Waterbury evening Democrat., 1888-02-02

ssOnly six months"
 "Why," volunteered Mir. Breton after an awkward silence, ''that is about as long as the mill hands have been fault finding SO loudly" The old gentleman looked sharply at him. 'I don't suppose you would tell who has been making the trouble.'
 ssYes, sir" Curran had risen to his feet the flush of offended self respect in his cheeks When I came here found the mills paving you 12 per cent. dividends, while the help who ground them out for you, were crushed almost to the earth. I felt bound to tell them, as I now tell you, that the owner has no more God given right to all the profit of their work than they to all the profit of his investment
 "And you are the man who has been stir ring up this mischief here!" cried Mr. Ere ton, almost starting from his chair. He had caught him at last then. 'And do you say that man isn't entitled to the interest on his money? My money represents thousand such lives as yours; it ought to have thou sand times the pay" He had more terrible guns than of the batteries of logic for the rebel, but he could not resist the temptation to explode the fallacies of his class before he let him go.
 The young mans eyes flashed beautifully. "Your money represents thousand lives, l then, out of which you have sucked the life blood? And at how much do you value human lifes As much as $1 ,000 for soul? A l thousand dollars for all the joys and hopes and possibilities of a human life? Your val uation is too miserably small. I tell you," ! and Curran threw out his right hand in | magnificent gesture, "I tell you, human creature ought to have for it's service a good portion of the comforts and delights the | world is so bounteous with. Anything less l is slavery, a slavery worse than negro bond age. Do you call it pay that you give the | hopeless men and women that weave gold fol | you on your looms? Rather say the daily | recurring fact of hunger chains them to your | mill"
 l Mir. Ellingsworth had sunk back in his | seat in despair; he might as well resign him l self to the situation since it seemed beyond l his power to change it. MT. Breton was l likely to hear some startling truths before | he succeeded in refuting this dangerous young man. Perhaps it was just as well. 1 too; there is no sense in a mans making his money as the rich do, by one kind or another of imposition or injustice and then affect l such ridiculous unconsciousness. There is no sense in being blind and stupid about how one comes to be rich, the comfortable fact remaining. What was the use of Breton wrestling with such young giant as this? | "I pay my help market prices of labor. don't propose to make them gifts" The | old gentleman handled his cane nervously, 1 but he could. punish the man enough later. l He felt Ellingsworth'S sharp eyes, he must l think of something to absolutely overwhelm l the arguments of his workman He ran over in his mind the smooth axioms of his 1 class, and tried hard to recollect some of the perfect syllogisms of the political economists 1 Curran sttood his elbow resting on the back l of the chair he had been sitting in, in an at l ,t,,Io fo1 of,,1 4l>ok- l Ellingsworth glanced across at his daughter l to see if she had observed it. It was not
 quite so inconceivable, after all, that Bertha | might have taken fancy to him. But then I his whole associations had been with the poor, and what possible harmony, even for a mo
 ment-then Mir. Ellhgsworth remembered
 the maid servant crying at this moment in the dining room.
 ''Naturally you prefer to let your half
 clothed ill fed hands make you the presents;
 they earn you big dividends; you throw them
 crust of bread, the market price of labor you call it, and put the dividends in your own pocket"
 "But it's my money made the mill, and my l management runs it."
 ''As for the money" retorted Curran, ''per-
 haps you inherited a part of it, saved by the
 tax laid on the poor of the last generation, or you borrowed it, perhaps, on interest, and
 made the help in your mill pay the interest
 every penny of it; how else could it be paid!
 You did not make your money; no man can
 till $2,OOO,OOO out of his farm, or dig it out
 of coal mine. You simply took it. Your
 new mills are paid for out of wages you
 ought to have given your help; you call them
 yours; the new machinery comes out of them.
 They are the real stockholders ill it all"
 MT. Breton had sprung from his seat, but
 Curran went on unfinchingly. 'It isn't
 earned, it is simply defrauded. The manage
 ment is doubtless good, but no management
 could, in the righteous course of justice, bring
 such vast fortunes into the hands of few
 men; while the thousands who work fol
 them live and die with the consuming thirst
 for happiness never for one hour assuaged ir l their soulS.'
 l The old gentleman had come up close tC
 him as he spoke, and as he finished, Currar
 looked down calmly into face almost purple ! with passion It occurred to him that Mr. Breton was about to have an attack of apo plexy. The hand that held his gold headed cane fairly trembled.
 s'You have earned your last penny in my
 mills!" the old gentleman shouted at him
 ''We ought to have laws to shut up such mer as you"
 ssMr. Ellingsworth," said Curran, as thai gentleman rose to his feet, ''I am very sorry te } have brought such a scene into your parlor ! it seemed unavoidable after what was said tc me, and it seems likely to prove more un fortunate for me than for anybody else." : No one thought of anything to say. Mir Ellingsworth vaguely wondered where the man picked up his neat way of talking, but then the wealthy, after all, have no monopoly l of talent.
 } Curran cast whitening look of contempt on the mill owner, "I am sorry, too, to b. deprived of the chance to win my daily
 bread"
 He did not notice that the expression O l the girls face had changed, or that she hae 7 started to come to him, but there was
 grandeur of wrath in his face and bearing , that awed her. She stood in the center O
 the room, with heaving bosom and fright
 ened, troubled eyes, watching him out of th l door, Then her father came back througl
 the hall with his sarcastic smile finely curv 3 ing his thin lips.
 How beautifully he had known how to pre- . serve his own honor. It would have beel l base and ignoble in him to have crawled ou 7 of her parlor at the entrance of her fathe 3 and Mr. Breton, self confessed unworthy t , sit in their presence And for all their wealtl
 and power and vantage ground, careless o