Rock Island daily Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1886-1893, 1888-02-04

harmonteS for them alone, with It's treasured
meaning Of uncounted centuries. Painting
ravishes their eyes alone with tho pictured
realms of inspired fancy. Literature scrapes
and cringes before them, with its stores OF
| wisdom
Then he threw out his arms and came for,
ward TO the edge of the platform, for one
last personal appeal. A hundred that could
not understand all he said, thrilled TO vague
| revolt under his irresistible magnetic force.
"Your bodies, whose only pleasure is sleep
| whose only qualification is to still the daily
| recurring necessary hunger, your bodies
| could enjoy every luxury and beauty; ali
| and the common Christian comforts would
| be sweetest Injuries to you, which have
palled on the stated senses of the rich Your
minds and souls could grow fine and broad
| and calm in the education their pampered
| children scott at; and the world progress
| more in a year than in centuries before, And
| YOU arc thousand to one; the joys and
| comforts, the blessed possibilities of thou
aind lives against the insensate greed Of one
man for more, and more he cannot eat, OF
| drink, or enjoy. 1t is his madness that they
| do not coniine such as he who sots the world
| back ten years for ono he lives. But when
| he opens his great vault tomorrow and sits
| down to count his i'll gotten gains Of the yes
| terday. let his heart sink within him; he has
refused his workmen the common rights of
| humanity, and they will leave his mills To
| rot in idleness."
He took his hai from the table and strobe
| down the aisle amid the excited applause of
| his audience and went out, not even once
| looking back Anawltward silence followed,
| but it was several moments before Philip
| braced himself to do what perhaps, was his
duty Every eye was fixed on him as he
| IL, pY,a I,tt no.
lieved he was their friend. Had he not put
on the fire escapes out of his own money in
| spite of his father; Many whisper of COM
mendation brought an answeEo of hearty good
| feeling. One or two of the women in the
| galleries actually said he was handsome.
M friends" he began, but somehow he
| did not care to lift his eyes to meet the kind
| look in the trustful eyes, II don't think there
| is any occasion, mean, friends
What did he mean he knew better than
| they what occasion there was. How dare he
ask them to wait ard hope, for when had a
| corporation a heart for mercyi He knew
| better than they, til 1t tomorrow would BIO
| the last day when a strike would be likely
of any effeft. They might defeat his fathers
| scheme if nothing else, a scheme that would
| make them servants no longer of man, but
| Of a pitiless business principle.
| Alright the confidence in the eyes of the COM
pany. He believed he might make them
wait, but had he right to ask itt Here
were thousand souls in the mills, impatient
| at injustice, as they thought; he could offer
| them no hope, not ono straw his hands
| would be forever tied after tomorrow. Had
| he right to restrain themi
"Friends, know not what to advise you,
since l am so weak to help you" He sat
down and cheer raug loud and hearty to
the roof, but he felt himself in an agonzing
position. On the great questions at issue be.
tween the employers and the worlimen, the
rich and the poor, his mind was slow in COM
ing to a conclusion He admitted most that
even Curran said, while he listened, but how
| to help it was the question he ever asked him
self. Surely nobody was protited by flying
| in the face of great economical laws. But
then, what were laws, and what were falla-
cies2 Well if he did not know what was
right, could he not follow his fathers urgent
wishes; Was he making a generous return
| for the love his father had lavished on him,
| if he should disObey him nowl As he sat
| there his vivid imagination pictured the cor
| pOration in operation. Some little injustice
was being done, and he mentions it to the
| overseer. "Them's orders; you must
see the superintendent" He could
see it all so plainly. He knocks at
| the superintendent door and is re-
ceived with the attention due the chief
| stockholders son; he sees his bland, smiling
face, his sleek, well paid smile He speaks
of the rule which perhaps works to rob some
particular set of hands wholly without their
| fault but / have no authority to change
| it, though it does seem hard; better see the
AGENT Philip imagines his discouraged step,
as he makes his way to the agent to be re-
| ferred to a set of Indifferent directors, who
| "really know nothing about the matter, but
| l do not feel like running against the in
terests of the stockholders"
While Philip sat trying to grasp his duty
of that moment, he became conscious that it
was very still and that no one seemed dis
posed to follow him. Not few impatient
| faces were turned askance toward him. He
rose and crossed the room to go out, but al
most at the door he hesitated. He must say
something.
"PerhapB it is not all quite as plain AS you
think. If by higher wages or shorter hours
you made the profit on the mills smaller, are
you not afraid other mills would leave us be-
hind, being able to sell cheaper or else the
| capital invested go elsewhere where it can
make more profit Now you get small wages
for long hours, but in the other cases you
might lose work altogether" Then he looked
| anxiously around and added hurriedly:
mind, don't say do this or that; l will not
ask anything of you. But if there is a loss it
will be on you"
When he left the hall he felt like walking
about little while, to calm his mind. He
chose the route that would lead past the little
| tenement house where they had fed him with
cold potatoes 1t was only month ago. He
| looked in through the windows. The sick
l,,r fho anfa th, 1aI
plaid shawl for her coverlet; there was the
same bare deal table, and a pair of dingy
chairs before it, The desolation made his
heart sick Then he looked up at the windows
of the attic chamber where he had slept that
other night. 1t was all dark, but he imagined
the glaring white walls, with the queer little
block of a looking glass hanging there, and
the backless wooden chair that had to
serve for washstand, and his low bed,
with the girls shawl for his counterpane.
What great things he had dreamed,
that night, he should do for the new cause
that had fired his heart, new to him, but old
as civilization. He turned away with pain
in his heart, a pain for the wrongs of the
millions of the sons of toll who have never
come into their Inheritance. He turned up
the road that led to his own home on the hill /;
he could see the CLEAN of bright light from
his fathers study, where with his smooth
faced lawyer, he was perfecting his plans for
the morrow. And then he seemed to hear
his own words and his own tone as he had
spoken in the meeting echoing oddly in his
ear Had he undutifully sacrificed his
father to his help, and would it be from his
fault the strike he feared would come to-
morrow Could his father point his trem-
bling fingers at him when the mills should
stop, and the prospective stockholders de-
cline the investment tomorrow and say:
my own son is to blame. With one word
he could have prevented it"
Then Philip turned his back to the lights