The worship of the golden calf: A story of wage-slavery in MassachusettsFrench, Charles Sheldon
General
The worship of the golden calf: A story of wage-slavery in Massachusetts
French, Charles Sheldon
Massachusetts -- Fiction; Mills and mill-work -- Fiction; Political fiction
“Zechariah, I want you to give Joel Byron his old place in the mill. I
do not approve of discharging workmen for their politics.”
“I shall do no such thing, Sister Eva. Byron was not discharged for
his politics, but for attempting to create discontent among his
fellow-workmen.”
“The petition to the Selectmen, which Byron circulated, asking for an
evening session of town-meeting, was a perfectly respectful one, was it
not?”
“If you mean respectful to the Selectmen,--yes; if you mean respectful
to us,--_no_!”
“How so?”
“We, who own the town, ought to say what its taxes should be. Our
employees, who pay only poll taxes, should not vote taxes for us to
pay. If the appropriations for town expenses were made at an evening
session, as they are in some Massachusetts towns, our workmen could
vote, and load us down with taxes. Under Massachusetts law, mill-hands
can remain away from their work only _two hours_. This law does not
apply to town-meeting, but we give our workmen the benefit of it. Our
workmen can come and vote for town-officers by secret ballot, and get
back to the mills within the two hours. After they are safely away from
town-meeting, and at work again, we pass the appropriations.”
“You don’t believe in popular government, then?”
“I don’t believe that a man who pays only two dollars tax, should be
the equal of one who pays ten thousand dollars taxes, when it comes to
voting appropriations.”
“But what would become of popular government, and of our free
institutions, if your ideas prevailed?”
“I don’t know and I don’t care. You have about as much sense as a hen,
Eva, when it comes to business.”
“Have I? Very well. I have about as much influence as a hen, if you
please, in the management of the Baldwin Mills, although my father
left me a two-million-dollar interest in these mills. Now, Zechariah,
I have been a mere cipher in this business long enough. There is a
New York gentleman who will gladly pay me every dollar my interest in
the Baldwin Mills is worth. He will not be a cipher in the concern
as I have been, and he has opinions of his own as to the rights of
workingmen. He will not see his employees’ interests trodden under foot
without uttering a protest which will be heard, not only throughout the
State, but throughout the Nation.
“I give you fair warning. One week from to-day, unless you and David
make a fair division of the property with me, I shall deed my interest
in the Baldwin Mills to the New Yorker. Don’t say I didn’t give you
fair warning. You will have a partner, if I sell out, who will be able
to protect both himself and his workmen. We’ll see whether I have as
much sense as a hen in this business.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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