"But you own your looms," says Eggleston. "Your loom tenders are human beings." "When they mob strike breakers they behave more like wild animals, and then you've got to treat 'em as such," raps back J. Q. "Are you quite certain that the standards of humanity you set up are just?" asks Eggy. "You know people are beginning to question your absolute right to fix arbitrarily the hours and wages and conditions of labor. They are suggesting that your mills produce tuberculosis as well as cloth. They are showing that, in your eagerness for dividends, you work women and children too long, and that you don't pay them a living wage." "Rot!" snorts J. Q. "These are all the mushy theories of sentimentalists. What else are these foreigners good for?" "Ah, there you get to it!" says Eggy. "Aren't they too valuable to be ground up in your dusty mills? Can they not be made into useful citizens?" "No, they can't," snaps Mr. Hubbard. "It's been tried too often. Look at the results. Who fill our jails? Foreigners! Who swarm in our filthy city slums? Foreigners! They are the curse of this country. Look at the wretched mob you have brought about your heels to-day, those outside there. There's a sample." "If you only would look and understand!" says Eggleston. "Won't you--now? It will take only a little of your time, and I'll promise to keep them in order. Oh, if you'd only let me!" "Let you what?" demands J. Q., starin' puzzled. "Introduce a few of them to you properly," says Eggy; "only four or five. Come, a handful of simple-minded peasants can't hurt you. They're poor, and ignorant, and not especially clean, I'll admit; but I'll keep them at a proper distance. You see, I want to show you something about them. Of course, you're afraid you'll lose your cherished prejudices----" "I'm afraid of nothing of the sort," breaks in Mr. Hubbard. "Go on. Have 'em up, if McCabe is willing." "Eh?" says I. "Bring that mob up here?" "Just a few," pleads Eggy, "and for ten minutes only." "It might be sport," suggests Pinckney. "I'll take a chance," says I. "We can disinfect afterwards." Eggy dashes off, and after a lively jabberin' below comes back with his selected specimens. Not a one looks as though he'd been over more'n a year, and some are still wearin' the outlandish rigs they landed in. Then Eggy begins introducin' 'em. And, say, you'd hardly know him for the same bashful, wispy party that Swifty had dragged in a little while before. Honest, as he warms to it, he sort of swells up and straightens, he squares his shoulders, his voice rings out confident, and his eyes behind the thick glasses are all aglow.