see the
-operatives, every one of them, at work again at
-fair wages. And then, God helping me, I propose
-to do something for their elevation—something
-to help them live better, cleaner,
-manly and womanly lives—something which
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_74'>74</span>shall carry out my grandfather’s noble plans,
-and help make the factory system of New
-England one of her grandest achievements.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Miss Shepard is right,” said Mr. Burnham:
-“our factory, like many another, has been run
-too long on the system of <i><span lang="fr">laissez-faire</span></i>. I have
-come to believe in a political economy which
-insists upon the liveliest activity on the part of
-capitalists, to put their employes upon the best
-possible footing as to the material surroundings
-of life; that they have all the advantage
-as to health, morals and happiness which comes
-from sanitary regulation and practical education.
-I believe that only when we adopt such
-a political economy as this shall we draw the
-largest possible dividends from the products of
-a community comparatively free from crime,
-intemperance, poverty and vice of every kind.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Yes,” urged Villard, “each one of us,
-laborer or capitalist, has duties to perform
-which cannot be shirked or shifted to the
-shoulders of Fate—another name for the theory
-of <i><span lang="fr">laissez-faire</span></i>. The new political economy
-will demand that every one who, in his or her
-public or private capacity, can do anything to
-relieve misery, to combat evil, to redress wrong,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_75'>75</span>to assert the right, shall do so with heart and
-soul.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“You see,” said Salome, delighted that two
-strong, thinking men thus endorsed and voiced
-her sentiments, “we have been acting on the
-Quaker’s advice to his son: ‘Make money—honestly
-if you can; but make money.’ We
-have forgotten that Christianity says: ‘Thou
-shalt love thy neighbor as thyself,’ ‘Do unto
-others as ye would that men should do unto
-you,’ ‘Bear one another’s burdens,’ and ‘Love
-one another.’ But we have practically said:
-‘Love thyself; seek thine own advantage; promote
-thine own welfare; put money in thy purse;
-the welfare of others is not thy business.’”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I must confess,” answered Otis Greenough,
-speaking slowly and huskily, “that I cannot,
-after a life-long devotion to old-fashioned ideas,
-take any stock in these new-fangled, impracticable
-ones. I cannot, at my time of life, change
-my ideas; and neither can I endorse your proposition
-to make a public spectacle of ourselves
-in the future. Mills are run to make money.
-So long as I hold the position imposed upon
-me by the late Floyd Shepard, so long shall
-I refuse to countenance extravagance and quixotism.
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_76'>76</span>But I am an old man. No one cares
-any longer what I think. It is the young
-people with no experience whose opinions count
-nowadays. I am an old man who has had his
-day——”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Don’t, I beg of you, sir, talk like that,”
-interrupted Salome. “We do value your
-opinion; we do intend to refer to your judgment;
-we——”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“What is that?” cried Mrs. Soule in alarm,
-from her seat near the window.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“It is some one throwing gravel against the
-panes,” said the cashier as a second shower
-came rattling against the window. He parted
-the curtains and looked out.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“The grounds are full of men. We are
-mobbed, by George!”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The old agent’s blood was up in a moment,
-and regardless of the presence of ladies he
-swore in good, set terms, that the rascals
-should be arrested and imprisoned for this.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Then, unconscious of danger, in spite of the
-attempts of Villard and the rest to hold him
-back, he marched, like an old hero, boldly out
-on to the veranda which faced a crowd of
-excited workmen.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_77'>77</span>They had held a stormy meeting at the
-Labor Union, and the worst element among
-them had become desperate, and swore to
-“bring the old man to terms.” They had gone
-in a body to the mills, where they hoped to
-find some of their employers in consultation.
-There they had found that the whole force
-of their opponents had gone to the great
-Shepard Mansion. Nothing daunted, they
-turned their steps thither, and at every street
-corner were joined by the element of hoodlumism
-which is always scattered about over the
-streets of a large and poorly-governed town.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Hence the mob that confronted the officers
-of the Shawsheen Mills held all the elements
-of danger and disturbance.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>When Otis Greenough’s bald head appeared
-before them, the crowd set up a yell of mingled
-derision and defiance.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Give us our rights, old Baldy” shouted one
-voice.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Give us fair play and fair wages,” called
-another, while worse epithets were hurled at
-him, from the roughs in the rear.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Otis Greenough’s face was purple.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“This is outrageous!” he exclaimed in hot
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_78'>78</span>haste. “What right have you to come here
-and defile an honest citizen’s premises with
-your wretched, polluting presence?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Stop that, now!” shouted one of the leaders.
-“Fair play all round. If you won’t come to
-us, we’ll come to you, and compel you to make
-terms, and decent ones, with us. We want——”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>But the crowd of street idlers who had come
-in search of excitement, and not argument, grew
-restless, and broke in noisily; and when Otis
-Greenough opened his mouth to speak again,
-he was struck squarely in the face by a handful
-of gravel and mud.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Then a sudden hush fell over the mob.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>For what was this unexpected white form
-which appeared in the doorway, and advanced
-to meet them?</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Salome was dressed in a clinging, white, soft
-serge, with falls of fine lace at the neck and
-wrists, and under the dim light of the piazza-lamp,
-she seemed like an angel of retribution,
-her eyes flaming reproach, and her hands raised
-in deprecation.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Aren’t you ashamed of yourselves?” she
-burst forth, in ringing tones. “You, who call
-yourselves honest men, and loyal citizens! You
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_79'>79</span>who come here with a claim for fair play, you
-who come here to assert the right of every
-American to be treated with respect by every
-other; to insult and maltreat an old man with
-white hair—a man whom, as a long associate
-in your work, you should honor? Do you
-come to my house to call forth a man who
-was even now listening to plans for the improvement
-of your homes and lives and prospects,
-simply that you may turn yourselves into
-a pack of dogs to bark at him? Go home.
-Lay aside your prejudices and your low, unworthy
-passions, and think whether we be
-entirely in the wrong. Think whether you are
-showing yourselves worthy of being trusted?
-Go home and weigh calmly your conduct
-against that of these officers, and decide for
-yourselves whether you deserve to be met half-way.
-And I give you my word of honor as
-owner of the Shawsheen Mills, that when you
-decide to behave like men and not like beasts,
-you shall be treated as men. You shall have
-good places with good pay. You shall find
-that we are willing to do as much as—yes,
-more, than you are willing to do for us, and
-that we will meet you half-way in the open,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_80'>80</span>fair discussion of all points connected with the
-labor question.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Three cheers for the lady!” shouted a
-hoodlum, who cared not which side he was on,
-provided he could make a noise.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>But the cheers were stayed, and further demonstration
-was choked in utterance. For
-Otis Greenough fell suddenly at the feet of
-the woman who stood there boldly championing
-him and her sense of right.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The superintendent carried him quickly within
-and put him on a sofa; a physician was hastily
-summoned, and in a few words Villard dismissed
-the mob, now hushed and awe-stricken.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>But Otis Greenough in one moment had
-passed beyond the disturbances of howling
-malcontents, beyond the petty smallness of his
-old-fashioned and cramped ideas, out into that
-world where there is no fear of anarchy and
-socialism, no disgrace in being a philanthropist,
-no bounds to the heart of love for all mankind,
-and no limits to the horizon of a larger,
-diviner life.</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_81'>81</span>
- <h2 class='c006'>VIII.</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c007'>Death is never fully realized until he is an
-actual presence; and Otis Greenough’s sudden
-demise before their eyes and almost under, if
-not by, their own hands, solemnized and terrified
-the mob, and brought the strikers to a sense of
-the desperate pass to which they had come.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The members of the Labor Union laid their
-grievances aside for the time, and paid every
-mark of respect to the old agent now that he
-had passed beyond the recognition of it. A
-sudden fit of apoplexy had blotted out his
-choleric and intolerant behavior, and left only
-the remembrance that he had been their head
-for many years.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>But when he had been laid away in the new
-cemetery on Shepard Hill, the smouldering
-embers of discord began again to break forth
-into hot flames of prejudice and passion.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_82'>82</span>Geoffrey Burnham and John Villard were consulting
-together in the mill office the day after
-the funeral, when the door opened and the
-owner of the mills walked in.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I have come,” she said, in answer to their
-ill-concealed surprise, “to talk over the situation
-of the strike. I want the mills re-opened.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“We shall be only too happy to comply
-with your wishes, Miss Shepard,” said Burnham,
-placing a chair in a comfortable light for
-her. “Upon what terms do you propose it?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I want to compromise,” she answered,
-“and give them a better chance than they have
-ever had. It may take us some time to decide
-on the exact terms. Would it be better, do you
-think,”—she unconsciously turned to Villard—“to
-take them back on the old terms, re-instate
-them precisely as they were, and then go
-on and make our changes?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“That would hardly do,” he replied. “Experience
-has proved them very jealous of new
-methods, and unwilling to consent to untried
-theories. If we yield everything they demand
-now, we shall establish a bad precedent; eh,
-Burnham?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Decidedly, and we shall meet with opposition
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_83'>83</span>if we undertake any changes. If there is
-to be a remodeling of the old system, it had
-better come now.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“There must be a remodeling, it seems to
-me,” urged Salome. “Dear Mr. Greenough
-acted wisely, so far as he could, no doubt; but
-I feel that the time is come to make decided
-changes here. Perhaps I am not very clear in
-regard to them, even in my own mind. But I
-have some idea of what I want, and I shall be
-glad to have you both state your convictions
-and objections, if you have them, relating to
-everything I propose.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“It will be no light matter,” said Burnham,
-“to select a plan and perfect it at once. It
-must be a work of time and much thought.
-Still, what is your idea?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I want to put the relations between us and
-the employes,” Salome went on, “on a better
-footing—an ethical basis, if you like the term.
-We must combine the question ‘Will it pay?’
-with a higher one, ‘Is it right?’”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The two men looked at each other. Burnham
-bit his lip.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I do not propose to promise the people an
-era of absolute prosperity and uninterrupted
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_84'>84</span>progress, and let them take it as a blind destiny
-without exertion or sacrifice or patriotism on
-their part. I want to teach them to be healthy,
-intelligent, and virtuous citizens, and to expect
-from us the treatment such citizens deserve.
-I believe that such a course is for the pecuniary
-interests of the mill, as well as for theirs. I
-have heard enough of the conflicting interests
-of labor and capital; and on the other hand I
-do not believe in the twaddle that proclaims
-them one. I believe they are reciprocal,
-and that we must take that idea as fundamental.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“You propose a radical change, I fear.”
-Geoffrey Burnham’s tone held a new respect
-for this woman whom he had believed wrapped
-up in the toils of worldly and shallow aims.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Yes, I may as well own it; I do,” assented
-Salome. “Among my grandfather’s manuscripts,
-I came across, the other day, these
-sentences: ‘I would like to prove my luminous
-ideal of what a superintendent may be among
-his people. I would like to live long enough
-to show the world that the spirit of the Crucified
-may rule in a cotton-mill as fully as in
-the life of a saint.’ That sentence, gentlemen,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_85'>85</span>must speak for me. In those words lies the
-germ of my plan of action.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Silence followed her. Geoffrey Burnham
-told himself that a new era must be dawning,—the
-era foreshadowing the millennium, since she
-who held the power could so bravely avow her
-intentions to make the Shawsheen Mills an
-experiment in what he called Christian socialism.
-But John Villard, after a moment, rose
-and extended his hand to Salome.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I pledge my hearty co-operation,” he said,
-“and thank God for the opportunity to prove
-what a cotton-mill may become by the new
-Christian political economy.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Thank you,” said Salome. “And now
-let us see just what the strikers demand, and
-how far we can grant their wishes.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>John Villard produced the paper which had
-been presented on the first day of the strike,
-and placed it in Salome’s hands. It was the
-first time she had seen it. She read it through
-very carefully.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“It seems to me there was no need of these
-long months of idleness,” she commented,
-when she had finished the paper. “Now, let
-us see. First, they demand recognition, as
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_86'>86</span>the Shawsheen Labor Union. I think we may
-yield that point, safely enough.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Without modification?” inquired Geoffrey
-Burnham.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Why not?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“They will take advantage of us. They
-will dictate and become arbitrary. The Labor
-Union grows by what it feeds on. It will become
-an elephant on our hands.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Not if they have something better to take
-its place,” said Salome. “I am fully persuaded
-that they will meet us half-way, if we give them
-a union that is better than theirs. Let their
-union alone for the present.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I am with you there,” said Villard. “It
-devolves upon us to change its character into
-something that shall be, at least, as helpful as
-they <em>want</em> to make this one.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Next, the ten-hour system,” pursued Salome,
-who was not yet ready to discuss the
-improved union. “Certainly there can be
-no possible objection against granting this
-clause?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Certainly not,” said Burnham, feeling himself
-appealed to.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“‘The new frames must be taken out and
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_87'>87</span>the mules replaced, with a written agreement
-that no more of the obnoxious machinery shall
-be added for five years.’ That seems rather
-arbitrary. How is it, Mr. Villard?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“It is arbitrary,” he responded. “The
-frames must be retained. We must be allowed
-to adopt improved machines and methods, or
-where shall we be in this age of competition?
-But I think there will be little trouble with
-the men, if I am allowed to approach them in
-the right way. Anyhow, I will try.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Do so,” was the reply. “Make them see
-that improved methods are for their interest as
-much as for ours. As to the wage-section—were
-their wages actually cut down?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Yes,” replied both men.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“That must not be allowed,” said Salome.
-“The mills were paying a handsome profit
-when this was done, weren’t they?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“They were,” said Villard. “Better than
-for a year before.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Give them their old pay, with the understanding
-that wages will be increased when
-work is heavier. I propose to myself a wild
-scheme of profit-sharing, or a sliding scale of
-wages, in the future.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_88'>88</span>“Good,” cried Villard. “The very thing
-I’ve been wanting to try. I believe in it
-heartily. But where did you get the idea of
-it?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Oh, I’ve been reading all the practical
-articles I could find on political economy, as
-applied to mills and factories, for some months,”
-Salome replied, “and I have evolved some queer
-theories, I fear; but I propose to give them a
-fair trial, unless you pronounce them too visionary.
-I am glad you approve of profit-sharing.
-And you, Mr. Burnham?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I approve of making the experiment,” said
-the more cautious superintendent. “I do not
-jump at conclusions. Nevertheless, the idea,
-though new, looks practicable, and I should
-like to see it tried.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“They have already tried it in one or two
-places where it is proving a great success, I
-believe,” said Salome. “You know the experiment
-was tried as long ago as 1831, when
-Mr. John S. Vandeleur put it into effect successfully
-in County Clare, Ireland. The Paris
-and Orleans Railway Company began to share
-profit with its employes in 1844, and the Maison
-Leclaire, I think, two years before, both of
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_89'>89</span>which have proved very successful. I do not
-see why we cannot adopt it.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“We can,” asserted Villard, confidently.
-“It is already being tried on a small scale by
-several firms in this country. Why should not
-we join the procession?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“What are you going to do about the demand
-for weekly wages?” asked Burnham.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“What objections are there?” Salome
-asked.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“It will entail extra expense for clerks and
-book-keepers,” responded Burnham. “That
-seems unnecessary.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“The men claim that they have to depend
-in great measure on the credit system at the
-stores,” explained Villard. “Their wages
-coming only once a month, they get short of
-money. If sickness or other additional expense
-comes upon them, they are often seriously
-inconvenienced by lack of their rightful wages.
-Again, if they are able to put a little money in
-the savings-bank, why should they not have the
-benefit of the interest that accrues through the
-month, rather than we? The money is theirs.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“On the other hand,” interrupted Burnham,
-“those men whose first duty, on being paid off,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_90'>90</span>seems to lie in getting gloriously drunk, would
-have the opportunity just four times as
-often.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“We have a work to do in that direction,”
-said Salome in a pained voice. “In a sense we
-are our brother’s keepers. I half believe that
-the solution of the temperance question is
-largely in the control of the employers of labor;
-and that the secondary, and often the primary,
-causes of intemperance are bad and unwholesome
-food, which create a craving for drink;
-bad company, which tempts it; squalid houses,
-which drive men forth for cheerfulness; and
-the want of more comfortable places of resort
-which leaves them no refuge but the saloons.
-It is in our power to remedy all these evils.
-Give them good sanitation, well-ventilated
-houses, comfortable homes, and reading-rooms,
-and coffee-parlors, and only the most depraved
-will be tempted by the low saloons.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“But, Miss Shepard, surely you do not propose
-all these things?” and Geoffrey Burnham
-looked his astonishment.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Why not?” was the terse reply.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Where will your profits come in? You
-cannot afford it.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_91'>91</span>Salome smiled. Her money was her own.
-Why should she not use it as she pleased?</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“No. For the first year or two I shall not
-pocket an immense profit; that is true,” she
-assented. “But I am not likely to come to
-want. And Newbern Shepard’s mills must
-be put on the basis where he desired, above all
-things, to see them during his lifetime. He
-planned a noble scheme. It is my birthright
-and my duty to carry it into effect. It will
-cost me something to get the mills where they
-must be; but it will pay in the end. Of that
-I feel sure.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“You are quite right,” said John Villard.
-“What may we not hope for when the condition
-of the working-people shall receive that
-concentrated attention which has hitherto been
-devoted to the more favored ranks? When
-charity, which has, for ages past, done so much
-mischief, shall learn to do good? When the
-countless pulpits of our country, which have
-always been so active in preaching Catholicism
-or Anglicism, Calvinism or Armenianism, and
-all other isms, shall preach pure and simple
-Christianity? When, by a healthy environment
-of the toiling masses, and the exercise of
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_92'>92</span>hygienic sense and science, mankind shall be
-healthy and free from questionable instincts and
-morbidly exaggerated appetites? I tell you,
-we cannot even approach an estimate of the
-extent to which every improvement, social,
-moral or material, reacts on the nation’s ethical
-and intellectual progress, and the prosperity of
-her industries.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“But you are taking us entirely away from
-the question in hand,” said Geoffrey Burnham,
-“which was, shall we grant the demand for
-weekly wages?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Not so far away as you seem to think,”
-retorted Villard. “The questions of sanitation
-and morality affect them, and us too, as
-well as the question of weekly wages. As
-for the latter, I am in favor of trying it
-on.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“So am I,” said Salome. “I am in favor
-of trying every new method until we can know
-positively which are the best ones.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“With modifications,” said Burnham, smiling
-at her vehemence. “I don’t exactly approve
-of the weekly system, but the majority
-are against me, and I may as well cast my vote
-with yours. Shall we send for their committee,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_93'>93</span>then, and offer them all concessions, except
-those relating to the spinning frames?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Yes, I should do so,” said Salome, “and
-prepare to open the mills at once, provided
-they decide to accept our terms.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“That is practically decided already,”
-laughed Burnham, “by our accepting theirs.
-Villard, you may negotiate with them about
-the frames. They are inclined to listen to you
-better than to me, for some reason.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“They know I’ve been in their place,” said
-Villard. “That makes all the difference in
-the world to them. They think I understand
-their side of the question; that is all.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Then you will confer with them immediately?”
-said Salome, rising to go. “And will
-you make all necessary preparations to open the
-mills? And then will you confer with me?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Most certainly, Miss Shepard.” Geoffrey
-Burnham spoke for both of them. “But—I
-beg your pardon, you have not spoken of a
-new agent. We must have one, you know.
-I trust you have made some wise selection?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I am prepared to surprise you,” Salome
-replied, buttoning her glove. “You two men
-will oblige me by transacting all necessary business
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_94'>94</span>for the present, in your positions of first
-and second superintendents, and by looking
-closely after the thousand details which I do
-not yet understand. Meanwhile, I shall come
-to the office every day and, with your co-operation
-and kind help, shall learn the business.
-I have too many schemes for the general
-improvement of the Shawsheen Mills and its
-operatives, to trust the mills in the hands of
-a stranger. I propose to be my own agent.
-Good-morning.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Salome Shepard never looked handsomer, or
-smiled more sweetly, than she did when she
-uttered the last sentence, and closed the door
-behind her, leaving her two completely astonished
-hearers standing in the middle of the
-office.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Whe-e-w!” ejaculated Geoffrey Burnham,
-after a little. “How does that strike you?
-The Shawsheen Mills run by a ‘female woman,’
-as A. Ward would put it! And, by George!
-we are expected to stay and work,—under a
-woman!”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>John Villard broke into a peal of laughter.
-“It’s awfully funny at first,” he said, calming
-down again. “But, after all, why not?
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_95'>95</span>She isn’t the empty-headed, aimless creature
-we thought her. She’s read and studied, and
-has some very sound notions.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“But, Villard—a woman-agent!” gasped
-Burnham. “We shall be the laughing-stock
-of the whole state.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Let them laugh,” answered Villard. “They
-laugh best who laugh last. And with her
-notions, her thirst for further knowledge, her
-enthusiasm, and, above all, her money, the
-Shawsheen Mills will be in a position at the
-end of a few years to do the laughing, while
-those who laugh at us now will set to studying
-our methods and come to us for advice.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“But she knows nothing of the practical
-part of mill-economy,” objected Burnham. “The
-mills will go to rack and ruin. Jove! Old
-Mr. Greenough would turn over in his grave
-if he could have heard her as she stopped
-in the door and said: ‘I propose to be my
-own agent.’ A woman!”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I know,” replied Villard, “that it will
-seem odd, and perhaps uncomfortably so, at first,
-to acknowledge her as head. But, after all,
-she does not propose to dictate as to the
-business itself.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_96'>96</span>“She will,” interrupted Burnham. “Women
-always do. She will jump at conclusions,
-mistake her inferences for logical deductions and
-the wisdom which comes only with experience,
-and, after the first month, will know more than
-we do. I know women. They are impulsive
-and illogical; and they can’t subvert nature and
-become good business men.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“No; but they may prove good business
-women,” was Villard’s answer. “We do not
-know, yet, what she can or what she will do.
-I believe she will be willing to leave the details
-of the business to us yet, for a long time. She
-is not a conceited woman; and although she
-has the faculty common to her sex of making
-some surprising jumps at conclusions, I do not
-believe her to be obstinate about them. She
-proposes to make a study of the business, and
-realizes that this is a work of years. And,
-besides, what will save the mills is this: she
-has an extended plan in manuscript of her
-grandfather’s scheme for making this an ideal
-institution. If she is willing to leave the
-business to us for the present, and is capable
-of adapting Newbern Shepard’s theories of
-years ago to the needs of to-day, we are all
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_97'>97</span>right, Jeff; and a new era is about to begin
-for the Shawsheen Mills.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I only hope we may like it,” assented
-Burnham doubtfully. “And now for the
-conference with the Labor Union.”</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_98'>98</span>
- <h2 class='c006'>IX.</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c007'>Marion Shaw was one of those women whose
-lives are a constant giving of their best, with
-no thought of return. We have all seen such
-women. From the self-sacrificing maiden aunt
-in the humblest home, up to the Florence
-Nightingales and Dorothea Dixes of the world,
-they are God’s angels, everywhere, to suffering
-humanity.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Marion Shaw and Salome Shepard had been
-in boarding-school together; and although the
-former had been left from the start to support
-herself and her widowed mother, the friendship
-between the two girls had never abated.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Marion’s mother had died a year before, and
-something material had dropped out of life
-for the girl. Grief and the solitude which
-ensued after her mother’s death told upon her
-constitution; and when Salome’s letter of invitation
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_99'>99</span>reached her, it was like a boon from
-Heaven. She threw up her situation in
-Madame Blanc’s private school and went to
-Shepardtown, arriving there late in the evening,
-before Salome’s visit to the counting-room.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>When the latter came home they settled cosily
-in Salome’s room for an “old-time talk,” such
-as they had enjoyed as girls.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Why didn’t you let me know you were
-tired to death with that interminable teaching?”
-asked Salome. “I should have had you
-come to me long ago. You are as pale as a
-ghost.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Oh, I’m all right now,” answered Marion,
-who never cared to talk of herself. “Tell me
-about the strike here. I read of it in a Boston
-newspaper, when it came on, and again when
-Mr. Greenough died. But, after the fashion
-of newspapers with regard to anything you
-care particularly to follow up, they dropped
-the subject the minute one’s interest was
-roused. And your letter was so meager! Yes,
-it was. You only write the barest details, and
-not too many of them. Is the strike ended?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“No, but I hope it will be before night,”
-Salome replied. “I’ve given orders this morning
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_100'>100</span>that a compromise be made at once. Yes,
-don’t stare at me, please. Why shouldn’t I
-give orders? They’re my mills.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I’m not staring. It’s vulgar to stare, and
-the lady professors at Mme. Blanc’s fashionable
-boarding-school do not stare. Why, it
-would be as much as their position is worth!”
-retorted Marion. “Yes, they’re your mills, I
-suppose, and a handsome piece of property
-they are too, in the eyes of poor me, who own
-only the clothes on my back. But, pardon
-me, dear, it does seem a little odd to hear
-Salome Shepard, the most exclusive and the
-most fashionable girl at school, talk about
-giving orders in a cotton-mill. You’re not
-getting strong-minded, are you, dear?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“If to begin to take an active interest in
-two thousand souls, who are dependent upon my
-money and the business interests it represents,
-is to become strong-minded, I’m afraid I shall
-have to plead guilty.” Salome looked narrowly
-at her friend. Possibly she had mistaken
-her, and their sympathies were farther apart
-than she had hoped.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Bless you!” responded Marion heartily,
-“I’m strong-minded myself; want to vote and
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_101'>101</span>all that. Don’t believe intemperance and lots
-of other evils will ever be subdued in this
-country, until women have something to say,
-and say it through the ballot-box. It is not
-so very dreadful when you once get on to that
-platform, is it?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Oh, I hadn’t thought of voting particularly,”
-Salome hastened to answer. “I don’t
-really think I want that. But I do want to do
-something for my people.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“And you’ll find,” retorted Marion, “before
-you’ve gone very far, that if you had the power
-of legislation, you could help them ten times
-as well.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Possibly,” Salome answered, doubtfully.
-“But, Marion, there are so many things
-absolutely necessary to be done for the Shawsheen
-operatives. If you could see them and the
-homes they live in, the temptations to which
-they are exposed, the poverty in which they
-live!”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“And you propose to go to work among
-them,—to reform them?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Yes, God helping me; them and the
-factory system together. Behold me,” said
-Salome, rising to her full height, and putting
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_102'>102</span>on a mock-tragic air: “Behold and see: Salome
-Shepard, Reformer. That’s my platform.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Salome, dear, what do you mean?” Mrs.
-Soule had just come in. “Don’t mind her,
-Marion, she delights in hearing herself talk
-like a suffrage leader, lately. I don’t approve
-of it, as she knows; but I can only wait for
-the mood to pass.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Which it never will, aunty dear,” Salome
-hastened to say. “So long as I live and am
-in a condition to work for the people who need
-substantial and material aid, as these people do,
-my life will be devoted to their service. I cannot
-go on living the aimless, indifferent life
-which has been mine ever since I left school.
-I must have some active interest, or I shall
-stagnate, or, worse still, settle into a cold, hard,
-selfish woman of the world. Unfortunately I
-was born with a heart; unfortunately for your
-ideal of the proper young lady of the period, I
-was born with a conscience, and this conscience
-tells me that my fortune was given me only in
-trust. It is not mine for selfish enjoyment
-alone; it is mine to make the world better and
-happier and purer.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“And you are going to work among those
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_103'>103</span>miserable drunken operatives,” said her aunt
-coldly, “whose sordid lives, and ungrateful
-hearts, the whole of them, are not worth the
-effort of even one month of your life, even if
-you were at all a capable woman of affairs, a
-woman of judgment and discretion, a woman
-of sound business sense,—which you are not.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Yes, ‘among the drunken miserable operatives,’”
-replied Salome, ignoring the latter part
-of her aunt’s speech. “Among those sordid
-lives and ungrateful hearts, that were worth
-the Christ’s dying, and for whom He worked,
-living.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“You don’t think of joining the Salvation
-Army, I hope?” exclaimed her aunt, quite
-beside herself at this new development of her
-niece’s purposes.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Salome laughed.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I shall hardly have the time, aunty. I’ve
-accepted a position at the Shawsheen Mills.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“A position?” gasped Mrs. Soule. “Oh,
-Salome! Who offered you—who <em>dared</em> offer
-you a <em>position</em>?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“The fair owner of the mills offered it,”
-answered Salome, enjoying the situation to
-its fullest extent. “And I accepted, aunty.
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_104'>104</span>Marion, in me you see the agent of the Shawsheen
-Mills!”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Marion Shaw rose and clasped her friend
-closely to her bosom. She admired her splendid
-courage and avowed principles, and honored
-this woman, with money and leisure at her
-command, who was willing and anxious to devote
-her life to service for others. But not so
-Mrs. Soule.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>She applied a delicate mull and lace handkerchief
-to her eyes, and wept to think to what
-an end had come her years of training; her
-careful watch, that Salome should never, by any
-chance, come in contact with a lower world;
-her life-long aim to make of Salome the perfect
-being prescribed by her somewhat limited and
-narrowed rules of ladyhood.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>She begged; she pleaded; she argued; she
-threatened; she resorted to ridicule; but
-Salome stood firm, and now laughingly and
-then earnestly defended the course she had
-taken.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“It’s of no use, aunty, as you see, for us to
-argue the case. I do not forget all your kindness
-and love for me; but I must choose for
-myself,” she said, finally. “I am old enough
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_105'>105</span>to decide questions of right and wrong. Hereafter
-we will not argue any more. I must do
-this; you must submit; and that is all there
-is about it. Now, let’s make up and be friends,”
-and she bent down and kissed her aunt on both
-cheeks, as she used to do when she was a little
-girl.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“You, a child of Cora de Bourdillon’s!”
-murmured her aunt, softening a little.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Cora de Bourdillon was my mother,” said
-Salome. “But before and above all else, Newbern
-Shepard was my grandfather. I am like
-him. I must be like him. And you must
-submit to the laws of heredity.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>So there was never any more prolonged discussion
-between them. Salome’s nature being
-so much the stronger, kind-hearted, weak Mrs.
-Soule could not oppose her further. But many
-times, in after years, was she heard to deplore
-the fact that Cora de Bourdillon’s child was
-so thorough-going an epitome of Newbern
-Shepard.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“A good man,” she would say. “A perfectly
-honest and well-meaning man; but not
-like Us!”</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_106'>106</span>
- <h2 class='c006'>X.</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c007'>Early that evening Geoffrey Burnham and
-John Villard were announced. Mrs. Soule and
-Salome were alone in the parlors when they
-came in, but Marion was sent for.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“And you’ve brought good news?” asked
-Salome. “They’ve consented to go to work
-again?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Of course,” Burnham replied. “They
-were only too glad to meet us on any sort of
-terms.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Wait till my friend comes down,” said
-Salome. “She is interested, and will want to
-hear the details. Oh, here she is. Miss Shaw,
-allow me to present my two confrères (and
-teachers as well), Mr. Burnham and Mr. Villard.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“And so it is really settled?” Salome asked,
-“and the mills are to be opened again?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_107'>107</span>“Monday morning, if you like,” replied Burnham,
-“or earlier. But to-day is Wednesday,
-and there are many things to be done where
-the mills have stood idle for months.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I’m so glad,” returned Salome.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“There is hearty rejoicing throughout the
-corporation,” said Villard. “I was coming
-through there to-night and met a couple of little
-boys with bundles of groceries in their arms.
-The smallest looked up and smiled. ‘We’re
-going to have a good supper of meat and potato
-to-night,’ he said. ‘The mills are going to
-open and pa’s got work.’ I asked him how
-long since he had had meat, and he said not
-since Christmas; and even then he only had
-a turkey’s wing that somebody gave him.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Poor boy! Tell me about your conference
-with the Labor Union.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“It passed off smoothly,” Villard went on.
-“Burnham told him we came from you, and
-were prepared to make terms with them. We
-only saw the committee you know, and they
-are to lay our terms before the Union to-night;
-but there is no doubt that they will accept.
-They are really very sensible and shrewd,
-those fellows on the committee, eh, Burnham?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_108'>108</span>“Remarkably,” replied the first superintendent.
-“I didn’t know we had such intelligent
-men.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“But it is our business to know it,” Villard
-returned, and Salome nodded her head. “We
-laid our plans before them, and told them
-that we would concede all their wishes, except
-about the machinery of course. And one of
-their own number spoke up promptly and said
-it was hot-headed bigotry on their part that
-had made them stick for the removal of the
-frames. And that most of them, even the
-Lancaster spinners, had come to see that every
-improvement to the mills meant an improvement
-of their condition. Then the secretary
-wanted to know if they were to be allowed to
-exist as a Union. Burnham told them that you
-were taking a great interest in the management
-of the mills; and that we all believe that no
-harm can come of their organizing themselves
-into an association, provided they were
-willing to be reasonable, and to confer with us
-before taking extreme measures again. He
-begged them to believe that you are their
-friend, and want them all to have a fair chance.
-And he ended by assuring them that we, as
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_109'>109</span>superintendents, fully concurred with you; and
-that he hoped they would be willing to start on
-a new basis, and to consider our interests as
-they expect and desire us to remember theirs.
-Burnham did himself proud, Miss Shepard, and
-I could see they were a good deal affected by
-his conduct.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I am covered with blushes,” declared
-Burnham. “Spare my modesty.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Blushing must be a novel sensation to
-you,” retorted Villard. “The leaders shook
-hands with us when we came away and
-thanked us for what we had said, assuring
-us that they would be ready to enter the
-mills again at once. And a different spirit
-is evident to-night, all through the corporation.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Don’t be too sanguine,” interrupted Burnham.
-“We’re not through the woods yet.
-And there are several ends to be achieved
-before the millennium dawns.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I should like,” said Salome, “if it will
-not bore you too much, to outline the general
-plan I have formed for raising the condition of
-things at the mills.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Nothing would give us greater pleasure
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_110'>110</span>than such a proof of your confidence,” replied
-Burnham.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“And we can assure you beforehand,” said
-Villard, “of our hearty co-operation.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>No one but Salome noticed that her aunt
-had quietly slipped away when she spoke of
-her plan. Mrs. Soule did not care to hear
-Salome “talk shop.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“In the first place,” Salome began, “are
-the mills all they should be? Are they well
-lighted, aired and drained? Is the machinery
-such as to benefit both the operators and the
-business interests of the mills?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“No, they are not quite up to modern
-standards,” Villard replied, promptly.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I don’t know,” pursued Burnham, “but
-they are quite as good as the average. There
-are many worse mills than the Shawsheen.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“That isn’t the point,” Salome replied.
-“Are there any better? Or are they capable
-of improvement?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Well, yes, if you don’t consider expense,”
-assented Burnham.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Are they well-lighted? Are their sanitary
-conditions good?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“They are very well-lighted indeed,” said
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_111'>111</span>Villard; “your grandfather built much in
-advance of his time, and the mills are all light
-and strong. But they need better ventilation
-in cold weather; and, as you know, sanitary
-science in Newbern Shepard’s day was hardly
-up to modern demands.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I propose putting in the best drainage
-system we can find. I propose bath-rooms,
-wash-rooms and elevators.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Good!” said both her superintendents.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“As for machinery, you will know what is
-needed there. We want the latest improved
-methods of doing our work. It will not do
-for us to be behind the times, or the world
-will laugh at our philanthropic efforts. The
-standard of the mills must be as high now as
-it was in my grandfather’s day. Nothing but
-the best of goods, made after the most approved
-modern methods, must go out from us.
-Otherwise the world will say we are visionary
-and lack good business sense.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“That is true,” assented Burnham. “The
-business must not suffer.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“At the same time, I want the mills made so
-pleasant and comfortable that our operatives
-will prefer them to any other, knowing that
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_112'>112</span>we propose to consult their interests and happiness
-in little things, as we desire that they
-shall consult ours in great. Then their homes.
-Those old rickety tenement houses must be
-abolished from the face of the earth.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Hear, hear,” cried Villard, “they have
-long been an eyesore to me.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“They are a disgrace to us,” was Salome’s
-emphatic answer.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“But you can’t do that all at once,” said
-Burnham. “That is something that will take
-time.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“It is April now,” said Salome. “I propose
-to begin at once on new houses for the
-operatives. They will have to stay where they
-are for the summer, but by cold weather I
-mean that every one of them shall be in new
-quarters.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Whew!” said Burnham; “you <em>are</em> a
-woman of business, Miss Shepard. But you
-will have your hands full this year to build
-new houses for two thousand people.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“It can be done though,” Villard replied.
-“There are plenty of carpenters and builders
-to be had. What kind of tenements do you
-propose?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_113'>113</span>“I have not fully decided. At first I
-thought of having single cottages for every
-family, with a tiny plot of land for each. But
-sometimes I wonder if some of the plans for
-model tenement houses would not be more
-feasible. What do you think?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“There are advantages in both,” said Burnham.
-“It is doubtful if many of the operatives
-would appreciate a whole house, or take
-good care of one. On the other hand, the best
-tenement house system in the world has its
-drawbacks.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“In a country-place where there is room
-enough, as there is here,” advised Villard, “it
-seems to me that the single cottage system is
-the better. Each family can then have a
-certain privacy, impossible to the tenement
-house system. They can soon be educated up
-to caring for their places, and, I think, will
-soon come to take pride in them. They may
-not pay, at first; but they will serve a higher
-purpose. I have thought it would be a fine
-thing,—in the Utopia of which I have often
-dreamed,—if, connected with such a factory as
-this, could be built some substantial, inexpensive
-cottages which could be sold to the working-men
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_114'>114</span>with families, on very easy terms.
-Let them occupy them as tenants, for instance,
-until their rentals amount to a certain sum—say
-two hundred dollars,—unless they have
-been fortunate enough to have saved that
-amount, which they can pay down, and then
-let them take a deed of the place and give us
-a mortgage. Pardon me, Miss Shepard, I am
-only supposing a case.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“And quite a supposable one,” said Salome,
-her eyes glowing. “Why can’t it be done?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Doubtful if any of them would burden
-themselves with a debt like that,” demurred
-Burnham.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I think they would,” Villard responded.
-“The desire for a home of one’s own is an instinct
-which is implanted in every human breast.
-If the steadier, more sensible men of the mills
-could be induced to try it, it would soon become
-the ambition of all the younger ones to
-own their homes. I am sure the overseers, at
-least, would like to try it. So many of our
-operatives live in a hand-to-mouth fashion,
-never saving anything. Let them see that
-what they pay for rent will be credited
-to them; that they are actually saving that
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_115'>115</span>money, and they will, for the most part, gladly
-fall in with the scheme. And when a man
-begins to save up money, and to feel that he is
-worth something, his self-respect increases and
-ambition makes a man of him. I tell you, I
-believe the thing could be done here, and the
-condition of our working-men be vastly improved
-by it.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“We will, at least, make the experiment,”
-said Salome earnestly. “At first a wild dream
-came to me of building model tenement houses
-and practically giving them the rent. But I
-soon came to see that it would be better for
-them to pay what they could afford for improved
-conditions.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“That would be far wiser,” said Villard.
-“To make them objects of charity would be to
-lower their condition in the long run.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Then I have a plan for the girls,” Salome
-went on. “So many of them live in those
-dreadful boardinghouses. I’ve been into one,
-and I wonder how any girl can keep her self-respect
-and live there. I am going to build a
-large building, which shall have plenty of light,
-airy bedrooms, prettily and inexpensively furnished;
-so that a girl may feel that she has a
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_116'>116</span>cosy little spot somewhere on earth of her very
-own. I am going to have model bath-rooms
-and a large, cheerful dining-room. There will
-be a matron to the establishment who will be
-like a mother to the girls; not one who will
-care nothing whether her girls are sober and
-respectable, or miserable and besotted, so
-long as they pay. This woman will win the
-confidence of the girls, and lead them into
-habits of personal cleanliness and common
-sense; she will take an interest in their little
-personal affairs, and advise them kindly and
-judiciously. In short, she will make a home
-for them in the truest sense of the word.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“You will have to have her made to order,
-Salome,” interrupted Marion from the sofa where
-she had been an interested listener. “Such
-paragons do not exist.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“And would scarcely be appreciated by the
-average factory girl if they did,” added Burnham,
-smiling at Marion.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I shall have a large and pleasant parlor
-with a piano and a comfortable reading-room,”
-Salome continued, as though not hearing; “I
-don’t suppose the girls, judging from what I
-hear and see of them, will care much for reading
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_117'>117</span>at first; but if I put plenty of light, healthful
-literature in their way, with illustrated books
-and good pictures on the walls, they will
-gradually come to like them. And then, there
-must be weekly entertainments, and perhaps a
-hall.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“And what about the young men?” inquired
-Villard. “Are you going to leave our sex out
-in the cold?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Yes, if you educate the girls so much above
-them, what are the young fellows to do?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“They shall have such a boarding-house
-too,” said Salome, “only we’ll call them
-Unions. I hate the name boarding-house,
-and I should think they would; and then, by
-and by, there are still other schemes in my mind.
-There are children, plenty of them, on the
-corporation. They are poor, sickly, unkempt,
-uncared-for. All this must be changed.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“That will come, I think,” said Burnham,
-“with their improved conditions and surroundings.
-It is unhealthful where they now are.
-Shall you build the new houses there?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Oh, no, I forgot to say,” answered Salome,
-“that we must put up their new quarters on
-the hill, the other side of the mills. It is much
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_118'>118</span>pleasanter up there, and a far more healthful
-locality. Work on them can begin right away.
-Will you find me the proper man to undertake
-the building of the houses, Mr. Villard?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>John Villard’s heart fairly burned with enthusiasm.
-This was a project he had long
-cherished, although he had been entirely
-without means or prospect of ever being able
-to carry it out.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“You may be sure I will do my best,” he
-answered.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“And we will reserve the power of directing
-and planning the buildings ourselves,” she added.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I’m glad you’re going to do something for
-the children,” said Marion. “If you don’t
-succeed in improving things in this generation
-much, you will in the next, if you educate the
-children.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“That is what I propose to do,” said Salome.
-“They must have better schools than they ever
-had.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“And be compelled to attend them,” interposed
-Burnham.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Oh, there are so many things to be done. It
-will take years to get everything in working
-order.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_119'>119</span>“You have laid out a beautiful scheme, Miss
-Shepard,” remarked Geoffrey Burnham, “and
-in most respects a practical one. But you
-must not be too sanguine. These people are
-ignorant,—fairly steeped in ignorance. They
-are jealous, too, and doubtless will mistrust
-your motives, and believe you have some selfish
-reason behind all your endeavor.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I have,” laughed Salome. “I want my
-mills to be models, and my people to be the
-best, most skilled, most intelligent, and most
-progressive community in America.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Bravo!” said Villard. “So do I.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I am not so sanguine as you may think,”
-Salome went on. “I know they are ignorant.
-How should they be anything else? All their
-lives they’ve been used as we use the machines
-in the factory,—to make good cloth, and plenty
-of money. Nobody has thought of their welfare,
-or cared what they did, or thought, or
-became, when working-hours were over. How
-do we know what sort of men they are, or what
-capabilities they possess? I read somewhere,
-only the other day, that there may still be
-Fichtes tending geese, and Robert Burns’ toiling
-on the farm; that there may be, yet, successors
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_120'>120</span>of William Dean Howells at the type-forms, of
-T. B. Aldrich at the book-keeper’s desk, of
-Mark Twain at the pilot-wheel. We have no
-right to keep them back. But this writer went
-on to say, that the world has less need of them,
-even, than of those who cannot aspire to thrive
-outside the shop, and who go to their daily toil
-knowing that their highest hope must be not
-to get ‘out of a job’ and not to have their
-wages cut. I don’t suppose they will, at once,
-appreciate our efforts to better their condition.
-Possibly they will oppose us at first; but we
-can have no better task to perform than to
-make them prosperous, contented and joyous
-in their work. And by making a man of the
-operative, I fully believe we shall bring material
-prosperity to the mills.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“But the expense,” urged Burnham. “Have
-you calculated that? I doubt if the mills could
-stand so heavy a burden all at once.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I have calculated the expense,” Salome
-answered him. “And what cannot be done from
-the yearly profits of the mills, I will do myself.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“We shall be eagerly watched by the whole
-manufacturing world,” said Burnham.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“So much the better,” added Villard. “It
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_121'>121</span>is time somebody set the example. If we
-succeed in carrying out all these plans, and keep
-the mills on a paying basis as well, it will be
-the beginning of a mighty reform in the working-man’s
-world. I believe we can succeed.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“You will be called quixotic and all sorts of
-pleasant things, Salome,” said her friend Marion.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“The beginner in any reform is always
-called a crank, if nothing worse,” replied
-Salome. “If I chose to build a million-dollar
-castle to live in myself; if I preferred to dress
-in cloth of gold and silver; if I insisted upon
-eating off solid gold dishes; or even if I were
-to endow a church or a female college, the
-world would admire and praise me, and say
-these things are a rich woman’s prerogative.
-If I choose instead to spend my fortune on the
-Shawsheen Mills, and elevate by its judicious
-expenditure two thousand operatives for whom
-I ought to feel morally and socially responsible,
-the world will probably wonder and call me
-quixotic. Christ Himself was called a fanatic.
-Most people to-day, if they voiced their real
-sentiments, would wonder that He could be so
-democratic as to die for the whole world, ignorant,
-uncultivated, detestable sinners, and all.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_122'>122</span>One of those silences fell upon the room,
-that always follows the mention of Christ’s
-name in a conversation not strictly “religious”
-in character. Marion was admiring the courage
-of her friend; Burnham was rather taken
-aback at this fearless reference to a Being
-whom he seldom heard mentioned outside the
-churches; and Villard was surprised and delighted
-with this unworldly woman of the world,
-and her avowal of principles and hopes and
-wishes which he had cherished for years. He
-was the first to speak.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“You must have done some hard thinking,—and
-a good deal of reading, in the past six
-months.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Yes,” answered Salome. “I have. I have
-read everything I could think or hear of, on
-subjects bearing on this case; and I have lain
-awake many a night, since it was really borne in
-upon me that I have something to do here, planning
-my work. But the greater part of the
-credit, if there is any, in my plans, lies with my
-grandfather. He thought out many of these
-things, years ago; I have simply adapted his
-theories to our modern times and conditions.”</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_123'>123</span>
- <h2 class='c006'>XI.</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c007'>And so the great strike ended.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Had Salome realized the burden of care
-which she was taking upon herself, it is doubtful
-whether she would have assumed it as
-cheerfully as she did. But as weeks rolled
-into months, and responsibilities multiplied
-and cares increased until she became as hard a
-worker as any in the mills, she did not flinch.
-She had put her hand to the plough, and it
-did not once occur to her to turn back.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>She went to the office of the mills the day
-they were opened, and began to study, thoroughly,
-the details of the business. Villard and
-Burnham were her teachers, and both were
-often astonished at her business keenness and
-cool judgment. She had pressed Marion into
-service immediately, and always took her to
-the counting-room, where the two staid
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_124'>124</span>throughout the entire morning, going home to
-lunch at two, and usually remaining there the
-rest of the day. But always, whether she was
-in the house, or out driving, or overseeing the
-new houses, which were progressing rapidly,
-Salome’s one thought was the improvement of
-conditions at the Shawsheen Mills.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>When Marion had been with her a week,
-Salome said to her:</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Marion, I want you to stay with me all the
-time.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I should be so glad,” replied her friend,
-“but I can’t afford it. I shall have to go out
-into the world again, before long, to earn my
-living, dear; but I will stay here as long as I
-can.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“You good girl!” was Salome’s answer.
-“Why not stay here and earn your living?
-I want a companion, shall very soon need a
-secretary, and as soon as I get things in running
-order, ought to have a woman like you
-to help draw in my people. You need a congenial
-place at a comfortable salary. Now,
-why not stay? I will pay you a thousand
-dollars a year.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Marion drew a breath of astonishment.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_125'>125</span>“It isn’t worth that,” she said; “Madame
-Blanc only paid me seven hundred.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Madame Blanc is not fixing a scale of
-wages for me,” said Salome; “as to your
-‘worth,’ my dear, I must judge of that. When
-we get fairly at work, I shall give you enough
-to do, and you will find yourself a very busy
-woman. Besides, if I had a young man to do
-what I want you to do for me, he would ask a
-thousand dollars, wouldn’t he? And why
-shouldn’t you have it? Because you are a
-woman?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Marion was not demonstrative. On the contrary,
-she had a great deal of the true New
-England reserve; but she got up and went over
-to her friend, put both arms around her neck
-and then——cried.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“If you could know what a chance this is
-for me!” she said at last. “If you had known
-what a dreary thing existence had become, and
-what a hopeless prospect I had in the future!
-And now, to live here and work with you,—in
-your grand scheme,—Oh, Salome!” And she
-wept again.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Then I will put the care of the cottages
-into your hands first of all,” said Salome, patting
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_126'>126</span>her cheek. “You’ve kept house and know
-what one ought to be like for an ordinary
-family,—what things are necessary for the
-comfort of the household and convenience of
-the housewife. I don’t. I should be as apt
-to build expensive music-rooms and leave
-out the pantries, as any way. Go ahead, and
-get up as nice houses as you can, at $1,500,
-$2,000 and $2,500 a piece. Mr. Villard
-thinks none of the employes will care to buy
-anything more expensive. Here is the architect’s
-address,” and she handed Marion a card.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>But the building of the model boarding-house
-was a project too dear to Salome’s heart
-for her to easily relinquish to others. Her
-plan, as she had presented it to Villard and
-Burnham, grew and magnified itself until her
-co-laborers had to resort to all sorts of arguments
-to keep her from wild extravagance.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>She had begun by planning for the factory girls
-a house which should be really a home;
-but as she went about among the operatives,
-and began to get an inkling of what the young
-men of the mills really were, of the bare, desolate
-dens which gave them shelter, she did
-not wonder that they resorted to the streets for
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_127'>127</span>comfort and amusement. She began to see how
-the young men and girls who entered the mills
-could scarcely help drifting into low and unworthy
-lives; and she grew more determined
-to do something to raise them to a higher
-plane of living.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Her grandfather’s manuscripts did not help
-her much here. In Newbern Shepard’s day,
-the factory-hand had not sunk to such ignorance
-or even degradation, as he has, in some
-instances, in later times; and in those more
-democratic times, it had not been so hard for
-him to rise above the level of his kind. In
-that day, too, it had been possible for him to
-find a home, in the true sense of the word,
-with families of a certain degree of refinement.
-But in Salome’s more modern times, she saw,
-and grieved, that the factory boarding-places
-were of the sort that dragged the operatives
-down and kept them on a lower plane, even,
-than the Shawsheen tenement system.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>She consulted much with the superintendents
-and with Marion. She visited the large
-cities and thoroughly examined the young
-men’s and young women’s various houses and
-unions. She got ideas from all, but a perfected
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_128'>128</span>plan from none. Finally, she collaborated
-with her architect, Robert Fales, and soon had
-her model boarding-house on paper. After
-that it was only a work of days to begin on
-the foundations of the institution.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The operatives at the Shawsheen Mills gazed
-on all these changes with curious interest,
-which, however, they carefully suppressed when
-any of their superiors were about. The average
-independent American citizen, as he exists
-among working-men, does not care to pose as
-an object of even partial charity. He delights
-in crying out against Capital, and clamoring for
-a share of the Profits; but when it comes to
-actual taking of what he does not feel he has
-earned, he is more backward.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The Shawsheen operatives, in spite of the
-promises which had been made, had gone to
-work again with little hope that the state of
-affairs for them would be any better in future
-than in the past. As days went by, and they
-saw Salome Shepard come to the mills every
-morning, and knew that she was personally interested
-in them as her people, they were skeptical
-of any results for good. And when they began
-to hear it whispered that she, a woman, was
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_129'>129</span>the actual head of the Shawsheen Mills, some
-of them talked earnestly of leaving. What!
-they—strong, able-bodied, skilled mechanics—work
-under a woman?</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>But they didn’t go. A dull season was upon
-them, and work scarce. Other mills were shutting
-down and sending their operatives into
-two months of enforced idleness. The Shawsheen
-hands were forced to stay where they
-were and be thankful for a chance to work.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Then, as the story that they were to be
-furnished with new and better homes gained
-credence among them, their first real interest
-dawned. Many did not believe their conditions
-would be bettered; many, even, did not
-care; and most of them grumbled because
-their rents would probably be high, and said
-the new buildings were only a means to grind
-the poor and extort more money from them, to
-put into a rich woman’s pocket. Such is the
-thankless task of the philanthropist.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Salome heard something of this, but did not
-allow the knowledge to disquiet her.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“A few months will convince them,” she
-said, quietly. “No wonder they are on the
-lookout for oppression and extortion. As near
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_130'>130</span>as I can judge, this factory has long been run
-on a plan to warrant them in such a belief.”
-And this was all she ever said against Otis
-Greenough’s method of administering affairs
-at the mills.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>As the summer went by, Salome’s friends in
-the town began to wonder at her extravagant
-outlay, as they called it. They prophesied that
-she would soon tire of her new amusement, and
-leave the houses unfinished, when her projects
-would fall flat. Some of them came to her and
-remonstrated, on the ground that her inexperience
-in financial affairs was cause enough for
-her leaving the Shawsheen Mills and the
-employes as they had been. But invariably
-she replied, that if she had chosen to build
-herself a million-dollar castle, they would have
-approved of her; but because she proposed
-to spend a half-million on the mill property,
-all of which she felt sure would return to her
-some day with interest, she was called extravagant
-and foolish.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“But if you had built the million-dollar
-house,” said Mrs. Greenough, “it would have
-been a great thing for the place. Think what
-an ornament to Shepardtown it would be!”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_131'>131</span>“And think what an improvement—what a
-great thing for Shepardtown—it will be to
-tear away those miserable, tumble-down tenements
-on Shawsheen alley, and to add a hundred
-neat and cosy houses to the hill,” she
-retorted. “And, besides, you haven’t seen my—well,
-my Institution (I haven’t named it
-yet). Think what an ornament that will be
-to the place.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>But as nobody realized what the “Institution”
-of her dreams was to be, Salome got no
-sympathy from her friends. Curiosity increased
-on all hands, as the summer waned and an
-immense brick structure grew apace on the hill.
-It had a square, dome-like center, with huge
-wings on each side. But the workmen were
-sworn to secrecy, and nobody was allowed to go
-inside from the time the building was far
-enough advanced to allow of its entrances being
-fastened up.</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_132'>132</span>
- <h2 class='c006'>XII.</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c007'>It was finished at last. The plasterers and
-painters and plumbers had done their last
-stroke of work and departed, leaving the keys
-with Salome, as she had requested. On the
-same afternoon, she sent for Robert Fales, and
-together they showed Burnham and Villard,
-with Marion Shaw and Mrs. Soule—who was
-as anxious as any of them to see the place,
-although she would not own it—over the new
-building.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>A broad flight of stone steps led up to the
-main entrance. The wooden framework, which
-had concealed the façade, had been taken down,
-and there, over the massive doorway, was the
-name of Salome’s “Institution,” carved in red
-sandstone—“<span class='sc'>Newbern Shepard Hall</span>.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Why not simply Shepard Hall?” said
-Burnham, as they stood looking up at it.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_133'>133</span>“Or Salome Shepard Hall?” put in Mrs.
-Soule’s voice, for she felt that it would be like
-the rest of her niece’s folly to have her name
-carved in stone up there.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Auntie!” exclaimed Salome reprovingly;
-then, turning to Geoffrey Burnham—“Shepard
-Hall might have meant me, or it might have
-meant my father, or the whole race of us in
-general. This building is a memorial to Newbern
-Shepard, not to his family. How do you
-like the design of the façade?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The building was of red brick, with massive
-trimmings of red sandstone, and was substantial
-and useful in general appearance, rather
-than ornate.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Ten times as expensive as you needed,”
-was her aunt’s comment.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Yes,” answered Burnham, to whom the remark
-was directed. “A cheap, wooden building
-would have answered the purpose, I should say.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Perhaps,” laughed Salome; “but I am not
-putting up wooden monuments to my grandfather’s
-memory. Besides, you don’t know my
-purpose, yet.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Something quixotic and unnecessary, I’m
-afraid, my dear,” answered Mrs. Soule.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_134'>134</span>Salome did not answer but led the way up
-the stairway, and unlocked the heavy doors
-These opened into a vestibule leading into a
-large room fitted up with bookcases and
-tables.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“This is the library,” said she. “Now, see
-the two reading-rooms, one on each side. One
-is for the girls, and one for the young men.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>They passed out into the one designed for
-the girls,—a pleasant airy room with plenty of
-light and space. The walls were tinted and
-the woodwork was in the natural finish. Nothing
-in the way of furnishing had, of course,
-been done. Beyond the reading-room was another
-large class-room, and opening from it
-were several smaller ones. These all occupied
-one wing of the new building.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“What do you propose to have done with
-all these rooms?” asked some one.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Salome looked over to John Villard and
-smiled.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I’ve read and studied ‘All Sorts and Conditions
-of Men’ to some purpose,” she said;
-“I propose, as time goes on, to have various
-practical and useful things taught the girls
-here. Dressmaking for instance, and millinery
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_135'>135</span>and domestic science. The conveniences for
-that, though, are in the basement.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>She led the way by a flight of stairs that led
-from a side-entrance, at the end of the wing, to
-the basement. There was a spacious hall with
-rows of hooks to hang garments on. From
-this, opened a large and pleasant dining-room.
-Under the main portion of the building was a
-great kitchen with ranges and all the modern
-appliances of a hotel kitchen, though on a
-smaller scale.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Isn’t this rather elaborate for a factory
-boarding-house?” asked Burnham; “for, I
-take it, that is one of your objects, at least, if
-not the primary one.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I approve of this,” said Mrs. Soule judicially.
-“It’s poor policy to fit out a kitchen
-with cheap stuff. Give servants the best of
-everything to do with, and teach them how to
-take care of them.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Miss Shepard has gone over the subject
-very carefully,” said Mr. Fales, “and, I must
-say, has shown most excellent judgment in
-everything. As you say, madam, it’s only
-money wasted to put cheap stuff into a building
-like this.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_136'>136</span>“Now, look through the pantries and larder
-and laundry,” Salome interrupted; “I think,
-for a woman who knows absolutely nothing of
-the details of housekeeping, I’ve excelled myself.”
-She spoke boastfully and shook her head
-at Marion, at the close of her speech.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“How much of it did Miss Shaw plan?”
-slyly asked Geoffrey Burnham.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Every bit of it, below the main floor,”
-responded Salome. “Since you seem incapable
-of believing that I did it, I may as well
-own that Marion and Mr. Fales planned the
-whole of the basement, and that I, in my ignorance,
-could only look on and admire. But
-they did so well that now I am inclined to take
-all the glory to myself.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>They passed through the basement, coming
-up at the other end of the building, and found
-themselves in the young men’s wing. Here,
-besides the reading-rooms and class-room,
-was another fitted with two or three workbenches.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I propose to give them a chance to take
-an industrial education,” said Salome, “if they
-should want it.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I declare!” ejaculated Mrs. Soule. “To
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_137'>137</span>give skilled mechanics a chance to take lessons
-at the work-bench! You are out of your mind,
-child.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I didn’t plan it for skilled mechanics,
-auntie,” said Salome gently, “although they
-may come if they want to. But you know,
-or ought to, that the majority of our men can
-only perform one kind of work. They may be
-nearly perfect in their special branch, but are
-almost helpless when it comes to handling the
-hammer and saw and chisel. If they learn the
-proper use of these things, it will not only increase
-their knowledge in that direction, it will
-broaden them in other ways.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I don’t see how,” persisted her aunt.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Besides,” put in John Villard, “if it does
-no other good, if the experiment keeps a few
-of our fellows off the street at night and
-develops a new taste, it will be worth while.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Well, perhaps you are right,” said Mrs.
-Soule, “but no such philosophy or philanthropy
-was taught in my day.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“‘The world do move,’ auntie,” laughed
-Salome. “Now, shall we go upstairs?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>A broad flight of steps from the hallway at
-the end of the wing led up to the second floor,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_138'>138</span>which was just like the one on the girls’ wing.
-Upstairs, the broad corridor ran through the
-middle of the wing, with bedrooms opening
-from either side. In the main body of the
-building, under the dome, was a large hall,
-fitted up with movable seats, and having a
-raised platform at the front.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“This is the pride of my heart,” Salome
-announced, as she ushered her friends into it.
-“If any one dares to criticise it, woe be unto
-him! Mr. Burnham, what fault can you find
-with this?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>They all laughed at her inconsistency.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I should not dare make it known, if I had
-any,” he said. “But may I ask what it is
-for?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Why, to hold meetings in, and lectures and
-things,” she answered, quickly; “what did you
-suppose?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Oh! And for the Labor Unions to congregate
-in and plan how they may overthrow
-and destroy you, I suppose,” scoffed Burnham.
-“And it is a capital place to breed the
-next strike.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“There will be no ‘next strike,’” was the
-confident answer. “And as for the rest, wait
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_139'>139</span>and see. I had the seats all movable because
-once in a while there will be a party, and they
-will want the floor for dancing.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Salome! Not dancing?” cried her aunt.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Why not? The floor is an excellent
-one for dancing. I saw to that myself,”
-said she, purposely misunderstanding her relative.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“You are not going to let them have their
-low dances here?” Mrs. Soule’s tone showed
-how much the idea horrified her.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Low dances? Certainly not,” said her
-niece. “But we are going to show them how
-to have something better. We are going to
-lift them above wanting a low entertainment of
-any kind, and teach them how such things
-are carried on by better people,—by us, for
-example.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Salome, you don’t mean me to understand
-that you are going to come and dance here,
-yourself?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Perhaps, though I had not thought of it.
-But why not?” continued the perverse niece.
-“Mr. Villard, will you lead the first figure with
-me, on our opening night?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“With the greatest pleasure in the world,”
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_140'>140</span>said he, with a thrill at his heart which he did
-not recognize.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Mrs. Soule sat down on a convenient window-seat.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“What would your father say?” she murmured.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I never knew my father well enough to
-judge.” Salome answered, with a slight tinge
-of bitterness in her tone. “But I know what
-my grandfather would say. I am going to put
-a piano in here,—or would you have an organ?—and
-I intend that this hall shall be the rallying
-place of the young people. I’m also going
-to give a course of entertainments here during
-the winter, twice a week; I’m not going to begin
-with lectures and heavy ‘intellectual treats;’
-but I will gradually lead up to them with concerts
-and even a minstrel show or two.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Salome,” gasped her aunt feebly from the
-window-sill.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“You see, if we begin by shooting over their
-heads, they won’t come at all,” said Salome.
-“But if we begin with something light and
-amusing, and not too far above their level, and
-gradually raise the tone of the entertainments,
-they’ll find themselves attending lectures and
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_141'>141</span>other sugar-coated forms of intellectual betterment,
-and like them; and never mistrust that I
-am working out a mission on their unsuspecting
-heads.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I’m glad you realize something of their
-present intellectual condition,” said John Villard,
-who had been unusually silent and grave
-while looking over the new building; “and
-realize that it’s only gradually that we can
-bring them, as a class, up to a higher grade as
-intelligent young people.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Oh, I do,” said Salome, “I’ve seen too much
-of them, myself, this summer. At first, I was
-appalled by the absolute lack of common knowledge
-among the average girls. But there are
-a few, I know, who have already improved the
-slight advantages they’ve had; and these few
-I shall rely on to help me by their influence in
-raising the rest; the ‘little leaven,’ you know.
-It seems to me, that only by raising the intellectual
-condition, and the educational aspiration,
-can we hope to accomplish anything of
-permanent value to the mills.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“That is the only way,” was Villard’s
-response. “And, Miss Shepard,” he said,
-hurriedly, for the others had already scattered
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_142'>142</span>through the girls’ wing, leaving them alone,
-“I want to say that, as I believe you have
-found the only true solution to the main questions
-of the labor problem, I pledge myself to
-heartily sustain you in every way. You have
-only to command me, and I am ready.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Why did Salome turn away to hide the vivid
-blush that suddenly swept over her face?</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I am sure of that,” she said, presently, with
-an effort, “I have counted on you from the
-first. I shall try, by my own personal efforts,
-to help the factory girls. But I shall depend
-on you, and you alone, to manage the young
-men.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I shall not fail you,” was all he said, as
-Salome locked the door of the hall behind them,
-and they went over the girl’s wing to find the
-others.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The bedrooms on this wing were like those
-on the other side. There were ample closets
-and plenty of light and air and window space.
-The rooms were not spacious, but they were
-complete in every respect, and a vast improvement
-on anything the Shawsheen mill-girls had
-ever seen.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I did not want large rooms,” said Salome;
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_143'>143</span>“I think it is better to put not more than two
-girls in a room. I shall put two single beds in
-each, and fit up the rooms with everything
-necessary for comfort; then I shall insist that
-the girls keep their own rooms in the best of
-order. Oh, you’ll see what a disciplinarian I
-shall be!”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The third floor was entirely given up to bedrooms,
-the two wings being entirely separated
-from each other by the upper portion of the
-hall which extended to the top of the dome.
-Every part of the building was beautifully
-finished, well-lighted, and planned for general,
-practical convenience.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“There, if I never do anything else,” said
-Salome, after they had come out of the place,
-and stood looking back at it, “I shall feel
-that I have raised a suitable monument to old
-Newbern Shepard. I believe, if he could have
-lived until now, that he would have done the
-same thing himself—only better.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“He couldn’t, Miss Shepard,” said Villard.
-“It is absolutely perfect.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Yes,” admitted Burnham, “it is. But do
-you realize, Miss Shepard, what an elephant
-you’ve got on your hands? It’s going to be a
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_144'>144</span>fearful tax on your mind and strength to keep
-it up, and to carry out half you’ve planned.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Well, what were health and strength given
-me for?” Salome asked, with the abruptness
-which sometimes characterized her.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Most young women find a solution to that
-question without running an eleemosynary institution,”
-was Burnham’s mental comment;
-but he said nothing.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I expect to see my happiest days while I
-have the care of this establishment. I’m sure
-I never was so happy as I’ve been for the past
-six months. Now, I must finish this great
-house. I shall need all the suggestions and
-practical aid you can each give me, especially
-about the libraries and reading-rooms. As to
-the selection of books, I’m going to begin with
-a comparative few. Will you two gentlemen
-come up to the house to-morrow night, prepared
-to help make out a suitable list?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“You forget that I have to go to New York
-to-morrow,” said Burnham. “But Villard can
-go; and I can help afterwards, you know.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“As soon as we get everything in readiness,”
-pursued Salome, “we will have a formal opening.
-We’ll have music and something good
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_145'>145</span>to eat, and a little talking, and perhaps a dance
-to close with.” Salome looked wickedly at
-her aunt, but the latter paid no heed. “Remember
-your promise, Mr. Villard.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I shall not be the one to forget it,” he
-answered.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>They separated very soon, Salome and her
-aunt and Marion taking the architect home
-with them, and Burnham and Villard going
-back to the mills.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>But all through the afternoon, and all
-through the watches of the night, one sentence
-repeated itself to John Villard’s heart, comforting
-and helping him, strangely: “I have
-counted on you from the first.”</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_146'>146</span>
- <h2 class='c006'>XIII.</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c007'>It was Halloween when the new building
-was formally opened. Up to that time, only a
-few privileged persons were allowed to enter
-its sacred portals; but every one connected
-with the Shawsheen Mills was invited to be
-present at the opening.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>On the hill, back of the mills, stood one
-hundred new cottages, each costing from
-fifteen to twenty-five hundred dollars, and all
-ready for occupancy; but as yet none of the
-mill-hands had seen the inside of one of them.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>It had been a work of no small magnitude
-to find a suitable matron for the Newbern
-Shepard Hall. But, finally, the widow of a
-former physician in Shepardtown, a woman of
-excellent character and judgment, and with
-some experience as matron of a young ladies’
-school, was secured and duly installed in the
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_147'>147</span>two pleasant rooms set apart for her in the
-girls’ wing.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>John Villard had relieved Salome’s mind of
-another perplexity, by offering to take up permanent
-quarters for himself in the young
-men’s side; for, although she had felt the
-necessity of such an arrangement, she had not
-liked to ask him to give up what she rightly
-guessed were more congenial apartments in a
-quiet corner of the town. But he felt that his
-influence would be needed at the Hall, and
-that he could do the work which he hoped to
-do much better, if he were in the midst of the
-young men whom he wished to interest in
-many ways. And before Halloween, he was
-comfortably settled in two rooms at the Hall.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The evening came, clear and cold; such an
-evening as only the last of October can give.
-The building was brilliantly lighted from top
-to bottom, and decorated with flags and evergreen.
-Outside, Chinese lanterns and bunting
-lined both sides of the walk up to the main
-entrance, and helped to give it a holiday air. A
-band of street-musicians, who happened to be
-in town, had been engaged and were stationed
-in front of the building, where their tolerably
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_148'>148</span>harmonious strains gave just as much pleasure
-to the not over-critical audience that was fast
-assembling, as Thomas’ or Seidl’s men could
-have afforded them.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Inside, Salome waited impatiently. Without
-any premeditated plan, Villard and Burnham
-placed her and Marion, with Mrs. Soule
-in the background—for she “declined to be
-introduced to these persons”—in the center of
-the library; and forming themselves into a
-reception committee, they drafted into service
-a few of the best-appearing young men, who
-presented every comer to the owner of the
-mills and her friend. After giving each one a
-cordial welcome and hand-shake, Salome told
-them they were free to inspect the new building
-as they pleased; and, consequently, every
-mill-hand, accompanied by every other member
-of his or her family, went critically over the
-wonderful new building, which seemed to their
-unaccustomed eyes a structure of unwonted
-magnificence, and furnished in a most luxurious
-style.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>It had been fitted up inexpensively, but with
-the utmost good taste. No carpets were on
-the floors, but American rugs abounded wherever
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_149'>149</span>they had seemed necessary. The library
-furniture was of plain, substantial oak, like the
-heavy woodwork of the room. Throughout
-the rest of the house, bedrooms, dining-rooms,
-and class-rooms were furnished with strong,
-neat, ash furniture. There were a few good
-engravings on the walls of the principal rooms,
-and the bookcases were about half-filled with
-literature of a harmless and interesting, if light
-quality. They had all agreed it would not be
-best to fill the shelves at first, but to watch the
-popular taste and to “leave room for improvement,”
-as Marion said.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The operatives were simply astonished at
-what they saw. Some were even yet incredulous,
-and whispered that they would not be willing
-nor able to live in such a place; but many
-of the girls’ eyes brightened as they inspected
-their new quarters, and showed a determination,
-on the part of their owners, to come in for some
-of the good times they saw in store. It is doubtful
-if even the lowest ones there did not feel a
-new self-respect creeping up in their hearts.
-Dress may not make the man, but surroundings
-often do the woman.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>By half-past eight the stream of people
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_150'>150</span>stopped pouring through the big front doors.
-Everybody had come in, shaken hands with
-Salome and Marion, and passed along, scattering
-themselves over the building.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Now let’s get every one into the hall,
-above,” said Salome, “and have a little talking
-and some music.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>It was some little time before the crowd of
-visitors could be gathered in one place, but
-after a while the hall was well filled, and the
-musicians installed in their place. The sound
-of the band, indoors, proved an effectual summons
-for the stragglers. For the first time,
-Salome, on the platform, faced a surging, eager
-crowd of her own people in Newbern Shepard
-Hall.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>She had wanted one of her two “faithful
-henchmen” to take the lead to-night; but
-they had each refused, saying she was better
-fitted than they; that it was eminently her own
-affair and not theirs, and that the success of
-the opening depended on her alone. The
-last argument was enough, and, much to
-Mrs. Soule’s horror at seeing “Cora de Bourdillon’s
-daughter” in such a plight, Salome
-presided over her first meeting,—“exactly
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_151'>151</span>as if she were one of those ‘woman’s rights
-women.’”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>When the musicians had finished, Salome
-stepped forward, and not without some inward
-quaking, made her first speech.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>It was an occasion the Shawsheen Mill hands
-never forgot. Salome, always well and appropriately
-dressed, had not slighted them by refusing
-to appear at her best. She wore a white
-China silk costume, rightly thinking her young
-people would be readily reached by the gospel
-of good clothes. Her gown was simply
-made, but fitted exquisitely her well-proportioned
-figure. Neck and wrists were finished
-with beautiful old point lace, and she did not
-scorn to wear her grandmother’s diamonds.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Her attractive appearance, her cordial
-and interested manner, and her winning
-voice had pleaded her cause with the critical
-operatives before she had uttered a half-dozen
-sentences. Her sincerity and earnestness went
-straight to their sensibilities, and, before she
-had suspected it, every heart in the room was
-hers.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“My dear friends,” she began, “I
-never made a speech in my life, and cannot
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_152'>152</span>now. I never stood on a platform before; and
-only my interest in every one of you brings me
-here to-night. I only want to say that this
-building, which you see now for the first time,
-and which I hope will prove a happy home for
-many of you, is built to my grandfather’s
-memory. Some who are present to-night remember
-him and love him still, I hope.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Here several gray-haired men in the audience
-nodded their heads, and one was heard to mutter,
-“Ay, ay, we do.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“If he had lived, I think everything
-in the factory would have been different.
-Your lives would have been different; and mine,
-too, perhaps. For one thing, I don’t believe
-you and I would have grown up strangers to
-each other. You know, by this time, I am sure,
-that I have a glorious plan for making the
-Shawsheen Mills the best on earth.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Not by tearing down mills and building
-new and more elegant ones; not alone by making
-costly improvements; but by having—and
-mind, this is the only way it can be done,—by
-having the best and most conscientious and intelligent
-class of operatives in this country,—and
-that will mean, of course, in the world.
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_153'>153</span>Now, you all know I cannot do this alone;
-every one of you has a part in carrying out
-this plan of mine. And unless you all agree
-to help, it will fail. Don’t think I want you to
-do any impossible thing. I only want every
-one of you to be the best and do the best you
-possibly can. You and I are going to have
-some splendid times in the future. We’re
-going to get better acquainted with each other.
-We are going to become real friends. On your
-part, you are going to deserve my good opinion
-and my honest friendship; on my part, I’m
-going to deserve your confidence and trust and
-love; and between us we are going to show
-the people of Massachusetts that a cotton-factory
-can become something more than a
-great machine to grind out yards and yards of
-unbleached sheeting; and that its operatives
-can become something better and greater than
-so many smaller wheels in the machinery. We
-will show that a factory community may be, and
-is, a prosperous, happy, contented and intelligent
-people.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Some of the young men could contain themselves
-no longer, and broke into enthusiastic
-applause as Salome uttered the last sentiment.
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_154'>154</span>Villard chuckled secretly as he observed that
-the leaders in it were the heads of the committees
-in the recent strike.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I’m so glad you agree with me,” said
-Salome heartily, when the noise had subsided.
-“Now, I want to tell you about this house.
-The rooms are all ready for occupancy. I think
-there are accommodations for all who care to
-come. You are to leave the old boardinghouses
-on the corporation, and I shall have them
-taken down at once. The price of board will
-remain the same as at the old houses. The
-reading-rooms are ready, the library is yours,
-and we shall soon find means of entertainment
-and work, which will keep us all contented, I
-hope. Mr. Villard will occupy rooms on this
-floor, and the matron, whom I will shortly present
-to you, will be on the girls’ wing. There
-will be but few rules, and those, I trust, not
-irksome. I cannot imagine that any one will
-not be willing to obey them. The new houses
-on the hill are all ready for the families on the
-corporation to move into. A few of the larger
-and better houses are to be let at an increased
-rental; but most of them will be let at the
-old rates. We have a plan, by which any
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_155'>155</span>one who wants to, may, after a little, buy a house
-and pay for it by monthly installments, just
-the same as you pay rent. But I will not go
-into details. Mr. Fales will be at the first cottage
-on the hill, and you can all make arrangements
-with him at any time after to-morrow
-morning. Now I have talked too long, I know,
-and am going to stop. I want to have you
-hear what Mr. Burnham and Mr. Villard have
-to say; but first we must have some music.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>If Salome could have read the trembling
-waves of sympathy and reverence which were
-already vibrating from the hearts of the young
-people whom she had addressed, she would not
-have sat down with the feeling of self-distrust
-and failure which followed her speech. The
-experience, the very atmosphere, was unique in
-the history of industrial experiments.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The two superintendents followed the band
-with speeches that were characteristic of each.
-Burnham’s, witty and tinged with sarcasm, but
-friendly and cordial enough; and Villard’s,
-strong with earnest purpose and full of brotherly
-love. The matron, Mrs. French, was presented,
-also, and her few remarks won a
-friendly recognition among the young folks;
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_156'>156</span>and then Salome announced that the meeting
-would adjourn to the dining-rooms in the
-basement.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>More refined audiences than hers have not
-been slow to exchange an atmosphere of sentiment
-and intellectuality for one of prosaic
-salads and cold meats, and more fanciful ices
-and coffee; and the Shawsheen operatives were
-soon encountering a more æsthetic collation,
-it is probable, than had ever been served them
-before. But as it was a bountiful one, they
-acted well their part and found no fault.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The crowning delight of the evening came
-afterward. The young men were asked to
-lend a hand, and soon the floor was cleared
-in the large hall, and word was circulated
-through the house that the evening’s entertainment
-would close with dancing. Nothing
-could have gone so far toward convincing
-the mill-hands that Salome had meant what
-she said, than this concession to their social
-rights, unless it was the fact that she, herself,—the
-haughty, aristocratic daughter of Floyd
-Shepard, whom they had looked upon with
-envy not unmixed with hatred,—that she should
-lead the dance with the younger superintendent.
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_157'>157</span>An orchestra of three pieces was selected
-from the band of musicians, and Marion and
-Salome, by turns, furnished the piano accompaniment.
-Salome claimed her promise from
-Villard and danced merrily, not only the first
-figure but several others. Mrs. Soule was too
-much overcome by all she had seen and heard
-to endure this, and was taken home; but the
-others staid until the midnight hour tolled, and
-the dancers had all bidden good-night to their
-newly-developed friends and gone home enthusiastic
-in their praise of the new order of
-things in the mill <i><span lang="fr">régime</span></i>, and, especially, of
-the woman who was opening to them the wider
-doors of opportunity.</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_158'>158</span>
- <h2 class='c006'>XIV.</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c007'>John Villard passed a wakeful night in
-his new rooms at Newbern Shepard Hall. A
-strange and unwonted feeling had taken possession
-of him; one which he was slow to
-recognize, but which cried loudly to him of
-his folly and presumption, even while it refused
-to be put off.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>After that first dance, Salome had paused by
-an open window and he had stood idly watching
-her. Suddenly a tremendous desire to
-clasp her in his arms, to hold her close, to
-demand her full surrender, swept over him. So
-sudden and strong was the passion, that it was
-with difficulty that he kept from seizing the
-soft hand which lay dangerously near on the
-window-sill. So over-mastering was it, that he
-dared not stay or even speak. He turned on
-his heel and went out under the quiet stars,
-alone.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_159'>159</span>In the days when she had held aloof from
-the mill, and the superintendents scarcely ever
-saw her, Geoffrey Burnham had regarded her
-as “something too bright and good for human
-nature’s daily food,” looking upon her as immensely
-above him, socially speaking. But
-now that she had become familiarly associated
-with them in the daily affairs and interests of
-the mill, Burnham thought of her as having
-entered the field of good comradeship, and
-felt that friendly, if not exactly equal, terms
-existed between them.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>With John Villard it was different. He had
-begun by looking with a certain degree of
-scorn upon a woman who held tremendous interests
-so lightly as she had done in the old
-days. He had felt for her all the contempt a
-man who does not know them—a man with
-serious purposes—may feel for the irresponsible
-butterflies he imagines society-girls to be. With
-her deeper interest in the side of life which
-interested him, and her efforts to raise the
-standard of the mills, her realization of what
-to him was a sacred object in life and her devotion
-to it, his thought of her had changed.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>With him, familiar every-day contact had not
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_160'>160</span>made of her a comrade, in the ordinary sense
-of the word. Her beauty and refinement, together
-with the consciousness which never left
-his sensitive soul, that it was her wealth and
-her generosity which made the new conditions
-possible,—these things only served to raise her
-to a pedestal where she stood, forever apart
-from the rest of the universe,—a woman to be
-revered and worshiped; not a woman to be
-aspired to.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Suddenly, he found himself in love with her.
-The tide of feeling which swept over him was
-one that no man could mistake. It was not
-enough that he might worship her on her
-pedestal, with a devotion silent and unknown.
-He wanted to hold her in his arms. He wanted
-her eyes to droop before his glance—not to
-look at him in the steady fashion he knew so
-well. He wanted to feel her heart beating
-against his. He wanted to kiss her.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Poor fool!” he told himself, a hundred
-times that night. “As if she would even look
-at me—a poor factory-boy, self-educated, self-trained,
-and—yes, self-conceited!”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>He remembered his youth; how poor he had
-been; how he had studied by moonlight to
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_161'>161</span>save the expense of a candle; how he had
-worked all through his boyhood in a cotton-mill,
-that he might help his older sister to support
-their mother; how, after his mother had
-died and his sister married, he had remained
-poor and alone and almost friendless; how
-little he had seen and known of women; how
-utterly lacking he was in all the graces of society
-and the refinements that he supposed to
-come from outward polish only; in short, how
-utterly at variance with her tastes and interests
-and aims his life had been.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>He remembered her life of luxury, of travel,
-of careful training, and the indulgence of
-cultivated, æsthetic tastes. What was he, that
-he should dare to even think of her? What
-but a presumptuous fool, that he should dream
-of touching even her frail, white hand? And
-yet, her eyes had drooped when they met his
-that day, when they all went over the Hall
-together. Stay—what did it mean? Did she?—could
-she feel?—but, no. He was a presumptuous
-idiot to think of it.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>He paced the floor for an hour. Then he
-lit a cigar and, under its peaceful influences, he
-tried again to fix his mind on the mills, on the
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_162'>162</span>changed condition of things, on anything,—but
-her. Still, constantly, over and over, her
-tall, white-robed figure took shape in the curling
-wreaths of vapor, and he fell to dreaming
-what it would be like to have a happy home of
-his own, with her as its center and joy.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Again, he was exasperated with himself and
-called himself hard names. He threw away the
-half-smoked weed and resolutely prepared for
-bed; but only to toss wearily about, combating
-himself on the old grounds until the dawn,
-pushing its way through the crevices of his
-blinds, told him to rise and set his face again
-toward the workaday world. It was the first
-time that hard-working, earnest, practical John
-Villard had ever passed a sleepless night.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>He had hardly seen how he was to bear the
-daily contact with Salome, after that. He was
-too modest and too honest with himself to
-dream that there might be any hope for him.
-He had, at one time during the night, thought
-of leaving the mills, and going away to try a
-new and easier life than this promised to be.
-Then he called himself a coward and remembered
-her words:</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I have depended on you from the first,”
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_163'>163</span>and he determined to stay, cost what it might.
-Besides, all his hopes and interests were with
-the Shawsheen workers. No: he could not
-leave them, he could not leave her now.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>So he went forth in the morning, unchanged
-in outward appearance, and yet, stronger and
-better for this first grand fight with himself.
-And he met her with his usual deferential bow
-and smile when, by and by, she came to the
-office for her usual morning’s study of business
-affairs.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>It was unanimously agreed that the opening
-of the Hall had been a grand success. The
-mill-hands, themselves, seemed to feel the new
-attitude into which they had suddenly stepped,
-and were already brighter and more hopeful.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>On her way to the mills, Salome had met a
-young overseer, who was hurrying in to town
-for something. She greeted him pleasantly,
-calling him by name, when, to her surprise, he
-stopped.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I’d like to thank you, Miss Shepard,” the
-burly young fellow began, “for what you are
-doing for us. If all the employers took the
-interest in their operatives as you do in us,
-we’d want no more Unions, and there’d be no
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_164'>164</span>more strikes. I’m thinking you’ve got ahead
-of the rest of us on the labor question, and
-found the right answer to it.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I’m very glad to hear you say that,”
-Salome answered, with a glow at her heart
-which no speech from a man of the world had
-ever produced. “I want to find it, if I haven’t
-yet. But, you know it doesn’t depend on
-me alone. I may try, as hard as I can, but if
-you people don’t co-operate with me, I’m helpless.
-I want to depend on you, Mr. Brady.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“And you can that, miss,” was the hearty
-answer. “You’ve got us all on your side now,
-sure. I went up this morning to see the houses.
-They are fine ones, too.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“And did you pick out one for yourself, Mr.
-Brady? You are married, I believe?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I am that; and I’ve got as good a wife as
-ever the saints sent to bless a man. Yes, I
-picked out the one I liked best; but the
-woman’ll have to see it first, you know. And
-then, do you know, I think I’ll buy it. The
-terms are so easy, and I’ve a little money laid
-by, that I’d like to use; and I’m thinking
-Carrie’d be happier in a home of our own.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Now, that’s sensible of you,” said Salome,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_165'>165</span>delighted that her houses were in such good
-prospect of pleasing. “If you do it, I’ve no
-doubt a good many others will. And, by and
-by, we shall have quite a community of property
-owners.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Brady straightened himself up unconsciously
-at the word, touched his hat and passed on,
-his heart warmed and gratified by the kindly
-notice; while Salome entered the office in
-unusually good spirits.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“It seems to me,” she began, addressing herself
-to Burnham, “that everything is swinging
-round into the circle of my plans far better
-than I had dared hope. I expected opposition,
-or at least indifference, on the part of the
-operatives. On the contrary, they are all as
-delighted with the state of affairs as I am.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Why shouldn’t they be?” was Burnham’s
-comment. “They’d be ungrateful wretches
-if they weren’t. They’ve far more to gain
-than you have to lose, remember.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“But you’ve been trying to make me believe,”
-pursued Salome, “that they didn’t want their
-condition improved; that they were satisfied to
-be let alone; and that they’d resist every improvement
-I offered.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_166'>166</span>“Wait a little and see;” Burnham tried to
-make his tone impartial, if not skeptical;
-“you’ve only begun yet. Don’t expect the
-habits of months and years, the loose customs
-and low tastes, are going to be overthrown in
-a single night. The affair of last night, for
-instance, was doubtless the most orderly entertainment
-and the quietest dance they ever had.
-But it don’t follow that they will all of them be
-satisfied to drop entirely the old order of low
-dances when they had plenty to drink, even if
-they didn’t have salads and coffee, or ice-cream
-and cake. There’s no telling how many of
-them will be stealing off to those places before
-winter is over.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Then we must get up some form of
-entertainment that will hold them to us,”
-said Salome firmly. “They sha’n’t fall
-back, if anything we can compass can save
-them.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Villard looked across his big ledger at her,
-as if she had been an angel sent from Heaven
-direct, to preach a higher political economy to
-the cotton factories of earth. She caught his
-look and smiled back at him; but she said no
-more.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_167'>167</span>She did not speak to him until just as she
-was ready to go home.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“How do you like your new quarters, Mr.
-Villard?” she said, then. “I hope you rested
-well last night?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Villard remembered his sleepless hours
-vaguely, as in a dream. She looked so bright
-and untroubled herself.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“You deserted me after that first dance.
-Did I dance so badly that you feared or dreaded
-to be caught by me again? If it hadn’t been
-for Mr. Burnham and Mr. Fales I should have
-felt quite a wall-flower.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“You never could be that, Miss Shepard,”
-poor Villard managed to say.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Well, as soon as the young people get moved
-in we must start some classes. I know a good
-dressmaker whom I can get, and Marion will
-teach them some other things, if they want it.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>She lingered some minutes, talking over the
-Hall and her plans, and left him with a confused
-image of herself mixing up with the
-figures of the ledger in a most incongruous way.
-Alas! John Villard was to have many a hard
-fight with himself before he could drive away
-that image at will.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_168'>168</span>The young operatives—and all that dwelt
-within the corporation boarding-house walls—began
-that very night to pick up their effects,
-and make ready to move into their new quarters.
-Mrs. French had all she could attend to in preparing
-for her large family, assigning rooms, and
-attending to the thousand details of opening
-the Hall. But before the week was closed,
-every old boarding-house was closed and the
-new home full.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Marion Shaw found her time altogether
-occupied. Her work was to lie directly among
-the girls, as Villard’s influence was to save the
-boys and young men. Marion had a gentle
-and pleasing manner that made friends everywhere
-she went. She had had a good deal of
-experience in managing boarding-school girls,
-and although they are a widely different class
-from factory girls, human nature—girl-nature,
-is the same everywhere. Before the week
-was over, Marion had made friends with many
-of the girls, and had already interested them
-in keeping their rooms tidy, in forming a girls’
-club, which should embrace all sorts of
-good ends, and in rousing in them what was of
-infinite value in the work she had laid out,—a
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_169'>169</span>desire to become as near like her and Salome
-as it was possible for them to be.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“We shall have to endure the cross of
-having them cut all their dresses like ours,
-wear ribbons like ours, do up their hair like
-ours, and get up the most astonishing hats
-purporting to be like ours,” said she to Salome
-one night; “but if it all comes of their wanting
-to be like us,—you understand me, dear,—I
-mean of their wanting to reach a higher
-ideal of course,—we can bear it.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“We shall have to,” was the answer.
-“The truth of it is, they will be trying to copy
-our habits and manners and characters, too.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Then we shall have to be all the more
-careful,” said Marion seriously.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Life to Marion Shaw was a serious thing.
-Although she was but twenty-seven years old,
-she had come to realize that life may not be
-for any what the fancy of youth pictures it;
-and even to realize that the highest good
-which life can hold is not to be happy.
-Already she knew that happiness is but a
-relative term, and that only by ceasing to search
-and plan for it, can any of us find it even in
-small degree.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_170'>170</span>Just now, she walked dangerously near to
-happiness. On the opening night, Geoffrey
-Burnham had kept closely at her side all the
-evening, and after the affair was over, he had
-walked home with her, while Robert Fales had
-gone ahead with Salome.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>At the door, the two had paused a little,
-looking at the exquisite, moonlit October night.
-Suddenly the extraordinary interest Burnham
-had felt in this young woman had culminated.
-He seized both her hands in his, and pressed
-them close to his breast.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Why have you not come to me before?”
-he murmured, passionately. “Why have you
-waited all these years?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I was waiting for you,” she answered, with
-a smile.</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_171'>171</span>
- <h2 class='c006'>XV.</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c007'>One evening in January, Salome and Marion
-went over early to Newbern Shepard Hall.
-Marion’s duties called her there every evening,
-and she was seldom unaccompanied by her
-friend.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The success of Salome’s schemes for the interest
-of the working-girls seemed already
-assured. Although the Hall had been open
-but little more than two months, classes in
-dressmaking and millinery and in domestic
-science were already established, and were well
-attended. Some girls there were, it is true,
-who felt that, after working all day, they were
-entitled to an idle evening, or to the right of
-amusing themselves after their own fashion.
-But plenty of young women had been found
-to open the classes, and the number was steadily
-increasing. No strong measures had been
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_172'>172</span>taken to induce these girls to join. Marion
-had talked with some of them individually, at
-first, and found a few who, half skeptically,
-had consented to try the dressmaking class, as
-an experiment. Then the announcement was
-made that a class would be opened on a certain
-night, and twenty-six girls were present.
-Instruction in sewing, cutting and fitting was
-given free to any woman connected with the
-Shawsheen Mills. As the girls had been paying
-exorbitant prices for having cheap material
-poorly made up, and as Salome had provided
-instructors from the best dressmaking establishment
-Shepardtown afforded, the girls were
-not slow to see the benefit that would come to
-them.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The young wives of operatives, too, women
-with houses and children to care for, then
-began to avail themselves of the privileges
-which the class afforded. So that, on this January
-evening, there were over a hundred and
-fifty women in the classes, and another room
-had been opened to them on the ground
-floor.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>It was the same with other classes. At first,
-the young women had joined with the older
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_173'>173</span>ones in “pooh-poohing” the cooking and
-housekeeping lectures and demonstrations.
-The idea that they and their mothers did not
-know how to cook, and that Salome, who knew
-absolutely nothing of such matters, essayed to
-teach them, was a most distasteful one. But
-when they found that a celebrated teacher was
-to come out twice a week from Boston, and give
-demonstrations in the model class-rooms below,
-and that a graduate of the Boston Cooking
-School had been engaged to take charge of
-the lessons every evening, they, the young
-married women from the cottages, especially,
-dropped in from curiosity; and although they
-had come to scoff, they remained to cook. In
-short, they had become deeply interested in the
-new ways of housekeeping, and were surprised
-and delighted to find a way of making their
-few dollars go farther and procure a better and
-more healthful living. Consequently, these
-classes, too, were full, although the older
-matrons did not yet give up their prejudices.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Among the girls who had not yet joined the
-classes, there were many who sat quietly in
-their own rooms or in the large reading-rooms,
-and enjoyed the current magazines and papers,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_174'>174</span>or gossiped quietly and harmlessly about the
-fashions and each other—not altogether unlike
-women of higher pretensions. It was astonishing,
-even to Salome, who had, from the first,
-believed in her girls, how few of them went
-out on the streets at night.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“It is not astonishing to me,” said Marion,
-that January evening, in reply to a remark from
-her friend to this effect. “The girls are tired
-at night and are only too glad to have a pleasant,
-light and steam-heated place to stay in. Their
-rooms at the old boardinghouses were cold, barren
-and dismal. In winter weather they could
-not sit in them, and the so-called parlor was not
-much better. When I was at Mme. Blanc’s
-one of her servant girls went wrong. I shall
-never forget something she said. When Madame
-heard of it, she sent for the girl and asked
-her, bitterly, what had made her bring such a
-scandalous thing upon a select house like hers.
-I was in her room at the time. The poor girl
-looked up at Mme. Blanc and said, ‘O, ma’am,
-you’re awful particular about where your young
-ladies spend their evenings,—girls that you’re
-paid for looking after. But us servant girls—how
-did you look after us? You didn’t allow
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_175'>175</span>us a light in our own rooms, or to speak above
-a whisper in the kitchen, or seem to think we was
-human beings at all. What else could we do,
-but go out on the street when we wanted a bit
-of freedom? And once, on the street, ma’am,
-girls like us ain’t never safe. If you’d looked
-out for me, ma’am, and treated me as well as
-you treat your own dog or cat, it would never
-have happened.’ Poor Madame was overcome
-entirely, and the girl left her white with rage.
-But she looked after her servants more closely
-afterward, and kept them in at night in warm
-rooms. I don’t believe our girls want to do
-wrong,—especially if we make it comfortable
-for them to do right.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>On the young men’s side, things had gone
-equally well. There was a class of them who,
-like their fathers before them, were sturdy,
-honest and faithful. It was a small class, but
-upon these John Villard depended to counteract
-the influence of the lower foreign element
-that had crept in; and to the pride of these
-he appealed, both directly and indirectly, in
-his efforts to establish a better social atmosphere
-among the operatives.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>With a few of these to begin with, he had
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_176'>176</span>opened an evening school on the other wing of
-the Hall; and, as in the case of the women’s
-classes, it had increased in numbers and interest
-from the start. The overseers, almost to a
-man, gladly availed themselves of its opportunities
-for the education that the true American
-always feels the need for; and they, with the
-better class of men from the looms and mules,
-set the example for others to follow.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>No better man for the work could have been
-chosen than John Villard. He had come up
-under much the same conditions that governed
-them. He had begun on the lowest round,
-and worked up to the position he now occupied,
-by hard work and the closest application to
-business. This fact, together with his attitude
-toward them during the strike, had made him
-a favorite with nearly every man on the works.
-They felt that they could place the utmost
-confidence in Villard; and in the Shawsheen
-Mills, as everywhere, a rugged sincerity and
-honesty of purpose carried a weight that even
-the most unstable felt.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The lecture-hall was usually packed at the
-weekly entertainment which Salome provided,
-and a new feeling of content and self-respect
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_177'>177</span>had begun to permeate the mills. Make a
-man who has been looked upon as a mere
-machine feel that he is estimated at something
-near the worth which every human being feels
-in his heart that he is entitled to, and you have
-done much to raise him to a higher social
-standard. For the first time since old Newbern
-Shepard’s day, the mill-hands began to feel
-a just pride in being individual American
-citizens. Unconsciously, both men and women
-were setting their faces toward the higher
-standards which Villard by his life, and
-Salome by her newly awakened energy, had
-set for them.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>At the mills, affairs were on a most flourishing
-basis. The Shawsheen brand of cloth was
-too well known to allow of a few months shutdown
-of the mills making any difference in the
-law of demand. Orders had increased, even
-while the mills were closed, and they had been
-worked to their utmost capacity ever since they
-had opened. Never had the Shawsheen Mills
-been more prosperous than at the beginning of
-January, or their future looked brighter.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>When Villard had opened his evening school
-he invited Burnham to co-operate with him;
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_178'>178</span>but the latter had put him off without a
-definite reply, and not until the afternoon of
-the day referred to in the beginning of this
-chapter had Villard asked him whether or not
-he might count on his assistance. Burnham
-occasionally looked in at the Hall of an evening,
-but Villard had begun to suspect that this
-was principally for the purpose of seeing
-Marion Shaw.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Well, to tell the truth,” Burnham finally
-admitted, “I’ve no taste for this sort of thing.
-Oh, yes; it’s a good scheme, and seems to be
-working first-rate; but I’m not the right fellow
-for the place. I don’t like philanthropic work,
-never did, never shall. I work hard enough
-during the day. I need rest and freedom at
-night.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Villard smiled.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“And I suppose I don’t do anything day-times
-and need this sort of thing as recreation
-and intellectual stimulus?” His tone was
-sarcastic, for he had little patience with selfishness
-in any form.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“No, not that,” said Burnham. “You
-work hard enough—too hard, in fact. But all
-this is more in your line. You’re like Miss
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_179'>179</span>Shepard; you’re both of you happier working
-yourselves to death for others. Now, I’m not
-built on that plan. I’ve no faculty for teaching,
-and I’m sure that my well-meant efforts to
-meet the men half-way are looked upon by
-them as condescension on my part.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>He waited an instant for Villard to speak,
-but no answer came.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I can’t help it. I wasn’t born to the manor,
-so to speak. I didn’t come up from the ranks,
-as you know. I suppose they’d believe in me
-more, if I had. But you know that my
-father put me under Mr. Greenough to learn
-the business, only after I had graduated from
-college and fooled away a year in Europe. I
-sometimes doubt if I’m not out of place in this
-mill as it is run nowadays.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Oh, no, not that,” put in Villard hastily.
-“You’re too good a business man. We couldn’t
-spare you.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I can see how it’s all coming out,” Burnham
-continued, as if he had not heard Villard.
-“You two” (Villard’s heart jumped at the
-words) “will go on and make a model institution
-of the Shawsheen Mills. I should
-doubt if you made a profitable one, only that I
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_180'>180</span>know you’ve got a mighty good business head
-on your shoulders; and, I say, the way Miss
-Shepard is developing is a caution to us men.
-I’d no idea she’d take such a practical turn, or
-learn the details so readily. Oh, I can see where
-it’s going to end. She’ll be the recognized head
-and you’ll be her first assistant. As for me, I
-sha’n’t be in it. I shall have resigned.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Jeff!” It was only occasionally that these
-two called each other by their boyhood names.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Yes, I don’t think I should care to have it
-known that I worked under a woman, much
-as I admire and respect Miss Shepard. There’d
-be no other way, unless I married her!”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Villard turned pale with sudden, inward rage,
-but he said nothing.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Don’t think I’d have much chance there,
-though,” Burnham went on lightly. “You’re
-more her style. And you’re both so much
-wrapped up in good works that you’ve no time
-for faith in each other, beyond what you waste
-in philanthropic effort. Miss Shepard don’t
-seem to be the marrying kind. I don’t believe
-she ever thinks of a man unless he has the
-merit of being an operative in the mills.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“And since you’re bent on discussing matrimonial
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_181'>181</span>matters,” observed Villard, with sarcasm,
-“how about Miss Shaw? And when are the
-wedding-cards to be issued?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Burnham shook the ashes from his cigar and
-looked at his watch critically.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Marion Shaw is a fine girl,” he said. “She’s
-the right kind of woman to tie to; but”—and
-Burnham took up his hat to go out—“I’m not
-the marrying kind either.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>So Villard had come to understand that he
-must take care of his evening school as best
-he could alone.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Robert Fales had settled in Shepardtown.
-There were to be more cottages built in the
-spring, and to him Salome had alone confided her
-plan of erecting a new church which should be
-named for her grandfather. When the evening
-school began to grow, he went to Villard and
-offered his services as assistant, and had proved
-a most valuable one.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>This evening Salome looked in upon them,
-and asked Villard if he could give her a few
-moments after the class.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I shall be very glad,” he replied. “I have
-been working up the idea you spoke about the
-other day, and wanted to talk with you about it.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_182'>182</span>“The profit-sharing scheme?” asked Salome.
-“That’s just what I wanted to speak of. It
-seems to me we ought, now, at the beginning of
-the year, to get it into manageable shape, and
-tell the men, so that they may know what to
-expect. I will be in the reception-room when
-your class is through.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Much as Villard was interested in his work
-the remaining hour dragged a little. The
-prospect of a quiet <i><span lang="fr">tête-à-tête</span></i> with Salome, even
-on so unromantic a subject as profit-sharing,
-was too alluring.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>But, at last, he found himself face to face
-with her, and for a few moments forgot all else
-in the pleasure of listening to her voice and
-watching the curve of her chin and mobile lips,
-as she talked of immaterial things.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“And now, what kind of a plan have you
-formulated as to the profit-sharing?” she
-asked, after a little.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Profits—oh, yes,” said Villard, suddenly
-brought to himself. “I have examined all
-the accounts of such experiments in foreign
-countries, and tried to remember the differing
-conditions and better wages here. I have
-prepared a rough draft of a circular which I
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_183'>183</span>thought perhaps you might like to send out
-among the hands. Do you want to see it?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Of course,” was the answer.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I don’t pretend it is complete, you know,”
-he went on, drawing a folded paper from his
-inner pocket. “It is only an abstract, but—here
-it is.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Read it to me, please,” said Salome.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>He would rather have had her read it, while
-he watched her face; but he complied.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“For some time past,” the circular read,
-“the subject of co-operation in some form has
-been considered by the Shawsheen Mills.
-Believing that capital and labor are interdependent
-and their interests identical, it has
-been decided to adopt some plan by which the
-laborer may obtain a share of the product in
-proportion to the profits of the scheme, at the
-same time guaranteeing his wages against the
-time of loss.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“It is now proposed, therefore, to divide a
-sum among the Shawsheen employes, each year
-in which there are surplus profits, over and
-above wages earned.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Understand, that before anything can be
-set apart for this purpose, wages must be paid,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_184'>184</span>interest must be paid, and a fair profit on
-capital must be paid. In addition to this, an
-additional amount must be set aside to make
-good the wear and tear of buildings and machinery,
-and to strengthen reserve funds against
-a time of depression.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Ordinarily, the sum above all these amounts
-must be small, and must differ, of course, with
-the fluctuations of the market, the depression of
-trade, and the wear of machinery from year to
-year. It will be readily seen, also, that the
-sum to be divided will be enlarged by extra
-care and attention on the part of employes.
-Every weaver who makes a mis-pick, every
-burler who slights her work, every spinner who
-makes a needless knot; in short, every person
-who makes an unnecessary waste of any kind,
-makes the amount to be divided smaller, by
-making a loss to the concern; and, on the
-other hand, if every person in the mill attends
-to the little savings, the wool-washers saving
-every scrap of wool, the spinners making less
-waste, the weavers weaving up the whole
-bobbin, and so on through all the branches, a
-great saving can be made which will effectually
-increase the sum to be divided; and it will be
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_185'>185</span>for the direct interest of every employe to
-exercise such increased care and diligence.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“The mode of distributing this bonus will be
-by making a dividend of so much per cent. upon
-the wages earned by each person. If, after all
-contingencies are provided for, there is not
-enough left to make a dividend of one per
-cent., no dividend will be made for that year.
-In case of a dividend it will be paid on and
-after the first day of May in each year to all
-employes who have been in employ at the
-Shawsheen Mills for at least seven months
-during the year, and shall not have been
-discharged for drunken or disorderly conduct.
-The amount of wages earned during the year
-preceding the first of April shall be the
-amount upon which the bonus for each individual
-shall be computed.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“The profit for the present year, if there be
-a dividend, will be paid on or after the first
-day of May. Let every person connected with
-the mills work so faithfully, making every
-effort toward a wise economy, that the first
-dividend shall be an encouraging one.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>John Villard stopped reading the circular
-and looked across at Salome. She was regarding
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_186'>186</span>him with a fixed look of admiration and
-reverence, such as a good woman feels for but
-one man in a lifetime. For an instant his
-pulses leaped; but he was too modest a man to
-believe in his own good fortune.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Well, what do you think of it?” he
-asked.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>His words brought her to herself. Her
-expression faded to one of mere brightness,
-and became less frankly honest.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I think it capital,” she said. “I do not see
-how it can be improved. Will you let me take
-it home and consider it?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Of course,” he assented. “You know I
-do not pretend it is perfect. But it seems to
-me we risk nothing in trying it.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Salome rose to go and reached out her hand
-for the manuscript. Some pieces had fallen
-on the table and in gathering them up, their
-hands brushed against each other.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>An electric thrill shot through the frame of
-each. Salome stood, blushing and sweet,
-suddenly conscious that a crucial moment in
-her life had come. Had Villard but spoken,
-had he but clasped the hand that still remained
-near his!</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_187'>187</span>But, ever depreciating himself and knowing
-absolutely nothing of the heart of woman, he
-turned abruptly away, bringing Salome back
-to herself with a hasty “good-evening.” And
-then he strode away to the outer air, asking
-himself, savagely, why he was so weak and
-boyish because a pretty woman happened to
-touch his hand.</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_188'>188</span>
- <h2 class='c006'>XVI.</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c007'>All through the winter months, Geoffrey
-Burnham and Marion Shaw were constantly
-meeting. As Burnham had intimated to Villard,
-he had taken only a superficial interest
-in the philanthropic or ethical side of mill-economy.
-But he was often at the Hall of an
-evening; and upon pleasant nights, when the
-ladies walked over from the Shepard mansion,
-he accompanied them home after the evening’s
-engagement. If it were early, as on ordinary
-occasions, he went in and sat chatting with
-them for an hour or two. Mrs. Soule always
-welcomed him, and although she never went to
-the Hall, she found ample opportunities of
-telling him how many lonely hours it caused
-her.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I often wish Salome cared half as much,”
-she used plaintively to say on these occasions,
-“for a living aunt as for a dead grandfather.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_189'>189</span>Often, Burnham sang to Salome’s accompaniment,
-his rich tenor voice lending pathos,
-and his ardent glances a meaning, for Marion
-in the love-songs he sang so well. The latter
-sat silent at such times, a quiet content wrapping
-her round, forgetting the past, ignoring
-the future.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“A blind man’s paradise,” she told herself it
-was, as the weeks rolled by, and the glamour
-of a scarcely hinted but very evident passion
-waited in vain for more than the vaguest expression.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Sometimes the two were left alone for a
-while, when the conversation took a fitful tone,
-as if uncertain whether to be light and frivolous,
-or tender and deep. Several times Burnham
-had seized Marion’s unresisting hand and
-kissed it passionately; and, finally, one evening
-when they were alone, he had put his arm
-about her waist and drawn her close to him.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Why have we not had each other all these
-years?” he asked, looking into her sweet, confused
-eyes. “What cruel fate has kept you
-from me?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“It does not matter, does it, so long as we
-have each other now?” Marion had asked in
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_190'>190</span>reply. And then he had bent and kissed the
-pure white brow and the clustering rings of
-hair.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>After this, every night, Marion, kneeling by
-her bedside alone, thanked God for the love
-that had come to brighten her bereaved life.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>And Burnham? Did he realize what he
-might be doing when he won this true and
-loyal woman’s heart? At first, he, too, was
-happy in the present. The past held nothing
-which he was proud to remember; and into the
-future he stubbornly refused to look. He had,
-for years,—“since his days of adolescence,”
-he told himself,—had no interest in women,
-although he knew that, in a place like Shepardtown,
-he was the object of several fond mammas’
-machinations, and the admiration of most
-of the village girls. He had never met
-Marion’s counterpart. She interested and fascinated
-him. Simple and childish in many
-ways, she was grave and dignified in others.
-Her life, he could see, would be spent for
-others. She was one of those women who are
-a constant sacrifice to the world around them;
-who give openly and always of their best, asking
-and expecting little in return. In short-Burnham
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_191'>191</span>knew it as well as any one could—she
-was a woman whose life and love and
-utmost service would be absorbed by a selfish
-man, only to be as unappreciated as they were
-undeserved on his part. And yet, ever since
-their first meeting, months before, there had
-been that subtle consciousness of each other
-drawing them on, that wave of feeling on
-meeting, that positive yearning when they were
-separated.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>After Villard’s pointed questioning regarding
-Marion, Burnham began to question himself
-seriously. At first, when thoughts of the
-future had intruded into his calm moments, he
-thought of her as his wife; of himself as settled
-down in a house of his own; he even expected
-to be happy. But he did not put his thoughts
-into words. When he was with Marion, he
-avoided—not so much from intention perhaps
-as from a reluctance to break the spell of romance
-which hung over them—any mention
-of different relations in the future.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>It was April before he brought himself to
-face about and look at the subject, calmly and
-seriously. Just where was he drifting with
-Marion?</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_192'>192</span>One day he allowed himself to let fall some
-remark about her to Villard,—not in any way
-implying their peculiar relations, but yet speaking
-of her in such a way that Villard drew himself
-up to his straightest, and looked him in
-the eye a full moment. Not a word was said,
-but at that instant, Burnham felt the disagreeable
-consciousness of being a scoundrel.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>He went home that evening and tried to read.
-Then he tried to smoke. Then he thought of
-going over to the Shepard mansion. He finally
-decided on sitting down and squarely meeting
-an issue that should have been faced six months
-before.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Geoffrey Burnham was thirty-seven years old.
-He had considered only his own taste and
-desires ever since he was born. When he was
-a boy, if he had wanted anything, he had it.
-If his father did not grant his every wish his
-mother would. And she, poor woman, had
-fostered in him the idea that all his personal,
-imperious desires were meant, always, to be
-immediately granted. The conquering of Self
-had been no part of his early discipline.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>His father died when he was in Europe.
-When he came home, and entered the mills,—an
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_193'>193</span>arrangement the father effected just before his
-decease,—his pretty, white-faced mother had
-come to Shepardtown to be near her son. For
-him she lived and would die. Yielding weakly
-in everything to him, she avenged her position
-by setting herself against all other women.
-Salome had called upon her, and had invited
-her to her house, but in vain. Mrs. Burnham
-went nowhere, and wanted to see no one. Her
-son was all in all to her. And but for the
-constant fear that he would marry the handsome
-Miss Shepard, who, with all her wealth, she
-felt sure, would crowd her completely out of
-her son’s heart and home, she would have been
-a comparatively happy woman. Incredible to
-larger-hearted women, as it seems, there are
-women so selfish in their devotion to an only
-son, as to wreck his life, so far as its being
-of any practical value to himself and others is
-concerned, by the strength of their own
-weak persistence.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Burnham thought of his mother. He remembered
-the comfortable habits he had settled
-into; he wondered if any other woman would
-ever let him smoke in the best room in the
-house, or submit to his will when he chose, as
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_194'>194</span>he often did for days together, to speak only
-in monosyllables in his own house. He felt
-that, should he marry, his habits would all
-have to be changed; that the solitude which
-he prized, when he felt so inclined, might be
-absolute no longer. He remembered his
-mother’s peculiarities, and said to himself that
-there would be a devil of a row, should he
-undertake to bring a wife home. There might
-be constant bickerings, and that he never
-could abide. No; better let women alone.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Then he thought of Marion and sighed.
-Her tender eyes, when he parted from her two
-nights before, came up before him.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Hang it,” he asked himself; “just how
-far have I gone with her, anyway?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>He felt himself a scoundrel again, to his
-credit be it written. But then, there were the
-habits of a lifetime, and his mother to be
-remembered. Could he overthrow all his
-established convictions?</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>And yet, just what might Marion be
-expecting of him? No, he had given her no
-definite encouragement in words. Still, one
-never can tell how a good, pure woman is
-going to take these things.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_195'>195</span>Burnham went out under the April sky and
-walked up and down the concrete walk bareheaded,
-until his mother, from her window,
-reminded him for the third time that he would
-certainly get cold out there; and shouldn’t
-she make him a cup of hot negus? Then he
-came in and renewed the conflict.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I’ve let the thing run too long,” he said
-to himself, as he gazed into the open wood-fire,
-having refused the decoction his mother had
-patiently brought him. “I’ll have a reckoning
-with myself to-night, and decide this thing
-once for all.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Burnham was a decided man, and, once
-determined, seldom changed his mind. He
-boasted, sometimes, of that quality, forgetting
-that it is only an ignorant or an unprogressive
-soul which will never acknowledge itself in the
-wrong, or change its course from the one marked
-out, perhaps in obstinacy or error.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Until midnight he argued with himself,
-although, unconsciously, his mind had been
-secretly made up at the start. When the clock
-struck twelve he rose and got together his
-writing materials.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>He had fully decided that it would be folly
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_196'>196</span>for him to marry Marion Shaw. She was a
-rarely devoted, unselfish woman, and a most
-lovable one; but he knew himself, he said, and
-if she married him she would do so only to be
-unhappy in the end. She could not be otherwise,
-living with him and his mother.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>But how was he to withdraw from the delicate
-situation in which he had foolishly placed
-himself? There was, he decided, but one way.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>For a year, now, Salome Shepard had been
-making a deep and practical study of the mills
-and their operation. She had proved a wonderfully
-apt scholar, her womanly intuition often
-grasping, in a few minutes, details which he
-had been months in learning. He doubted if,
-should occasion require it, she could not run
-the mills alone. With Villard—honest, faithful
-soul!—to help her, Burnham felt that there
-was no longer any need of his services at the
-Shawsheen Mills. There was another superintendency
-in a mill at Lowell which stood
-open to him, whenever he chose to take it.
-There were some things about it that he would
-not like; but he must not remain on dangerous
-ground. He took great credit to himself
-as he reflected that honor required him not to
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_197'>197</span>trifle with Marion’s feelings another day. He
-virtuously decided to take himself out of her
-way. Once gone from her she would cease to
-feel his attraction and forget the tender scenes
-between them. He would resign his connection
-with the Shawsheen Mills.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>He sat down and wrote the letter of resignation.
-Then he went to bed and slept. He,
-like Villard, had kept awake hours for a
-woman. But he was not the man to conquer
-his selfish nature, or to grow stronger by
-fighting himself.</p>
-
-<hr class='c011'>
-
-<p class='c008'>The next morning Salome found Villard
-alone in the inner office of the mills. A note
-lay on her desk. It was Burnham’s resignation.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>She uttered an exclamation of surprise, and
-turned to Villard.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Did you know about this?” she asked,
-handing him the note.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Villard looked as astonished as though a
-dynamite bomb had exploded in the mill-yard.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Not a word,” he said. “But stay, he did
-hint at something, months ago; but I never
-gave it a second thought. ‘Decided that he
-is no longer needed on the works, and an
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_198'>198</span>opportunity having offered to better his condition.’
-H’m! Those are his reasons?
-Strange he hadn’t mentioned the matter to me
-although it <em>was</em> his own business.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“But what are we going to do? Can’t we
-get him back?” asked Salome.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“We can try,” was the reply, “but Burnham
-is a pretty determined fellow when he
-fairly makes up his mind. Shall I go over
-and see him?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“If you please. Tell him to come back
-with you; I want to persuade him to stay if I
-can.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Villard went over to Burnham’s house,
-but he had already gone to Lowell to complete
-arrangements to enter the new position.
-Mrs. Burnham knew nothing of either this
-plan or her son’s sudden resignation. Villard
-returned to Salome.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“What are we going to do,” she asked,
-“supposing he refuses to come back—even at
-an increased salary?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Don’t you think you and I can run the
-business alone for a while?” returned Villard,
-“at least until we can find a good man. Good
-superintendents don’t grow on every bush.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_199'>199</span>“Do you think I am capable of taking his
-place—with your help, of course?” Salome
-looked earnestly at him.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I think you are quite capable of doing
-anything noble and great,” he answered,
-fervently.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“With your help,” she said, in a low tone.
-“Of course I will do anything, and shall be
-only too proud,” she hastened to add, “if I
-have succeeded in learning enough of the
-business to be of any use.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Villard looked again at her averted eyes, and
-checked an impulse to say something more.
-Had he known a tenth as much of women as
-of cotton factories, his fortune and happiness
-had been in his own hands. But he honestly
-thought she had turned away her eyes and
-spoken the last sentence to turn him away from
-saying more; while she was saying to herself
-as she turned to her desk again:</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Will he never, never speak? It will come,
-some time, I am sure, but will he never dare?”</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_200'>200</span>
- <h2 class='c006'>XVII.</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c007'>Burnham returned to Shepardtown only to
-tell his mother that he should go to Lowell
-immediately. He had accepted the standing
-offer there, and expected to begin at once.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>In vain Salome offered him an increase of
-salary. And as he was evidently bent on
-going, she would not urge him to remain in
-her employ. But both she and Villard could
-assign but one reason for his sudden determination.
-Both felt sure that he had offered himself
-to Marion and that she had refused him.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Intimate as Salome and Marion were, no
-discussion of love-matters ever entered their
-conversation. With each, love was too high
-and sacred a thing to be bruited about, even
-in a conversation between friends. In their
-younger days, when Marion had shyly
-announced her engagement to a young law-student,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_201'>201</span>there had been no silly or sentimental
-waste of words between them on the subject.
-And now, perhaps because both women felt
-the stirrings of a deep passion in their inmost
-heart, no reference to the subject was ever
-made.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>When Salome went home to lunch, she told
-Marion of Burnham’s resignation; but beyond
-a momentary look of blank astonishment
-Marion’s face gave no sign. And Salome’s
-feeling for her friend was too deep and too
-delicate, to ask for what she did not choose to
-tell voluntarily.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Burnham would have been glad to leave
-town without risking himself in Marion’s
-presence again.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>He feared to trust himself with her, in the
-presence of the strange attraction she had held
-for him. But common courtesy demanded
-that he should call at the Mansion to leave
-his good-byes.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Marion heard the news of his resignation
-with a strange sinking of the heart. Something
-told her that this was the end of her
-foolish, happy dream. And although she
-loyally refused to acknowledge her doubts,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_202'>202</span>the strange presaging which was something
-more than presentiment lurked in her heart
-all day, and kept her uneasy and restless. She
-half expected Burnham to come in and by a
-few words settle the question of their relations.
-She even asked herself, how she could best
-leave Shepardtown if he insisted upon taking
-her to Lowell.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>But he did not come until evening. Then
-it happened, as events will in this strange
-world, that she was with her classes at the
-Hall. Salome was unusually tired that evening
-and had remained quietly at home. Burnham
-dropped in about eight o’clock, sat for
-half an hour with her and Mrs. Soule, and
-then bade them good-bye, leaving his adieu
-for Marion. He did not go to the Hall,
-although she half expected him all through the
-long evening. The next morning he took an
-early train for Lowell.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>When Marion came home she heard in
-amazement that Burnham had been there and
-gone. Salome gave her his word of parting.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“And was that all?” Marion asked, with
-strained voice and blazing cheeks.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“That was all. Tell me, dear,” asked
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_203'>203</span>Salome, for the first time, “was there any
-trouble between you? Had you anything to
-do with his going?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“No, nothing,” and Marion was gone to her
-room.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>On the first day of May, the experiment of
-profit-sharing was put into effect for the first
-time at the Shawsheen Mills. In spite of the
-strike, and the enforced idleness of several
-months which had followed, previous to the year
-just passed, this had been a successful one, and
-when the divisions for capital, machinery and reserve
-fund had been set aside, there still remained
-a surplus which gave a dividend of four and
-a half per cent. In some cases, this dividend
-on wages made a very considerable sum, and in
-all cases the operatives felt a new sensation of
-direct responsibility and connection with the
-mills. Besides the addition of this money to
-their wages, the feeling of brotherhood and
-ownership it engendered was, Villard declared,
-quite worth the experiment.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Another circular was sent out, urging the
-operatives to increased care in saving and
-painstaking in order that the dividend might
-be larger another year. And the good results
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_204'>204</span>of the plan were directly manifest in the work
-of nearly every employe.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>A little incident which occurred soon after
-this did much to convince the men of the
-changed relations in which they now stood
-towards their employers.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>An overseer had been tyrannizing over the
-spinners until they would endure it no longer.
-In Mr. Greenough’s day, it is more than probable
-that the matter would have culminated in
-a lock-out or a strike.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>But with the new order of things came a
-greater feeling of confidence in Villard. Five
-of the spinners, therefore, with the consent
-of the others, went personally to the superintendent.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>After hearing their story, Villard promised
-to settle their grievance, and quite a discussion
-of economic questions concerning Capital
-<em>versus</em> Labor followed.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“You men have labor to sell,” said Villard,
-“and we buy it. We have the products of
-your labor to sell, and the commission merchants
-and others buy it. As much courtesy
-and fair dealing should exist between us, as I
-like to have between us and the men to whom
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_205'>205</span>we sell. We would not take insolence from a
-broker’s clerk; you need not put up with the
-tyranny of an overseer.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>These words, repeated to the other employes,
-were the most powerful preventive against
-strikes ever tried in the Shawsheen Mills.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>As the summer advanced, other new cottages
-were built on the hill to accommodate the
-growing demand from the operatives. All
-those built the previous year were occupied,
-and many of them had been bought on the
-installment plan. Although the community
-around the Shawsheen factories, as it now
-existed, had come suddenly into its new relation,
-it already represented almost an ideal one.
-It was already a practical lesson in social
-economics, which many a reformer and many a
-capitalist would do well to study. To be a
-capitalist even in a small way is to learn to
-respect capital. The fact that these men
-owned their small plots of ground and their
-cottages (even if they were mortgaged for the
-greater part of their value) was already dignifying
-the laborer by the tangible proof of his
-own value.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>By this time, Salome had come to know
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_206'>206</span>every family who were in the employ of the
-mills. Was there trouble coming to any
-household, was there sickness, was there affliction
-among them, they all turned to her for
-help and sympathy, encouragement or congratulation.
-The smallest events—the birth
-of a baby, the progress of measles, the love
-affairs of the young, the querulous complaints
-of the old—were all of interest to her; and
-they, in return, appreciated her kindness and
-returned it with a loyalty of service that did
-her soul good.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Salome often declared, laughingly, that
-her relations to them were truly patriarchal.
-An atmosphere of content and friendliness
-prevailed where there had been jealousy and
-bickering.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The popular entertainments were kept up
-during the summer. There were concerts, at
-which local talent (often some operative who
-possessed the faculty of singing a song)
-appeared. Salome, herself, often presided at
-the piano, and Marion frequently lent her
-voice; their theory being that young people who
-took little or no vacation in summer needed
-some sort of recreation in summer as in winter.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_207'>207</span>Towards the close of the summer, as Salome
-came out of the Hall one evening, one of the
-young men came up to her side, and asked if
-he might speak to her alone.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Certainly,” she said; “Mr. Fales, will you
-walk ahead with Marion, while O’Donovan
-walks home with me?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>She remembered the young fellow perfectly.
-She had seen him first during the strike, a
-handsome young dare-devil who seemed, in
-fact, to be one of the ringleaders among the
-younger men. When the mills had re-opened,
-she had taken an uncommon interest in him.
-He was a faithful and industrious man, and
-when, after a few weeks of sneering at the
-“new-fangled notions,” he had settled into
-harmony with the strange atmosphere, he had
-tried to improve himself in many ways. When
-Villard took charge of the evening school,
-he had held aloof for a few weeks, but at
-last joined one of Fales’ classes. In their
-entertainments and dances, he had taken leading
-parts; and that day, Villard had offered
-him the post of overseer in one of the minor
-departments at the mills. It was quite a step
-up for the young man, and Villard had been
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_208'>208</span>surprised at his hesitation in accepting the
-offer.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Salome knew all this; and as she heartily
-liked the fellow, she determined to influence
-him for his own interest.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>O’Donovan was silent for some moments,
-after they started, doubtless being unaccustomed
-to escort ladies of her degree in that friendly
-way. But Salome soon put him at his ease by
-her kind and easy manner.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“And so you’re going to be promoted,” she
-said, after a little. “I hope you like that?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Miss Shepard,” he blurted out in confused
-speech, “that’s what I want to talk about.
-There’s something—I mean, I want to tell—I
-<em>ought</em> to tell you something, Miss Shepard.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Very well. It oughtn’t to be very difficult
-to do that,” and her tone was cordial and encouraging.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I don’t think I ought to take the position—unless
-you say so. But I expect you’ll put
-me in irons, if I tell you. Only—well, the
-other fellows would say I was a blasted fool—barrin’
-your presence, miss.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Why, John,” exclaimed Salome wonderingly.
-For the young man was in a great
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_209'>209</span>state of excitement. “What can it be?
-Surely, you know you need not be afraid of
-me?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“You remember the night some one tried
-to blow up the mill—and Mr. Greenough—and
-Mr. Villard——” Salome stood still and gazed
-through the summer moonlight at her strange
-escort. He did not look up, but stood like a
-culprit before her.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I don’t know how you managed to find
-out and save ’em,” he went on. “Miss
-Shepard—it was me.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“You? John O’Donovan!” For an instant
-there was silence.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Go on,” she said, when she could command
-her voice. “Tell me all.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“It was John Ross that planned it and put
-me up to it. When he died, I wondered if he
-hadn’t told you or Mr. Villard. Ever since
-then, I’ve been trying to, but somehow I
-couldn’t—tell Mr. Villard—nor you neither.—It
-was John Ross that planned it. He called
-me a coward and a scab—and, finally, well—you
-know I was a crazy fool then, with the
-rest of ’em.—It ain’t no use talkin’, miss, but
-we all discussed and brooded over things until
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_210'>210</span>we were half out of our heads. If any one of
-us had weakened first, we’d all give up, and the
-strike would have bu’st; but—well, ’tain’t no
-use talkin’, I s’pose. I’ve confessed, and you
-can have me put in irons, if you want to.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“How did you come to want to tell me,
-John?” Salome said softly.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Oh, miss, when I found how you saved the
-mill that night, and the lives of those two men,
-I went down on my knees with thankfulness.
-It somehow seemed to open my eyes to where
-I’d been standin’. Then, when the mills
-opened and you took us back, and when you
-commenced to take an interest in us; when
-you built that beautiful big Hall, and all
-them cottages; and, if you’ll pardon me for
-sayin’ it, when you begun walkin’ thro’ the
-mills yourself, speakin’ a pleasant word to us
-all and smilin’ at us as if we were all your
-equals, miss—and you a saint,——it was then
-I seemed no better’n a murderer. And when
-John Ross died, and the detectives gave up
-lookin’ for the men, it was bore in on me as
-how I ought to confess; and to-day, when Mr.
-Villard called me into the office and praised
-my work, and said I’d been faithful and trustworthy——<em>trustworthy</em>,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_211'>211</span>ma’am!—why, then,
-I couldn’t stand it no longer.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The young man stood silent in the moonlight.
-Salome’s eyes were filled with tears.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“John,” she said, “you are a noble fellow.
-It is no more than right that you should confess
-this to me, but not all fellows in your place
-could do it. You can because you have the
-making of a man in you.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The young man looked up.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“And what are you goin’ to do with me?”
-he asked.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Will you do just what I say?” returned
-Salome.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I will, indeed,” he said.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Then I want you to go to Mr. Villard to-morrow
-morning and tell him you accept the
-place. Then do your best, and deserve better
-things in future.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Miss Shepard!” Young O’Donovan fairly
-gasped.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“John,” she went on, and she seemed to him
-like the pictures of saints in the church, as she
-stood in her white gown in the silvery light,
-“if your scheme had succeeded, you would not
-only have destroyed most valuable property of
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_212'>212</span>mine; you would have killed two of my dearest
-friends; but you have turned over a new
-leaf. I feel sure that nothing will ever induce
-you to consent to anything of the kind again.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Never, so help me Heaven!” he exclaimed,
-fervently.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Now, you have confessed like a man, I
-will forgive like a woman. You will accept
-the new place. You will go on studying and
-improving yourself, and some day I shall be
-proud of you, and you will be proud that you
-once had the manliness to come to me and
-confess a crime. Now, we will bury the thing
-forever, and never speak of it again. Only
-promise me you will go to Mr. Villard in the
-morning and do as I ask you.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I promise,” said the young man solemnly.
-Then he dropped on his knees and seizing her
-hand, bent his head reverently upon it.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“If the God in Heaven above is like you,”
-he said, “He is a God worth serving.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“My poor forgiveness resembles His, John,
-only as a drop of rain resembles the mighty
-ocean.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>They walked silently home, and O’Donovan
-left her with a new purpose in his heart that
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_213'>213</span>has never left it since. He is to-day a thriving
-Christian gentleman. Dare any one say it
-would have been better to condemn him as a
-law-breaker?</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Nobody but a woman, I suppose, would
-have dealt justice so,” said Salome to herself,
-as she put out her light an hour later, and
-turned to the window—“nobody but John
-Villard.”</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_214'>214</span>
- <h2 class='c006'>XVIII.</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c007'>A year rolled by—a year of prosperity to
-the Shawsheen Mills, and of growth and improvement
-in the condition of their operatives.
-John Villard had been made first superintendent
-and a new man had taken his place.
-Salome continued to act as her own agent and
-had developed a keen love and tact for the
-business,—a condition of affairs which Mrs.
-Soule never ceased to bemoan.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The young people at the Hall were more than
-ever the dearest objects of her solicitude. In
-most cases, their elevation had been steady and
-substantial. Young men had become self-respecting
-and carried themselves with increased
-dignity. Young women gradually grew less
-frivolous and more earnest. Thrown together
-under so much better conditions than formerly,
-both sexes emulated the politeness which they
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_215'>215</span>were quick to notice between Villard and Salome.
-They became more quiet and decorous; they
-read a better class of books; they began, in their
-way, to cultivate higher tastes than had been
-known in the old factory boarding-house or
-among the tumble-down tenement houses. Several
-marriages had taken place, at which Salome
-had acted as the girl’s guardian, giving away
-the bride. Young O’Donovan’s was the first of
-these. His increased pay as overseer enabled
-him to marry Kitty Kendall, to whom he had
-long been devoted; and the young bridegroom
-was even happier than the bride when Salome
-offered to act in that capacity. Neither of
-them would have dared ask it of her, but her
-evident willingness to act on this occasion encouraged
-those who came after, until Salome
-said she felt all the responsibilities of a mother
-with a large family of daughters.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>As Villard saw all this marrying and giving
-in marriage, he grew, at times, more restless.
-There were occasions when he came suddenly
-upon Salome, or, perhaps during their rare
-talks together, when he felt sure for a moment
-that she felt for him more than a friendly
-interest. But, remembering his comparative
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_216'>216</span>poverty, he never spoke the one word which
-would have broken down all barriers. And
-Salome successfully concealed her feeling for
-him, not daring, even, to examine it herself.
-So they had drifted on, more than friends and
-less than lovers, through another year.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>There came, at last, the first period of
-absence from each other since Mr. Greenough’s
-death. Daily association, pleasant as it is, cannot
-teach lovers how much they love, as can a
-short separation.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The second dividend of the mills had been
-declared, each operative getting three and a
-half per cent., this time, on their wages. When
-the work consequent on this transaction was
-closed up, it was decided to put new machinery
-in the lower mills. There was an improved
-kind in one of the Holyoke mills, and it was
-decided that Villard should go, personally, to
-examine its workings, leaving Salome and the
-second superintendent alone for a few days.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Villard had made his preparations to start
-with a strange sinking at the heart. He was
-not a man to indulge in silly presentiment, but
-he could not feel any enthusiasm about going.
-He had not taken two days away from the
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_217'>217</span>mills in two years, and was justly entitled to a
-vacation; but every time he thought of going
-to Holyoke, his heart sank within him.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>He thought it was because he must leave
-Salome, and chided himself for his sentimental
-fancies. He told himself to be a man; not a
-silly fool. And, finally, he refused to think of
-his premeditated journey, since he could not do
-so comfortably.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>He was to leave Shepardtown on a seven-thirty
-express, west. Salome remained at
-the office unusually late that afternoon. She
-made him go carefully over her various duties,
-and recount, over and over again, everything
-necessary for her to say or do while he was
-gone.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The other superintendent was called away
-early, and she was left alone with Villard in the
-inner office, the clerks coming in and out and
-Marion dropping in once on a trifling errand.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Finally, she said:</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Well, I suppose I must bid you good-bye.
-I hope you won’t be gone long.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>She held out her hand and Villard took it.
-A subtle fire shot from it straight to Villard’s
-heart. He looked up. Were her eyes, so soft
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_218'>218</span>and kind, suffused with tears? Was this the
-strong, self-reliant Salome?</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Miss Shepard, Salome,” he burst out, incoherently,
-“I——”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Come right in this way,” said a hearty
-voice at the other door. “Villard will tell you
-what you want to know——”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Good-bye,” said Salome again, in the most
-matter-of-fact tone, releasing her hand just in
-time, as the other superintendent ushered in a
-buyer from the west. “Good-bye and good
-luck;” and turning, she walked away with
-the nonchalant air which a woman knows so
-well how to assume, even at the most serious
-moment of her life.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Poor Villard was both confused and exalted
-by the sudden dawn of blessedness, which had
-as suddenly faded. He turned to the buyer
-but was incoherent, and gave wrong prices on
-the last shipment of cotton, so that his customer
-felt obliged to call him back to his
-senses by a not over-delicate allusion to the
-parting he was shrewd enough to guess he had
-interrupted.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Salome went home in a strangely depressed
-mood. She ate but little dinner, and excusing
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_219'>219</span>herself early in the evening on the plea of
-unusual weariness, she retired to her room, undressed
-and donned a silken night-wrapper,
-only to lie awake all night, worrying herself
-with fruitless questioning. In the watches of
-the night and under cover of the dark, she
-told herself that she had given her heart unsought;
-that had Villard loved her as she did
-him, nothing could have kept him from saying
-so; that she had been vain and conceited in
-fancying that, under his quiet demeanor, he
-loved her.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Then she remembered his sudden, yearning
-look when he had grasped her hand, and that,
-from the depths of his great, manly heart, he
-had called her “Salome.” And then, woman-like,
-she shed a few hot tears of gratitude and
-impatience.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Marion Shaw, meanwhile, had gone to the
-Hall alone that evening. Her work among
-the mill-girls had grown dearer to her heart
-with every month. Most of the girls loved
-her now, and looked upon her as a comrade,
-though walking on much higher ground
-than they. Many of them had secret aspirations
-to reach the standard of her ideals, as
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_220'>220</span>they dimly conceived it, and were the better
-for trying.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Marion had not had a long fight with herself
-when weeks had rolled into months, and
-she heard no word from Burnham.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>She had always been an individual girl—one
-who thought for herself, who set high ideals
-for herself, who believed that one only does
-one’s duty by living at one’s highest and noblest.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>When she was a mere girl she had become
-acquainted with a young college-student, and
-their friendship ripened into love. When she
-became engaged to Ralph Leland, Marion
-looked upon her betrothal as no less sacred
-than a marriage vow. When, after a few
-years of study and close confinement in a
-theological seminary, Leland had shown
-symptoms of consumption and been ordered to
-Colorado, her mother was slowly nearing her
-death, with the same disease. It had wrung
-her heart with anguish to decide between them,
-but Leland had said:</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Stay with your mother, Marion. She
-cannot live long and needs you with her to the
-end. I shall live many years, and, I feel confident,
-may yet entirely recover. It is hard,
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_221'>221</span>but your mother can have but a year or two
-at the most. I hope to live for many years.
-And we could neither of us be happy if we
-remembered her here, sorrowing and suffering
-alone.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>And so Marion had staid to nurse her dying
-mother, and Ralph Leland had gone west to
-seek health and strength. In two months he
-was seized with congestion of the lungs and
-died suddenly, away from all friends and apart
-from her.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>What Marion suffered at this time, only a
-woman can understand. What she endured,
-only a woman who has gone down into the
-blackness of despair can conceive. Her
-mother failing gradually, her lover gone, what
-wonder that, for a time, life seemed a blank?</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>After the first, she had not talked about
-Ralph, but nursed his memory silently, day
-and night. For eighteen months, she took
-sole care of her mother, seeing her slip away
-into the “great unknown,” inch by inch.
-Never did the mother realize that she was
-going to die, and she constantly made plans for
-the next season when she was going to be “so
-much better.” Often Marion, knowing she
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_222'>222</span>was soon to be motherless, would leave her low
-seat near her mother, and stand behind the
-invalid’s chair to hide the tears that welled
-up, even while she agreed with the invalid’s
-plans.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Day by day, the gnawing agony of seeing
-her mother slowly dying before her melted
-into and overshadowed the loss of that love
-which was to have shielded and defended her
-till death. But she never gave way, before
-mortal eyes, to her sorrow; and she never
-failed to minister to the mother who so needed
-her care.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>By and by she was left alone. Then, for
-the first time, did the awful sense of loss overpower
-her. For days she did not sleep or
-take any nourishment. Then she rallied and
-girded herself for the struggle for existence
-which such women must make, and which, in
-her case, had been eased by the door which
-Salome had opened to her.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Through all her trials and discouragement,
-Ralph Leland had been a present reality to her.
-Even since the first blackness of darkness she
-had believed that somewhere, somehow, she
-would meet him as of old, and they would live
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_223'>223</span>again for each other. Then she came to
-believe that he loved her still, wherever in
-God’s great universe he might be.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“When he was in Colorado,” she used to
-say to herself, “I never had a doubt that he
-loved me still. If he had gone to the farthest
-corner of the earth I should not have dreamed
-of his forgetting me. Why should I now,
-when he has only gone to a remoter part of the
-universe?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>This thought was the one, calm, sustaining
-help to her in all her work. And in this belief
-she was strong to take up any burden which
-might be laid upon her.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>When she came to Shepardtown and met
-Burnham, she had been struck by the subtle,
-strange resemblance to Ralph which she saw in
-him. It was more than the mere resemblance
-of feature. It was the resemblance of expression,
-of looks, of the intangible essence of life.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>From this point on, so long as she came in
-daily contact with Burnham, she was fascinated
-by this ever-recurring resemblance; sometimes
-she was half-persuaded that it was Leland who
-talked or sang to her, and she sat watching him
-in dreamy remembrance of the old days, before
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_224'>224</span>her mother or Ralph had sickened. As she grew
-gradually to believe that Burnham loved her,
-she thanked Heaven that a good man’s love was
-to brighten her life once more. When the
-veil was rent away, and she saw that Burnham
-was not the true, white-souled knight she had
-thought him, and realized that he was not the
-ideal she had believed and trusted in, she was
-surprised to find that she no longer loved him.
-And then she thought out the true solution.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>On the night of Villard’s departure, as has
-been said, Marion had gone to the work she
-most delighted in—her work among the girls.
-There were classes to be overlooked, and her
-own special one in singing to be taught. She
-was half through the musical hour, when she
-turned suddenly towards the door. There
-stood Geoffrey Burnham.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Afterwards she remembered how little feeling
-the sight of him caused her. But then she
-said pleasantly:</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Oh, won’t you walk in and hear us sing?
-My girls have made decided improvement since
-you heard us last,” and she went on composedly
-with the class.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Burnham looked on wonderingly. As he
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_225'>225</span>watched this self-possessed young woman, his
-old passion flamed up within him. He had
-never cared for her as at that moment. When
-the class was over, she advanced toward him.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Aren’t you going to shake hands with a
-fellow?” he said, holding out his own.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Certainly,” she said, without the least emotion.
-He would have retained his hold upon
-her hand, but she withdrew it, saying:</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“To what accident are we indebted for this
-unexpected pleasure?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I came,” he said, “on business. I must
-see Villard. But they tell me he won’t be
-home for several days. There’s a certain combination
-of forces we want to get him into, if
-possible.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“You won’t, you know,” laughed Marion,
-“unless it’s for the good of the working-men.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Well, it is,” answered Burnham. “A
-society is being planned for Lowell, which will
-do for the operatives there something like that
-which Villard and Salome and you have been
-doing here. I said I would come down and
-consult with him to-night. Besides, I——can’t
-you guess any other reason for my coming?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Oh, plenty of them,” replied Marion indifferently.
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_226'>226</span>“I suppose you feel a friendship for
-all who were once your people, and rather want
-to see them once more.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Not that, at all,” said he significantly,
-determined now that she should hear him out.
-“Are you going home? May I walk down
-with you?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Marion gave her permission and went for
-her wraps. She half felt what was coming,
-but she was strangely apathetic.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>When they were out under the stars, the
-talk began in commonplaces; but Burnham
-soon veered it round where he chose.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Why are you so cold?” he asked, half
-querulously.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Cold?” she repeated, purposely misunderstanding
-him. “I’m not cold. This wrap I
-have on is warmer than it looks.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“And your heart,—is that?” retorted he.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Marion did not answer.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“You know I love you. I—know you once
-loved me,” he went on, losing his head, as a
-consequence of her indifference. “Perhaps
-you resented my treating you as I did. Perhaps
-I didn’t do right, going off that way,
-without a word; but I thought it better
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_227'>227</span>so. You see—my mother,—and I,—Marion
-Shaw!”—he seized her hand, grasping it in
-both his own—“will you marry me?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Marion withdrew her hand.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>It was cool, and she felt like a spectator at
-stage theatricals which did not concern her.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Marion, you did love me, you can’t deny
-it!” he said. “What is the trouble?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I’m sorry you have brought this subject up
-to-night,” she said, gently. “It had much
-better have remained dead and buried.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Marion Shaw, you shall not evade me so,”
-retorted Burnham, led on by her steady refusal
-to respond to his passion. “You did love me—I
-was sure of it—or else, you are the basest
-of coquettes, and were playing with me. And
-now you are tired of me!”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“As you were of me!” she blazed out, now
-roused into speech. “Listen, since you dare
-address me as you do. I did not love you.
-You thought I did. I thought I did. When
-you found it convenient for some reason, I
-neither know nor care what, to leave me without
-a word, I found, for the first time, that I
-was only in love with <em>being</em> in love. No,—wait
-until I am through. Ten years ago I became
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_228'>228</span>engaged to the bravest and best and truest man
-that ever lived.” Marion’s voice broke, but she
-went on. “He died and I kept on loving his
-memory, loving him wherever he might be.
-When I met you, the striking resemblance you
-bore to him smote me like an electric shock.
-You seemed good and noble like him, and
-under the glamour of your constant presence
-and evident fancy for me, I allowed myself to
-drift into a sentimental feeling for you. I now
-see what that feeling was. It was only a love
-of being in love; and you happened to be the
-one man I have met so far, and I hope the
-only one I shall ever meet, capable of calling
-that feeling out. You have compelled me to
-speak plainly. I hope you are satisfied. This
-is our gate. Miss Shepard has retired, but she
-will be glad to see you at the office in the
-morning. Good-night.” And Marion left
-him standing rooted to the ground where she
-left him.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>For a few days Burnham felt himself a badly
-used man. He had loved and his love had
-been trampled on, he said to himself.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>He went back to Lowell the next day, promising
-to write Villard; and a week after, when he
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_229'>229</span>had settled down at home again with his dainty
-and querulous mother, he went calmly over the
-ground of his defeat.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“She never did a more sensible thing in her
-life,” he declared, as he lighted his pipe, at
-last. “It would have been an awful bore to
-have to live up to her ideal.”</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_230'>230</span>
- <h2 class='c006'>XIX.</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c007'>Three days passed at the mills with no
-special incident. To Salome they seemed the
-dullest she had ever known. For the first time,
-she discovered that the Shawsheen Mills and
-the condition of its operatives was not enough
-to satisfy the inmost longings of her heart, or
-to still its disquietude. Without the presence
-of John Villard, and the constant inspiration
-of his presence, life lost its zest and sparkle.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>When the three days were over, Salome went
-to her pillow at night with a sense of relief.
-Until now, she had not realized what her position
-at the head of the mills might mean without
-Villard. She saw that without him she
-could have done little, and would have made
-many mistakes—a fact which it was good for
-her to realize. And then she remembered,
-with sudden terror, that he might leave her at
-any moment, as Burnham had done.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_231'>231</span>“He will be home in the morning,” she said
-to her disquieted heart, “and I will offer him
-a share in the business. I will make him a
-partner, and then I shall never lose him.”
-And even in the darkness of night and the
-privacy of her own room, she resolutely put
-away from herself any other contingency.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The morning dawned beautiful, fresh and
-balmy, as only a spring morning late in May
-can dawn in New England. Salome dressed
-herself with unusual care. A strange, happy
-feeling under-ran all her thoughts. She would
-not think of him; she would not look forward
-to his coming; but, for her, all the gladness of
-the May morning, all the blossoming of spring
-flowers, all the caroling of joyous birds, meant
-only that Villard had arrived in Shepardtown
-on the night express, and that she would see him
-in an hour or two. She did not hurry her
-preparations for breakfast,—this was such a
-strange, delightful mood. She looked at her
-own reflection in the mirror, thinking unconsciously
-of making herself fair for him. She
-sang snatches of merry song from the last
-comic opera, laughing to herself as she recalled
-how her nurse used to forbid her singing before
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_232'>232</span>the morning meal, and how she used to repeat,
-in a lugubrious tone, the old sign:</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c012'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>“If you sing before breakfast,</div>
- <div class='line'>You’ll cry before night.”</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c013'>And, still singing, she stopped at her aunt’s
-room, only to find that everybody had gone
-downstairs before her.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Mrs. Soule and Marion were chatting pleasantly
-over their hot-house grapes when she
-entered the breakfast-room. The morning
-papers lay untouched beside Salome’s plate.
-She took her place and leisurely pared an
-orange. Afterwards she remembered the time
-she wasted in cutting the peel into fantastic
-shapes.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Has nobody looked at the papers?” she
-asked, after a while. “I declare, how self-absorbed
-we are growing. Who knows but
-the world has, half of it, come to an end, over
-night?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>She picked up one of the papers—the one
-which contained the most startling head-lines,
-the most sickening sensations. Opening it, her
-eyes became riveted to the front page. Her
-face paled. She grew whiter, but no one
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_233'>233</span>noticed. When Marion looked up, the paper was
-falling from Salome’s hand, and she had fallen
-back in her chair—faint, speechless with terror.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>With a cry, Marion sprang to her side; but
-Salome, by a tremendous effort, recovered herself.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Read it,” she gasped, “and tell me what
-to do.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Marion picked up the paper, and read:</p>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
- <div class='nf-center'>
- <div>HORRIBLE ACCIDENT ON THE ALBANY ROAD.</div>
- <div class='c003'><span class='sc'>Thirteen Killed and Twenty Wounded.</span></div>
- <div class='c003'><span class='sc'>Terrible Slaughter due to Carelessness.</span></div>
- <div class='c003'><span class='sc'>Prominent Business Men of Boston and Shepardtown among the Injured.</span></div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c008'>Running her eye hastily down the column,
-Marion gathered that the night express had
-been crashed into by a heavy freight; that
-both trains had been thrown off the track;
-that many passengers had been killed, scalded,
-mangled or bruised.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>She looked quickly over the list of killed.
-There were no familiar names; but at the head
-of the wounded was:</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_234'>234</span>“John Villard of Shepardtown. Fatally
-injured. Impossible to recover.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>She turned to Salome, who was already leaving
-the table.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Help me to get ready,” she said. “I must
-go to him immediately.” Marion marveled to
-see her so calm; but she knew only too well the
-anguish concealed in the woman’s heart below.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“What is it? What are you going to do?
-Why does not some one tell me?” asked Mrs.
-Soule.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Dear auntie,” and Salome bent and kissed
-the fair, soft cheek, “there has been a terrible
-accident to the train that Mr. Villard was
-coming home on. I am going to him. He is
-dying.” Then she left the room.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>In less than an hour she was at the railway
-station, waiting for the train to Boston. At
-the last moment, Mrs. Soule, having recovered
-from the shock which the news had given her,
-had tried to dissuade her niece from going.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>It seemed to her that this was the strangest
-thing her unaccountable niece had ever done.
-She really must remonstrate with her on the
-impropriety of her conduct. And seeing that
-Salome would not be restrained from making
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_235'>235</span>this erratic trip, she proposed to go, too, as
-chaperon. Only Salome must wait for the
-noon train, as she could not possibly get ready
-for an earlier one.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“The noon train!” exclaimed Salome, buttoning
-her gloves. “No, auntie, Mr. Villard
-may not live until then. I shall go to him at
-once. You forget that I am no longer a young
-girl. I am a business woman, and my chief
-assistant lies dying.” She bent over and kissed
-her aunt, who was still remonstrating, and ran
-down the steps to the waiting carriage, where
-Marion had already taken her seat.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Marion, too, had offered to go with her; but
-Salome had only replied:</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“No, dear. If you will take my place here,
-that is all I ask.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>And when the train finally drew out of
-Shepardtown, and she had left her friend standing
-on the platform, she gave an involuntary
-sigh. Only the strong heart, which can best
-bear its grief alone, will understand her feeling.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The train had never seemed so slow to her.
-Strained and anxious with that nervous intensity
-which makes a woman waste her strength
-in a half-conscious physical effort to propel, by
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_236'>236</span>her own will-power, the great, unsympathetic,
-methodical engine, she sat straight up in her
-seat with heart and soul benumbed. Constantly
-before her, was the picture of John Villard—mangled,
-bleeding, dying—perhaps dead.
-Her brain reeled as she thought of him lying
-pale and cold in death.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>She remembered how, only three days ago,
-he had clasped her hand and looked into her
-eyes; how he had called her “Salome,” his
-voice deep and tender with emotion. Dead?
-No, it could not be. And still the long, unfeeling
-train stopped to take on its horde of
-passengers, or to let off a working-man or a
-school-girl.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The hour’s ride to Boston seemed to her an
-eternity; and when, at last, they rolled into the
-long, covered shed, Salome was first to reach
-the steps, and first to touch the platform.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Ordering a carriage, she was soon on her way
-across the city. But here again the slowness
-of her progress drove her nearly frantic. She
-called to the driver and told him she would
-double his fee if he caught the next train for
-the scene of the accident. He did not know
-what time that would be, but he accepted the
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_237'>237</span>offer and drove at such a rate of speed that an
-agent of the Humane Society ran after him to
-catch his number,—and did not succeed.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>When they reached the Albany station,
-Salome threw him the smallest bill she had, a
-two-dollar one,—and without waiting for the
-change, hastened to the ticket-office. It was
-beset with more than the usual crowd of curious
-questioners and eager passengers, whose plans
-the accident had thrown into confusion. It
-was some minutes before Salome could reach
-the window. She was about to turn away in
-despair when the agent recognized her.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Let that lady pass, there,” he said, authoritatively;
-and then Salome learned that a
-relief train had been sent early in the morning,
-that another would be starting in ten minutes,
-and that regular trains would be run in the
-course of an hour or two, “carrying by,” at
-Jones’s Crossing, where the accident had
-occurred.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“And the injured ones, are they still——”
-her voice failed her.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“They are still living,” answered the agent.
-“But some of them are so badly hurt they
-must die. Stand back there, one minute,” he
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_238'>238</span>said to the crowd. “Well, I don’t know, miss,
-whether you could go on the relief train. You
-might go out and ask, though they’ve shut
-down on the crowd.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Salome turned away. For the first time since
-breakfast a clear thought came into her brain.
-She went out to the train-gate.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>No, they could not take any one. There
-were so many wanting to go, and they only
-took one car. Oh, a friend of the injured?
-Well, she must go to the division superintendent,
-or the general passenger agent. There
-was the “G. P. A.” over there.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Salome walked over to the official designated,—a
-pleasant gentleman with kind eyes.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I am Miss Shepard of Shepardtown,” she
-said; “my chief superintendent is among the injured,
-and is probably dying. He has no friends,
-and I must get to him. Can you help me?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The official took out a little book, wrote her
-name on a blank pass, and handed it to her.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Anything we can do for him or for you,
-Miss Shepard, we shall be glad to do. You
-needn’t hesitate to ask. Your grandfather
-was once kind to me, when I was a poor boy.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The passenger agent hurried away to the
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_239'>239</span>engine, giving some last orders, and Salome
-did not have a chance to thank him.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“You’ll have to hurry, miss,” a brakeman said
-who was standing near. “The train is going.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>A moment later she was on the way for
-Jones’s Crossing.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>This train had the right of way and a clear
-track for some distance. They seemed to fly,
-as they sped out through the suburbs into the
-country beyond.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The bloom of the May morning was still on
-the tender, up-springing grass and the fresh
-foliage of the trees. Birds sang cheerfully on,
-in spite of the thundering engine on its way to
-the scene of woe. But there was no more
-beauty in the world for Salome.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Three or four physicians sat in the corner
-of the one baggage-car which they all occupied
-together, and, used as they were to scenes of
-death and suffering, talked indifferently of
-politics and the misdoings of Congress. The
-brakeman laughed as the conductor passed
-him with some trivial remark. To Salome it
-seemed that she alone, of all the world, cared
-because thirteen persons lay dead and twenty
-more were fatally injured, a few miles away.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_240'>240</span>Afterwards, when she saw the tenderness
-and courageous sympathy of these people
-among the suffering, she reversed her judgment.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>A small woman in black sat at the opposite
-end of the car, and was the only other passenger.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Who is that?” She stopped the conductor
-to ask the question, at last drawn out of her
-own sorrow by the pathetic attitude of the
-woman’s figure.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“That’s the engineer’s mother. He is
-fatally hurt. He’s the last of her five boys,
-and her sole dependence. It’s pretty rough on
-her; but the boys won’t let her suffer.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>His words came like a reproach to her.
-What right had she, with all her wealth and
-friends and pleasures, to think of herself as the
-only suffering one? What was her sorrow,
-compared to that of this bereaved mother?</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>She felt an impulse to go over to the motionless
-figure and speak a word of comfort. And
-then she felt the train slacking up.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“We’re almost there,” the conductor said,
-as he passed her again.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>When the train stopped, two of the physicians,
-having heard who she was, came forward with
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_241'>241</span>offers of assistance. The others were kindly
-aiding the pathetic old lady in black.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>And then Salome found herself face to face
-with such a scene as she had never even dreamed
-of.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>The public is, through the “enterprising”
-journalistic system of the present day, already
-too familiar with such scenes of sickening horror.
-To Salome, this one came as the vivid realization
-of things she had hitherto carefully avoided
-in the newspapers.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>At first, she turned faint and sick at the
-prospect. Several dead bodies lay plainly in
-sight, partially covered with a blanket. The
-living must first be cared for; and groans on
-every side, from those who, even yet, had
-not been extricated from the debris, told how
-much still remained to be done.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Tell me,” she said, catching at the arm of a
-doctor who had been on the ground since daybreak,
-“where is Mr. Villard?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Villard? Let’s see—tall man? Dark
-hair and full beard? Yes. He was removed
-to the tavern over there an hour ago.” And
-he passed on to another sufferer.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Salome looked across the railroad track, in
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_242'>242</span>the direction the physician had pointed. There
-was a country store, a “tavern,” and three or
-four less pretentious buildings.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Hastily she clambered over the torn-up track,
-down the embankment and across the narrow,
-open field. There were no signs of life around
-the group of houses. Everybody was at the
-scene of the accident.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>She walked into the tavern. It seemed to be
-deserted. Through the narrow hall she could
-see, at the end of the building, a dining-room;
-at one side was the office, where no one was in
-view. The clerk heard her step, however, and
-came hastily from the dining-room.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Is there a Mr. Villard here?” she began—“a
-patient, from the accident?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“There are three men upstairs who were
-hurt,” the clerk answered. “There’s no one
-here to tend office, or I’d show you up.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I must find him. Is there no one to show
-me the way?” she asked, impatient at this
-last trivial delay.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“They’re each in different rooms up there,”
-was the reply. “Walk right up the stairs.
-There’s nurses up there. They’ll tell you.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Salome turned up the narrow, dingy staircase.
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_243'>243</span>At the top there was no one in sight.
-Groans came from behind a closed door. Inside,
-she could hear voices, subdued to an
-undertone. In the absolute silence, she heard
-the word “amputation.” Could this be Villard’s
-room?</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>She leaned against the wall, unable to try
-that latch. While she stood there, helpless and
-dazed, she lifted her eyes to the opposite doorway.
-It was open.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Inside, there seemed to be no one. Certainly
-there was no attendant. She stepped forward
-and looked in. There, on the white, clean bed,
-lay the form of John Villard, his face whiter
-than the pillow it rested against, his dark hair
-contrasting strangely with his paleness.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>With the sight, all the repressed love of the
-last two years swept over Salome like a resistless
-impulse. A hand seemed clutching at her
-heart. Her limbs seemed paralyzed; but in an
-instant she was beside the bed, looking down
-at the closed eyes. A terrible fear that he was
-dead swept over her. With an inarticulate
-groan, she knelt beside him and laid her hand
-against his face.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>He opened his eyes and smiled faintly. He
-thought he had died and reached Heaven.</p>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
- <span class='pageno' id='Page_244'>244</span>
- <h2 class='c006'>XX.</h2>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c007'>Villard’s convalescence was slow and tedious.
-When Salome had found him, his dislocated
-shoulder had been restored to place, and his
-broken ankle set. Then, as there were not
-nurses enough for the great need, he had been
-left alone.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>What passed in that first ten minutes after
-Salome had found him is still a sacred
-memory between them. At last, she said, looking
-at him through wet eyes, “You must have
-a nurse.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Oh, Salome, do not leave me,” he answered;
-and his voice, weakened from his
-injuries and tender with the passion which, at
-last, he had not been afraid to declare, was
-like music to her heart.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>She bent her blushing face upon the pillow
-beside him. “May I stay and take care of
-you?” she asked, softly.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_245'>245</span>“May you? Oh, Salome!”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Another silence fell between them. Both
-hearts were too full for words.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Then we must be married to-day.” Salome
-had waited a little for him to say it; but, manlike,
-he had not been thinking of the proprieties.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I cannot leave you to hired nurses now,”
-she murmured. “So, there is only this one
-way out of it.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“And a blessed way it is.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>And so they were married, that bright
-May morning, amid scenes of anguish, and
-while Villard still hovered near the gates of
-death. And for weeks they remained at
-“Jones’s Tavern,” he ill, wretched, racked with
-pain; she, bearing the trials and discomforts of
-the place, vigils of long night-watches, the dull,
-dragging anxiety; and yet, there was never a
-happier or more blessed honeymoon.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>When he was able to be moved on a
-stretcher, he was taken to Shepardtown. Their
-home-coming was a glad one, although it was
-necessarily quiet. Every operative in the mills
-had been at the station, when the train that
-bore the two who had done so much for them
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_246'>246</span>came steaming in. Salome nodded to many of
-them, with moist but happy eyes. But the
-family physician, who had met them in Boston,
-would allow of no hand-shaking.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Time enough for that by and by,” he
-told the men who stood foremost in the crowd.
-“Do you want to kill him?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>He could not prevent several of the strongest
-ones from stepping forward, however, and
-taking the stretcher in their own hands, and bearing
-Villard very gently to the waiting carriage.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I never thought to enter this house so,”
-Villard whispered to Salome, when he was
-carefully borne up the stairs in the Shepard
-mansion and placed tenderly in bed.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Thank Heaven, you were permitted to
-come, even <em>so</em>,” she replied, with a shudder.
-He had been so near Death’s door, instead!</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I can’t and won’t say I approve of what
-you’ve done,” said Mrs. Soule that night. “If
-you must marry him at all, I could not see why
-you should want to do it then and there. You
-might have waited, I think, and had such a
-wedding as befits a daughter of the Bourdillons.
-Besides, all this watching and care has
-pulled you down. You look pale and worn.
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_247'>247</span>You’ll lose your beauty before you are thirty-five.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Salome did not answer. These matters
-seemed so trivial.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I suppose, at least, you’ll give a reception
-when he gets well enough. You really owe it
-to society and your own position. All your
-father’s, your mother’s, and your own friends
-will expect it. You have planned for that, I
-suppose? Since you had no wedding gown, you
-ought to give Redfern <i><span lang="fr">carte blanche</span></i> for your
-reception gown. Have you written them?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Auntie,” said Salome, “John and I have
-been, in these past weeks, where we did not
-think of party gowns.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“No, I suppose there was not much at
-Jones’s Crossing to remind you of them. But
-now, you certainly are thinking of one <em>now</em>?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Salome sighed. There was really no use in
-expecting her little, exquisite, cameo-cut aunt
-to understand her.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I suppose we may give some sort of reception.
-All my people are waiting anxiously to
-see John,” she said.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Factory-people!” exclaimed Mrs. Soule
-indignantly; but her niece had moved away.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_248'>248</span>It was several weeks later, when Villard was
-first able to come downstairs. As soon as
-possible for him to bear the excitement, the
-operatives were invited to the house one evening,
-and permitted to shake hands with the man
-whom they had always considered their friend,
-and to whom they had now become closely endeared.
-The marriage between him and
-Salome had, somehow, seemed to draw him
-closer to them. They were now his people as
-well as hers.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“This isn’t going to take you away from us
-at the Hall?” said one of the young men during
-the evening. “Mr. Fales and Mr. Welman
-are good—but they are not you.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I shall be there every evening,” was Villard’s
-reply. “I am much more anxious not
-to lose you than you can be not to lose me.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I don’t know about that,” the younger one
-said.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>When they had all gone away, and Marion
-had sent them both upstairs for the night,
-Salome drew her husband down to her favorite
-seat in a cosy bay-window, where the August
-moon was streaming in through vines and foliage,
-making a checkered radiance around them.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_249'>249</span>“John,” she began, “I have a plan to tell
-you.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“What is it, dear?” he asked, drawing her
-head to his shoulder.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I am going to retire from active business.”
-She laughed softly.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“What <em>can</em> you mean?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Can’t you see? I’m going to retire. You
-are now the head of the Shawsheen Mills.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Villard said nothing. In spite of the great
-love between them, he could not forget that
-she was wealthy nor that he was poor.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I have to-day made over the entire mill property
-to you,” she went on. “I am not
-going to have it said that your wife has all the
-money and all the power, and that you are
-only her dependent.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Salome! you dear, generous heart,” said
-Villard brokenly; “I cannot accept.” He
-felt that she had divined his sensitiveness,
-although she had been too delicate to speak of
-it. “I am poor, but I am not a beggar.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“And I, too, am proud,” she replied, laying
-her hand on his cheek. “I will not have
-people saying that you are tied to a rich wife
-and are subject to her whims. Oh, I know
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_250'>250</span>how they talk; I have seen and heard them
-all my life! Why, they would say you were
-a fortune-hunter.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“You do not think so?” he asked, gently.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Confess, dear,” she answered him. “If it
-had not been for that, wouldn’t you have
-spoken long ago?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Villard pressed her closer.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I came very near it, as it was,” he said,
-presently. “But I could not bear to be
-thought that.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I had the necessary papers made out this
-afternoon,” she said after an eloquent silence,
-“when I was out. So you see the thing is
-done whether you will or not. You need have
-no hesitation. I still have a large fortune left,
-you know, from the Bourdillons.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“If it were anybody else in the world but
-my noble, generous wife,” he began, “I would
-refuse, even now.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“If it were any one else but my noble
-husband,” she replied, “I could not yield
-control of the mills, and all the plans I have
-cherished for the employes. But I know in
-whom I trust,” and her eyes shone with wifely
-pride and affection.</p>
-
-<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_251'>251</span>“There are still so many things to do,” said
-Villard, a little later. “I know I can always
-depend on you to help me.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Oh, I am not laying down the work and
-retiring to the old life of idleness,” was the
-reply. “I shall leave the management of the
-mills to their new owner. It’s no part of a
-married woman’s business to manage her husband’s
-office. But I shall have all the more
-leisure left for doing good. I have no end of
-schemes to lay before you; and, I have no
-doubt, you have wiser plans than mine.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I am glad, on the whole,” said Villard
-thoughtfully, “that you are going to have more
-freedom. You are tired and worn with watching
-and caring for me,—dear, blessed soul that
-you are. Your burdens, in the past two years,
-have been borne marvelously well. Any other
-woman would have given way long ago. But,
-after all, I am a selfish man.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“You, John!”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“Yes. I must confess, I want you all to
-myself, a part of the time.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“All I have and all I am, dear, is yours.
-And yet, I cannot help feeling that we have
-still a great work to do. Employers, on all
-<span class='pageno' id='Page_252'>252</span>sides, are looking to see us fail in our attempts.
-As we stand or fall, will factories outside of
-Shepardtown be benefited or injured.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“I remember what you once said, Salome.
-Your brave words were a watchword with me
-many a time when my courage was low.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“What were they?”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“‘We want to show the world that the
-spirit of Him crucified may rule in a cotton-mill
-as fully as in the life of a saint.’ My darling,
-nobody but you would have had the courage
-to say that. We will take the sentiment as our
-rule of life.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>“And act on Rossetti’s beautiful words,”
-added Salome:</p>
-
-<div class='lg-container-b c012'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'>“And though age wearies by the way,</div>
- <div class='line in2'>And hearts break in the furrow,</div>
- <div class='line'>We’ll sow the golden grain to-day,</div>
- <div class='line in2'>The harvest reap to-morrow!</div>
- <div class='line'>Build up heroic lives, and all</div>
- <div class='line in2'>Be like the sheathen saber,</div>
- <div class='line'>Ready to flash out at God’s call,</div>
- <div class='line in2'>Oh, Chivalry of Labor!”</div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c008'>And then they sat silent in the checkered
-moonlight.</p>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
-<div class='nf-center c002'>
- <div>THE END.</div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='pbb'>
- <hr class='pb c003'>
-</div>
-
-<div class='figcenter id001'>
-<img src='images/i_books.jpg' alt='Books' class='ig001'>
-</div>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
- <div class='nf-center'>
- <div><em>From the Press of the Arena Publishing Company.</em></div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c007'><strong>The Rise of the Swiss Republic.</strong></p>
-
-<p class='c014'>By <span class='sc'>W. D. McCrackan</span>, A. M.</p>
-
-<p class='c015'>It contains over four hundred pages, printed from new and handsome
-type, on a fine quality of heavy paper. The margins are wide, and the
-volume is richly bound in cloth.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>Price, postpaid, $3.00.</p>
-
-<p class='c007'><strong>Sultan to Sultan.</strong></p>
-
-<p class='c014'>By <span class='sc'>M. French-Sheldon</span> (Bebe Bwana).</p>
-
-<p class='c015'>Being a thrilling account of a remarkable expedition to the Masai and
-other hostile tribes of East Africa, which was planned and commanded
-by this intrepid woman. <strong>A Sumptuous Volume of Travels.</strong>
-Handsomely illustrated; printed on coated paper and richly bound in
-African red silk-finished cloth.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>Price, postpaid, $5.00.</p>
-
-<p class='c007'><strong>The League of the Iroquois.</strong></p>
-
-<p class='c014'>By <span class='sc'>Benjamin Hathaway</span>.</p>
-
-<p class='c015'>It is instinct with good taste and poetic feeling, affluent of picturesque
-description and graceful portraiture, and its versification is fairly
-melodious.—<cite>Harper’s Magazine.</cite></p>
-
-<p class='c015'>Has the charm of Longfellow’s “Hiawatha.”—<cite>Albany Evening
-Journal.</cite></p>
-
-<p class='c015'>Of rare excellence and beauty.—<cite>American Wesleyan.</cite></p>
-
-<p class='c015'>Evinces fine qualities of imagination, and is distinguished by remarkable
-grace and fluency.—<cite>Boston Gazette.</cite></p>
-
-<p class='c015'>The publication of this poem alone may well serve as a mile-post in
-marking the pathway of American literature. The work is a marvel
-of legendary lore, and will be appreciated by every earnest reader.—<cite>Boston
-Times.</cite></p>
-
-<p class='c014'>Price, postpaid, cloth, $1.00; Red Line edition, $1.50.</p>
-
-<p class='c007'><strong>Songs.</strong></p>
-
-<p class='c014'>By <span class='sc'>Neith Boyce.</span> Illustrated with original drawings by
-<span class='sc'>Ethelwyn Wells Conrey</span>. A beautiful gift book. Bound
-in white and gold. Price, postpaid, $1.25.</p>
-
-<p class='c007'><strong>The Finished Creation, and Other Poems.</strong></p>
-
-<p class='c014'>By <span class='sc'>Benjamin Hathaway</span>, author of “The League of the
-Iroquois,” “Art Life,” and other Poems. Handsomely
-bound in white parchment vellum, stamped in silver. Price,
-postpaid, $1.25.</p>
-
-<p class='c007'><strong>Wit and Humor of the Bible.</strong></p>
-
-<p class='c014'>By Rev. <span class='sc'>Marion D. Shutter</span>, D.D. A brilliant and reverent
-treatise. Published only in cloth. Price, postpaid, $1.50.</p>
-
-<p class='c007'><strong>Son of Man; or, Sequel to Evolution.</strong></p>
-
-<p class='c014'>By <span class='sc'>Celestia Root Lang.</span> Published only in cloth.</p>
-
-<p class='c015'>This work, in many respects, very remarkably discusses the next
-step in the Evolution of Man. It is in perfect touch with advanced
-Christian Evolutionary thought, but takes a step beyond the present
-position of Religion Leaders.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>Price, postpaid, $1.25.</p>
-
-<p class='c007'><strong>Along Shore with a Man of War.</strong></p>
-
-<p class='c014'>By <span class='sc'>Marguerite Dickins</span>. A delightful story of travel, delightfully
-told, handsomely illustrated, and beautifully bound.
-Price, postpaid, $1.50.</p>
-
-<p class='c007'><strong>Evolution.</strong></p>
-
-<p class='c014'>Popular lectures by leading thinkers, delivered before the
-Brooklyn Ethical Association. This work is of inestimable
-value to the general reader who is interested in Evolution as
-applied to religious, scientific, and social themes. It is the joint
-work of a number of the foremost thinkers in America to-day.
-One volume, handsome cloth, illustrated, complete index.
-408 pp. Price, postpaid, $2.00.</p>
-
-<p class='c007'><strong>Sociology.</strong></p>
-
-<p class='c014'>Popular lectures by eminent thinkers, delivered before the
-Brooklyn Ethical Association. This work is a companion
-volume to “Evolution,” and presents the best thought of
-representative thinkers on social evolution. One volume,
-handsome cloth, with diagram and complete index. 412 pp.
-Price, postpaid, $2.00.</p>
-
-<p class='c007'><strong>Jason Edwards: An Average Man.</strong></p>
-
-<p class='c014'>By <span class='sc'>Hamlin Garland</span>. A powerful and realistic story of
-to-day. Price: paper, 50 cents; cloth, $1.00.</p>
-
-<p class='c007'><strong>Who Lies? An Interrogation.</strong></p>
-
-<p class='c014'>By <span class='sc'>Blum</span> and <span class='sc'>Alexander</span>. A book that is well worth reading.
-Price: paper, 50 cents; cloth, $1.00.</p>
-
-<p class='c007'><strong>Main Travelled Roads.</strong></p>
-
-<p class='c014'>Six Mississippi Valley stories. By <span class='sc'>Hamlin Garland</span>.</p>
-
-<p class='c015'>“The sturdy spirit of true democracy runs through this book.”—<cite>Review
-of Reviews.</cite></p>
-
-<p class='c014'>Price: paper, 50 cents; cloth, $1.00.</p>
-
-<p class='c007'><strong>Irrepressible Conflict Between Two World-Theories.</strong></p>
-
-<p class='c014'>By Rev. <span class='sc'>Minot J. Savage</span>. The most powerful presentation
-of Theistic Evolution <em>versus</em> Orthodoxy that has ever appeared.
-Price: paper, 50 cents; cloth, $1.00.</p>
-
-<p class='c007'><strong>Is This Your Son, My Lord?</strong></p>
-
-<p class='c014'>By <span class='sc'>Helen H. Gardener</span>. The most powerful novel written
-by an American. A terrible <em>expose</em> of conventional immorality
-and hypocrisy. Price: paper, 50 cents; cloth, $1.00.</p>
-
-<p class='c007'><strong>Pray You, Sir, Whose Daughter?</strong></p>
-
-<p class='c014'>By <span class='sc'>Helen H. Gardener</span>. A brilliant novel of to-day, dealing
-with social purity and the “age of consent” laws. Price:
-paper, 50 cents; cloth, $1.00.</p>
-
-<p class='c007'><strong>A Spoil of Office.</strong></p>
-
-<p class='c014'>A novel. By <span class='sc'>Hamlin Garland</span>. The truest picture of
-Western life that has appeared in American fiction. Price:
-paper, 50 cents; cloth, $1.00.</p>
-
-<p class='c007'><strong>Lessons Learned from Other Lives.</strong></p>
-
-<p class='c014'>By <span class='sc'>B. O. Flower</span>.</p>
-
-<p class='c015'>There are fourteen biographies in this volume, dealing with the lives
-of Seneca and Epictetus, the great Roman philosophers; Joan of Arc,
-the warrior maid; Henry Clay, the statesman; Edwin Booth and
-Joseph Jefferson, the actors; John Howard Payne, William Cullen
-Bryant, Edgar Allan Poe, Alice and Phœbe Cary, and John G. Whittier,
-the poets; Alfred Russell Wallace, the scientist; Victor Hugo, the many-sided
-man of genius.</p>
-
-<p class='c015'>“The book sparkles with literary jewels.”—<cite>Christian Leader</cite>, Cincinnati,
-Ohio.</p>
-
-<p class='c014'>Price: paper, 50 cents; cloth. $1.00.</p>
-
-<p class='c007'><strong>The Dream Child.</strong></p>
-
-<p class='c014'>A fascinating romance of two worlds. By <span class='sc'>Florence Huntley</span>.
-Price: paper, 50 cents; cloth, $1.00.</p>
-
-<p class='c007'><strong>A Mute Confessor.</strong></p>
-
-<p class='c014'>The romance of a Southern town. By <span class='sc'>Will N. Harben</span>,
-author of “White Marie,” “Almost Persuaded,” etc. Price:
-paper, 50 cents; cloth, $1.00.</p>
-
-<p class='c007'><strong>Redbank; Life on a Southern Plantation.</strong></p>
-
-<p class='c014'>By <span class='sc'>M. L. Cowles</span>. A typical Southern story by a Southern
-woman. Price: paper, 00; cloth, $1.00.</p>
-
-<p class='c007'><strong>Psychics. Facts and Theories.</strong></p>
-
-<p class='c014'>By Rev. <span class='sc'>Minot J. Savage</span>. A thoughtful discussion of
-Psychical problems. Price: paper, 50 cents; cloth, $1.00.</p>
-
-<p class='c007'><strong>Civilization’s Inferno: Studies in the Social Cellar.</strong></p>
-
-<p class='c014'>By <span class='sc'>B. O. Flower</span>. I. Introductory chapter. II. Society’s
-Exiles. III. Two Hours in the Social Cellar. IV. The
-Democracy of Darkness. V. Why the Ishmaelites Multiply.
-VI. The Froth and the Dregs. VII. A Pilgrimage and a
-Vision. VIII. Some Facts and a Question. IX. What of the
-Morrow? Price: paper, 50 cents; cloth, $1.00.</p>
-
-<p class='c007'><strong>Salome Shepard, Reformer.</strong></p>
-
-<p class='c014'>By <span class='sc'>Helen M. Winslow</span>. A New England story. Price:
-paper, 50 cents; cloth, $1.00.</p>
-
-<p class='c007'><strong>The Law of Laws.</strong></p>
-
-<p class='c014'>By <span class='sc'>S. B. Wait</span>. The author takes advance metaphysical
-grounds on the origin, nature, and destiny of the soul.</p>
-
-<p class='c015'>“It is offered as a contribution to the thought of that unnumbered
-fraternity of spirit whose members are found wherever souls are sensitive
-to the impact of the truth and feel another’s burden as their
-own.”—<cite>Author’s Preface.</cite></p>
-
-<p class='c014'>256 pages; handsome cloth. Price, postpaid, $1.50.</p>
-
-<p class='c007'><strong>Life. A Novel.</strong></p>
-
-<p class='c014'>By <span class='sc'>William W. Wheeler</span>. A book of thrilling interest from
-cover to cover.</p>
-
-<p class='c015'>In the form of a novel called “<span class='sc'>Life</span>,” William W. Wheeler has put
-before the public some of the clearest statements of logical ideas
-regarding humanity’s present aspects, its inherent and manifest
-powers, and its future, that we have ever read. The book is strong,
-keen, powerful; running over with thought, so expressed as to clearly
-convey the author’s ideas; everything is to the point, nothing superfluous—and
-for this it is specially admirable.—<cite>The Boston Times.</cite></p>
-
-<p class='c014'>Price: paper, 50 cents; cloth, $1.00.</p>
-
-<p class='c016'><span class='large'>COPLEY SQUARE SERIES.</span></p>
-
-<p class='c007'><strong>I. Bond-Holders and Bread-Winners.</strong></p>
-
-<p class='c014'>By <span class='sc'>S. S. King</span>, Esq., Kansas City, Kansas. The most powerful
-book of the year. Its argument is irresistible. You should
-read it.</p>
-
-<p class='c015'>President <span class='sc'>L. L. Polk</span>, National F. A. and I. U., says: “It should be
-placed in the hands of every voter of this country.”</p>
-
-<p class='c008'>Price, postpaid, 25 cents; per hundred, $12.50.</p>
-
-<p class='c007'><strong>II. Money, Land, and Transportation.</strong></p>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
- <div class='nf-center'>
- <div><span class='small'>CONTENTS:</span></div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='lg-container-l c017'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><strong>1. A New Declaration of Rights.</strong> <em>Hamlin Garland.</em></div>
- <div class='line'><strong>2. The Farmer, Investor, and the Railway.</strong> <em>C. Wood Davis.</em></div>
- <div class='line'><strong>3. The Independent Party and Money at Cost.</strong> <em>R. B. Hassell.</em></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c014'>Price, single copy, 25 cents; per hundred, $10.</p>
-
-<p class='c007'><strong>III. Industrial Freedom. The Triple Demand of
-Labor.</strong></p>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
- <div class='nf-center'>
- <div><span class='small'>CONTENTS:</span></div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='lg-container-l c017'>
- <div class='linegroup'>
- <div class='group'>
- <div class='line'><strong>1. The Money Question.</strong> <em>Hon. John Davis.</em></div>
- <div class='line'><strong>2. The Sub-Treasury Plan.</strong> <em>C. C. Post.</em></div>
- <div class='line'><strong>3. The Railroad Problem.</strong> <em>C. Wood Davis and Ex-Gov. Lionel A. Sheldon.</em></div>
- </div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<p class='c014'>Price, single copy, 25 cents; per hundred, $10.</p>
-
-<p class='c007'><em>For sale by all booksellers. Sent postpaid upon receipt of
-the price.</em></p>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
-<div class='nf-center c002'>
- <div><strong>Arena Publishing Company,</strong></div>
- <div><strong>Copley Square, BOSTON, MASS.</strong></div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='pbb'>
- <hr class='pb c003'>
-</div>
-<div class='tnotes x-ebookmaker'>
-
-<div class='chapter ph2'>
-
-<div class='nf-center-c0'>
-<div class='nf-center c004'>
- <div>TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES</div>
- </div>
-</div>
-
-</div>
-
- <ol class='ol_1 c002'>
- <li>Silently corrected obvious typographical errors and variations in spelling.
-
- </li>
- <li>Retained archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings as printed.
- </li>
- </ol>
-
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SALOME SHEPARD, REFORMER ***</div>
-<div style='text-align:left'>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-Updated editions will replace the previous one&#8212;the old editions will
-be renamed.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright
-law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works,
-so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United
-States without permission and without paying copyright
-royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part
-of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project
-Gutenberg&#8482; electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG&#8482;
-concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark,
-and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following
-the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use
-of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for
-copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very
-easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation
-of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project
-Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away&#8212;you may
-do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected
-by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark
-license, especially commercial redistribution.
-</div>
-
-<div style='margin-top:1em; font-size:1.1em; text-align:center'>START: FULL LICENSE</div>
-<div style='text-align:center;font-size:0.9em'>THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE</div>
-<div style='text-align:center;font-size:0.9em'>PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-To protect the Project Gutenberg&#8482; mission of promoting the free
-distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
-(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase &#8220;Project
-Gutenberg&#8221;), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full
-Project Gutenberg&#8482; License available with this file or online at
-www.gutenberg.org/license.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'>
-Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg&#8482; electronic works
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg&#8482;
-electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
-and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
-(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all
-the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or
-destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg&#8482; electronic works in your
-possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a
-Project Gutenberg&#8482; electronic work and you do not agree to be bound
-by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person
-or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.B. &#8220;Project Gutenberg&#8221; is a registered trademark. It may only be
-used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
-agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few
-things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg&#8482; electronic works
-even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See
-paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project
-Gutenberg&#8482; electronic works if you follow the terms of this
-agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg&#8482;
-electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (&#8220;the
-Foundation&#8221; or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection
-of Project Gutenberg&#8482; electronic works. Nearly all the individual
-works in the collection are in the public domain in the United
-States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the
-United States and you are located in the United States, we do not
-claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing,
-displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as
-all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope
-that you will support the Project Gutenberg&#8482; mission of promoting
-free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg&#8482;
-works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the
-Project Gutenberg&#8482; name associated with the work. You can easily
-comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the
-same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg&#8482; License when
-you share it without charge with others.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
-what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are
-in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States,
-check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this
-agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing,
-distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any
-other Project Gutenberg&#8482; work. The Foundation makes no
-representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any
-country other than the United States.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other
-immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg&#8482; License must appear
-prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg&#8482; work (any work
-on which the phrase &#8220;Project Gutenberg&#8221; appears, or with which the
-phrase &#8220;Project Gutenberg&#8221; is associated) is accessed, displayed,
-performed, viewed, copied or distributed:
-</div>
-
-<blockquote>
- <div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
- This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
- other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
- whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
- of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online
- at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you
- are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws
- of the country where you are located before using this eBook.
- </div>
-</blockquote>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg&#8482; electronic work is
-derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not
-contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the
-copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in
-the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are
-redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase &#8220;Project
-Gutenberg&#8221; associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply
-either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or
-obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg&#8482;
-trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg&#8482; electronic work is posted
-with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
-must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any
-additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms
-will be linked to the Project Gutenberg&#8482; License for all works
-posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the
-beginning of this work.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg&#8482;
-License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
-work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg&#8482;.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
-electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
-prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
-active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
-Gutenberg&#8482; License.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
-compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including
-any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access
-to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg&#8482; work in a format
-other than &#8220;Plain Vanilla ASCII&#8221; or other format used in the official
-version posted on the official Project Gutenberg&#8482; website
-(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense
-to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means
-of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original &#8220;Plain
-Vanilla ASCII&#8221; or other form. Any alternate format must include the
-full Project Gutenberg&#8482; License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
-performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg&#8482; works
-unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
-access to or distributing Project Gutenberg&#8482; electronic works
-provided that:
-</div>
-
-<div style='margin-left:0.7em;'>
- <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'>
- &#8226; You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
- the use of Project Gutenberg&#8482; works calculated using the method
- you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed
- to the owner of the Project Gutenberg&#8482; trademark, but he has
- agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project
- Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid
- within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are
- legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty
- payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project
- Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in
- Section 4, &#8220;Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg
- Literary Archive Foundation.&#8221;
- </div>
-
- <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'>
- &#8226; You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
- you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
- does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg&#8482;
- License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all
- copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue
- all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg&#8482;
- works.
- </div>
-
- <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'>
- &#8226; You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of
- any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
- electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of
- receipt of the work.
- </div>
-
- <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'>
- &#8226; You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
- distribution of Project Gutenberg&#8482; works.
- </div>
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project
-Gutenberg&#8482; electronic work or group of works on different terms than
-are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing
-from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of
-the Project Gutenberg&#8482; trademark. Contact the Foundation as set
-forth in Section 3 below.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.F.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
-effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
-works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project
-Gutenberg&#8482; collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg&#8482;
-electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may
-contain &#8220;Defects,&#8221; such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate
-or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other
-intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or
-other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or
-cannot be read by your equipment.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the &#8220;Right
-of Replacement or Refund&#8221; described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
-Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
-Gutenberg&#8482; trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
-Gutenberg&#8482; electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
-liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
-fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
-LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
-PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
-TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
-LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
-INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
-DAMAGE.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
-defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
-receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
-written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you
-received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium
-with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you
-with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in
-lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person
-or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second
-opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If
-the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing
-without further opportunities to fix the problem.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
-in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you &#8216;AS-IS&#8217;, WITH NO
-OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT
-LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
-warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of
-damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement
-violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the
-agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or
-limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or
-unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the
-remaining provisions.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
-trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
-providing copies of Project Gutenberg&#8482; electronic works in
-accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the
-production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg&#8482;
-electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses,
-including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of
-the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this
-or any Project Gutenberg&#8482; work, (b) alteration, modification, or
-additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg&#8482; work, and (c) any
-Defect you cause.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'>
-Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg&#8482;
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-Project Gutenberg&#8482; is synonymous with the free distribution of
-electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of
-computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It
-exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations
-from people in all walks of life.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
-assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg&#8482;&#8217;s
-goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg&#8482; collection will
-remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project
-Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
-and permanent future for Project Gutenberg&#8482; and future
-generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary
-Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see
-Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'>
-Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit
-501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
-state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
-Revenue Service. The Foundation&#8217;s EIN or federal tax identification
-number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary
-Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by
-U.S. federal laws and your state&#8217;s laws.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-The Foundation&#8217;s business office is located at 809 North 1500 West,
-Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up
-to date contact information can be found at the Foundation&#8217;s website
-and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'>
-Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-Project Gutenberg&#8482; depends upon and cannot survive without widespread
-public support and donations to carry out its mission of
-increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
-freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest
-array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations
-($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
-status with the IRS.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
-charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
-States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
-considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
-with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations
-where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND
-DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular state
-visit <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/donate/">www.gutenberg.org/donate</a>.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
-have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
-against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
-approach us with offers to donate.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
-any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
-outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation
-methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other
-ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To
-donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'>
-Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg&#8482; electronic works
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project
-Gutenberg&#8482; concept of a library of electronic works that could be
-freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and
-distributed Project Gutenberg&#8482; eBooks with only a loose network of
-volunteer support.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-Project Gutenberg&#8482; eBooks are often created from several printed
-editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in
-the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not
-necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper
-edition.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-Most people start at our website which has the main PG search
-facility: <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-This website includes information about Project Gutenberg&#8482;,
-including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
-Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
-subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
-</div>
-
-</div>
- </body>
- <!-- created with ppgen.py 3.57c_GHS_H5 on 2022-12-03 19:35:52 GMT -->
-</html>
diff --git a/old/69636-h/images/cover.jpg b/old/69636-h/images/cover.jpg
deleted file mode 100644
index 5308a62..0000000
--- a/old/69636-h/images/cover.jpg
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/69636-h/images/i_books.jpg b/old/69636-h/images/i_books.jpg
deleted file mode 100644
index d886c84..0000000
--- a/old/69636-h/images/i_books.jpg
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/69636-h/images/i_frontispiece.jpg b/old/69636-h/images/i_frontispiece.jpg
deleted file mode 100644
index f95c519..0000000
--- a/old/69636-h/images/i_frontispiece.jpg
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/69636-h/images/title.jpg b/old/69636-h/images/title.jpg
deleted file mode 100644
index f1f2000..0000000
--- a/old/69636-h/images/title.jpg
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ