The daily Gate City. [volume] (Keokuk, Iowa) 1855-1916, 1912-01-05

J
out OF his blue eye with round. soft
fist.
II was seven months since brewery
wagon. laundering recklessly round q
corner, had left Tommy stretched on
the pavement With the muscles almost
torn out of his sturdy legs.
The father sat down at the head OF
the table and emptied half his steam
Ing coffee into the saucer. The wife
was sitting quietly yet. a hand on the
baby's restless fingers
I'VE used to say grace John" she
said.
I've did used to, didn't we.' he an
swered IN a surprised sort of way. as
he helped himself to the stew and
passed 1t to his wife.
When the meal was half over a
freckie-faced boy of ten or twelve
years catapulted into the room.
Hello. Dad!" he conceded, fam,l.
fairly. as his beaming face appeared
| above a yawning plate.
Where you been, Jack?" asked the
father, viewing approvingly the skill
with which his eldest born was spear
ing generous slices Of bread on to his
plate, to Immediately smother them in
q detuge of stew.
"Playin' up in tn lot" gurgled the
boy between mouthfuls.
After supper John sat reading the
evening paper till Tommie fell asleep
on his arm.
Well. look at that, John Jennie
/ said, The darlingi"
The father took UP the boy and ten.
DERBY placed him on the pallet which
the wife swiftly made in the inner
room. The baby was already asleep
7 in the bed beyond. The fathers gaze
shifted from the boy to the baby and
back again to where the favored leg
! in its plaster mold was placed care
/ fully
.eThtrty-nve dollars. you said," he
asked
Yes, John" she answered softly.
Nesting closer to the tall frame Of her
fsig husband For moment the soft
ness OF recognized emotion EMBODIED
them, and then slowly passed away.
A ring at the door bell broke in
rudely. 1t was Joe Sturtevant come
in on the way home from a union
meeting, to renew the argument. After
some talk John burst out impatiently
with:
But we owe some loyalty to the
men that give us work and pay us
wages, and don't like to sign It all
away to the union"
Joe smiled, grim, superior sort of
/ = smile.
The loyalty's the other way round.
he said; the employer owes his 10y
atty to us who take his wages and run
his mills and make his profits for him.
Your loyalty" ne continued, rising for
one Of his ringing perorations. lis to
your molders local, and through that
to the International and the American
Federation, and to every last rag of
a union labor charter In all the world
land right there It stops"
! Joe smote the table with the palm
Of his broad hand.
| Stops where?" asked John.
With the union labor charter" re-
| piled Joe fatty.
| You mean that DO not owe any
fealty to the labor because It is labor.
but only to union labor"
That's exactly what / mean. The
non-union man is greater enemy of
labor than the most oppressive am
ployer. The employer is battling with
conditions. and haven't got a thing
against him as long as he fights fair.
Its him and me for 1t. But the non.
union man is to-day helping himself
TO conditions that the union man has
suffered and is suffering to create.
That's why hate scab SO. He's the
| meanest traitor on earth. He's got
Benedict Arnold and Judas Iscariot
skinned mile A scab Ia such q
varmint tilat-that why. honest, John.
I'm q peaceable man, and you know
IT. | amt never hit man in nv life.
but when | think about a-a-one of
them things, well, say, l think Il |
was to run up against one Of them
kind OF fellows when a strike was on
I'd try to hurt him. No use arguing
with EN-. There's nothing to do but
smash EN-"
Joe's eyes flashed and his red face
turned purple in the intensity Of his
feeling. AS he finished, John said In
that deep, steady voice Of hiE:
Then Ii strike Is ordered, and
keep on working. you'll call me a scab;
and then, suppose, you will smash
me-"
Joe shook his head in horror.
Jack" he exclaimed, "for Gods
sake don't ever call yourself that
name! And turning, he started for
the door so abruptly that he reached
1t and let himself out before either
John or his wife could reach it.
"These unions are awful things.
making trouble between the men and
their employers, and between friends
and friends commented Jennie.
That's what they are" affirmed
John. Trouble breeders, and nothing
else"
One day John Martin stood at the
cottage door, his dinner bucket on his
arm. Jennie had taken her hands out
OF the dish-water and wiped them on
her apron. She touched with her
still damp fingers the furnace tan of
his cheeks. He stopped and pressed
her lips. She stood looking into the
depths OF his serious eyes, but said
nothing. There was nothing to say.
Each had done talking. For weeks
and weeks, for nights and days, they
had talked Of nothing, thought Of
nothing. but this morning. And now
the morning had come--John put his
dinner bucket down on the step and