Page 71 of One London Eve
“You’re a leader of your kind, are you not? I’m not acquainted with any others.”
“I thought I was a leader, but I reckon it did no good. I couldn’t stop them from turning to violence, although I warned them not to raise trouble. I’d like to see the whole lot of them that ran to your mill be thrown from the Union.”
Higgins’ vehemence roused Bessy from her sleep. “Father, who is it?” she called out groggily from the shadows.
“It’s the Master that’s come before. Come to talk to me a while,” her father answered.
“Oh! Yo’ must tell him about Boucher,” she sat up in her excitement, which brought on a coughing spell.
“Easy now, Bess,” her father said, his chair scraping the floor as he moved to lay a soothing hand on her.
The coughing ceased at last, and she continued her plea. “Miss Margaret says not to send Boucher or the like to jail. His family has suffered enough trouble since he never wanted to be in the Union.”
“Yo’ve said your piece. Now you can lie back down,” Higgins said. “The Master has not come about that affair, so mind yo’ to keep quiet a spell.”
The Union leader sat back down to face the mill master.
“Your Union asked for increased wages,” Mr. Thornton began, “but we could not pay more at this time. Stay... let me finish,” he said as Higgins rose from his seat impatiently. The working man crossed his arms in defiance, but stood still to hear him out.
“If I can’t pay my workers more in wages, that’s the end of it—so I thought. If men need more to feed their families, there’s naught that I can do about it. But as I thought about it a bit more, there might be a way to economize on food if it’s bought wholesale in significant quantities.”
“I don’t understand,” Higgins said, frowning and half wondering if the Master had been hit in the head himself.
“If we built a kitchen and a dining hall at the mill, men might eat a hot meal there at mid-day for a pittance and save some money.”
Higgins was unconvinced. “And how do you benefit from such a scheme? I’m not a chap to believe yo’ve suddenly changed to give your worldly goods to the poor.”
“The kitchen or dining hall—whatever we call it—would not run as a charity. It would be self-operating, with no profit. The purchase of food comes from the workers who pay to eat. My benefit is that my workers will be healthier—they’d be better workers for me.”
Higgins sat down again. “Where would this kitchen be? And who will cook it, or set about buying goods?”
“There’s a storage building in the back that is often unused. We’d hire a cook. And I’ll need someone to manage the operation.”
“Who will do all this?”
“You will,” Mr. Thornton answered, a smile creeping over his face at the other man’s surprise.
“But I’m a weaver, not some kitchen wench.”
“You’re a man who can calculate figures and talk to people. You have connections.”
“Take it, father!” Bessy called out.
Higgins startled at her outburst, forgetting she was there.
There was silence for a few moments as the Union leader considered his pride in taking work from the man who had hired knobsticks. “I’ll take work from yo’, to care for my Bess, but I’ll not swear off the Union as it’s said Hamper is making men do.”
“I’ll not ask men to make empty promises. But I will expect you’ll make no trouble for me at my mill. I’ll be honest with you and expect you to be the same with me. Or out you go.”
Mr. Thornton held out his hand, and with only a moment’s hesitation, Higgins clasped it.
Chapter thirty
The very next morning, Mr. Hale sent a message to his favorite pupil, requesting that he come that evening to discuss an urgent matter. It pained Mr. Hale to use more forceful language than was his nature, but he would follow his wife’s urging at nearly any cost now.
Fanny bustled into the room where her mother was sewing and thinking. “Why hasn’t Johnny asked Miss Hale to marry him yet? I cannot bear to suffer the looks I got this morning when I went to Jenny Foster’s house. It’s all over town about what happened, and people are asking me about his wedding! Doesn’t he know what he is doing to the family?” she whined.
Mrs. Thornton heaved a silent sigh. Although she had no compunction to save Miss Hale’s reputation—let the girl find her own way out of the muddle she had created for herself—Mrs. Thornton had a powerful impulse to save her own son’s pride by keeping what had transpired secret. Perhaps Miss Hale wouldsee the predicament she was truly in and come to her senses, God help us all.
