Youth Challenges | Page 9

you, eh?" said Lightener. He lifted his hand abruptly to motion to
silence Mr. Foote, who seemed about to interrupt. "Leave the boy alone,
Foote. ... This is interesting. Never saw just this thing happen before. ...
It hit you hard, eh?"
"It was the realization of the power of large employers of labor-- like
father and yourself, sir."
"Was that all?"
"At first. ... Then there was a fellow on a barrel making a speech about
us. ... I listened, and found out the workingmen realize that we are sort
of czars or some such thing--and resent it. I supposed things were
different. This Dulac was sent here to organize our men into a
union--just why I didn't understand, but he promised to explain it to
me."
"WHAT?" demanded Bonbright Foote VI, approaching nearer than his

wife had ever seen him to losing his poise.
"You talked to him?" asked Hilda, leaning forward in her interest.
"I was introduced to him; I wanted to know. ... He was a handsome
fellow. Not a gentleman, of course--"
"Oh!" Lightener pounced on that expression. "Not a gentleman, eh? ...
Expect to find the Harvard manner in a man preaching riot from a
potato barrel? ... Well, well, what did he say? How did HE affect you?"
"He seemed to think the men resented our power over them. Just how
correctly he stated their feeling I don't know, of course. They cheered
his speech, however. ... He said father had the power to buy mother a
diamond necklace to-morrow, and cut their wages to pay for it--and
they couldn't help themselves."
"Well--could they?"
"I don't know. I didn't understand it all, but it didn't seem right that
those men should feel that way toward us. I want to talk to father about
it--have him explain it to me."
Lightener chuckled and turned to Mr. Foote. "I don't suppose you
appreciate the humor of that, Foote, the way I do. He's coming to you
for an unbiased explanation of why your employees--feel that way. ...
Young fellow," he turned to Bonbright again--"I could come closer to
doing it than your father--because I was one of them once. I used to
come home with grease on my hands and a smudge on my nose,
smelling of sweat." Mrs. Foote repressed a shudder and lowered her
eyes. "But I couldn't be fair about it. Your father has no more chance of
explaining the thing to you--than my wife has of explaining the theory
of an internal-combustion engine. ... We employers can't do it. We're on
the other side. We can't see anything but our own side of it."
"Come now, Lightener, I'm fair-minded. I've even given some study to
the motives of men."

"And you're writing a book." He shrugged his shoulders. "The sort of
philosophical reflections that go in books aren't the sort to answer when
you're up against the real thing in social unrest. ... In your whole
business life you've never really come into contact with your men. Now
be honest, have you?"
"I've always delegated that sort of thing to subordinates," said Mr.
Foote, stiffly.
"Which," retorted Mr. Lightener, "is one of the reasons for the unrest. ...
That's it. We don't understand what they're up against, nor what we do
to aggravate them."
"It's the inevitable warfare between capital and labor," said Mr. Foote.
"Jealousy is at the root of it; unsound theories, like this of socialism,
and too much freedom of speech make it all but unbearable."
"Dulac said they must organize to be in condition to fight us."
"Organize," said Mr. Foote, contemptuously. "I'll have no unions in my
shop. There never have been unions and there never shall be. I'll put a
sudden stop to that. ... Pretty idea, when the men I pay wages to, the
men I feed and clothe, can dictate to me how I shall conduct my
affairs."
"Yes," said Lightener, "we automobile fellows are non-union, but how
long we can maintain it I don't know. They have their eyes on us and
they're mighty hungry."
"To-morrow morning," said Mr. Foote, "notices will appear in every
department stating that any man who affiliates with a labor union will
be summarily dismissed."
"Maybe that will end the thing this time, Foote, but it'll be back. It 'll be
back."
Hilda leaned forward again and whispered to Bonbright, "You're not
getting much enlightenment, are you?" Her eyes twinkled; it was like

her father's twinkle, but more charming.
"How," he asked, slowly, "are we ever to make anything of it if we, on
the employers' side, can't understand their point of view, and they can't
understand ours?"
Mrs. Foote arose. "Let's not take labor unions into the other room with
us," she said.
Bonbright and Hilda walked in together