'And good words are--?' 'Asking for work. I reckon them's almost the best words that men
can say. "Gi' me work" means "and I'll do it like a man." Them's
good words.' 'And bad words are refusing you work when you ask for it.' 'Ay. Bad words is saying "Aha, my fine chap! Yo've been true to
yo'r order, and I'll be true to mine. Yo' did the best yo' could
for them as wanted help; that's yo'r way of being true to yo'r
kind; and I'll be true to mine. Yo've been a poor fool, as knowed
no better nor be a true faithful fool. So go and be d----d to yo'.
There's no work for yo' here." Them's bad words. I'm not a fool;
and if I was, folk ought to ha' taught me how to be wise after
their fashion. I could mappen ha' learnt, if any one had tried to
teach me.' 'Would it not be worth while,' said Mr. Hale, 'to ask your old
master if he would take you back again? It might be a poor
chance, but it would be a chance.' He looked up again, with a sharp glance at the questioner; and
then tittered a low and bitter laugh.
'Measter! if it's no offence, I'll ask yo' a question or two in
my turn.' 'You're quite welcome,' said Mr. Hale.
'I reckon yo'n some way of earning your bread. Folk seldom lives
i' Milton lust for pleasure, if they can live anywhere else.' 'You are quite right. I have some independent property, but my
intention in settling in Milton was to become a private tutor.' 'To teach folk. Well! I reckon they pay yo' for teaching them,
dunnot they?' 'Yes,' replied Mr. Hale, smiling. 'I teach in order to get paid.' 'And them that pays yo', dun they tell yo' whatten to do, or
whatten not to do wi' the money they gives you in just payment
for your pains--in fair exchange like?' 'No; to be sure not!' 'They dunnot say, "Yo' may have a brother, or a friend as dear as
a brother, who wants this here brass for a purpose both yo' and
he think right; but yo' mun promise not give it to him. Yo' may
see a good use, as yo' think, to put yo'r money to; but we don't
think it good, and so if yo' spend it a-thatens we'll just leave
off dealing with yo'." They dunnot say that, dun they?' 'No: to be sure not!' 'Would yo' stand it if they did?' 'It would be some very hard pressure that would make me even
think of submitting to such dictation.' 'There's not the pressure on all the broad earth that would make
me, said Nicholas Higgins. 'Now yo've got it. Yo've hit the
bull's eye. Hamper's--that's where I worked--makes their men
pledge 'emselves they'll not give a penny to help th' Union or
keep turnouts fro' clemming. They may pledge and make pledge,'
continued he, scornfully; 'they nobbut make liars and hypocrites.
And that's a less sin, to my mind, to making men's hearts so hard
that they'll not do a kindness to them as needs it, or help on
the right and just cause, though it goes again the strong hand.
But I'll ne'er forswear mysel' for a' the work the king could
gi'e me. I'm a member o' the Union; and I think it's the only
thing to do the workman any good. And I've been a turn-out, and
known what it were to clem; so if I get a shilling, sixpence
shall go to them if they axe it from me. Consequence is, I dunnot
see where I'm to get a shilling.' 'Is that rule about not contributing to the Union in force at all
the mills?' asked Margaret.