The underworld: The story of Robert Sinclair, minerWelsh, James C.
General
The underworld: The story of Robert Sinclair, miner
Welsh, James C.
Coal miners -- Fiction; Coal mines and mining -- Fiction
"I don't give in wi' this dam'd political business," said Tam Donaldson,
who was frankly critical. "I've aye stood up for Smillie, but I dinna'
like being dragged intae this Socialist movement. A dam'd fine nest o'
robbers an' work-shy vermin. Trade Union officials should attend tae
Trade Union affairs. That's what we pay them for. But it looks to me as
if they were a' that dam'd busy trying to get intae Parliament, thet
they hinna time to look after oor affairs."
"I'm kind o' suspeecious aboot it mysel', Tam," said Robert quietly, as
they made their way to the hall that night. "I'm no' sure jist yet as to
what this Socialism is, it looks frae the papers to be a rotten kind o'
thing an' I'm no' on wi' it. But I'll wait an' hear what Hardie an'
Smillie say aboot it, afore a' make up my mind."
"To hell wi' them an' their Socialism," said Tam with some heat. "I want
a shillin' or twa on my day. It's a' yin damn to me hoo mony wives they
gie me. I canna' keep the yin I hae. What the hell wad a workin' man dae
wi' three wives? An' they tell me they're goin' to abolish religion too.
Not that I'm a religious man mysel', but I'm damn'd if I'd let them
interfere wi' it. If I want religion I've a guid richt to hae it; an'
forby, if they abolish religion, hoo wad folk do wi' the funerals? I can
see hoo they'll do wi' marriages, for there's to be nane. You've to get
your wife changed every two-three years, an' the weans brought up by the
State as they call it. But the puirhouse is a dam'd cauld step-mother,
an' I'd be up against that."
Thus discussing the subject, they reached the hall to find it packed,
everyone being keen to see and hear this man, who was making such an
uproar in the country with his advocacy of Socialism.
Robert was chairman, and had labored hard to prepare a few remarks with
which to open the meeting. He wanted to be non-committal, and his
reading and self-teaching had been of immense service to him. His
mother's influence in the molding of his character, unconsciously to
himself, had made his mind just the sort of soil for the quick rooting
of the seed to be sown that night.
It was certainly a great occasion. Robert thought as he looked at this
man, that he had never seen anyone who so typefied the spirit of
independence in his bearing. His figure was straight, the eyes fearless,
yet kindly and gentle; but the proud erect head, the straight stiff back
which seemed to say "I bend to no one" impressed Robert more than
anything else in all his make up.
Yet there was nothing aggressive about him with it all; but on the
contrary, an atmosphere of kindliness exuded from him, creating a
wonderful effect upon those with whom he came in contact. The wild
stories of this turbulent agitator, which everyone seemed to hear, and
be acquainted with, made the audience hostile to begin with. It was not
a demonstrable hostility; but one felt it was there, ready to break out,
and overwhelm this stormy petrel of the political world.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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