"We Follow the Stats,"

Evening Post, Volume LXXIV, Issue 66, 14 September 1907, Page 10

" We Follow the Stats,"

"It were .ill ono That I should love a bright particular star, And llimlc to wed it." —"All's Well that Ends Well," i., I. From time to time, in tho march of the multifarious business of life, currents of opposiug force which have long been drawing together unseen, will suddenly emerge and clash together. Such a crisis occurred in the House of Northborough, when a strike was declared at his lordship's mill Until then, the student of the social annals of tho last years of the Victorian epoch will have remarked Lady Ida Borjase, Lord Northborough's only daughter, strenuouily advocating the gospel of Socialism, and believing hersclt to bo what, in the phrase of an older freed, was known as •& chosen vessel; will have observed (not 'vithoub concern) the young Labour leader, Mr. Richard Dane, being treated by Lady Ida as a "comrade" — to employ the unctuous slang of the sect — while the Honourable George Blundell, who was too honest to conceal his detestation of the ethics of revolution, and who owned, besides, no great capacity for understanding them, had imposed upon him by Lady Ida the choice of changing his opinions, a thing impossible to him, or — an equal impossibility — of renouncing his hopes with regard to her. It will be rememberod that he endured in silence ; that, in the meantime, his regiment had been ordered out upon active service; and that nothing remained for him to do except to avail himself of his permission to say goodbye — a concession which he owed to the tact of Cissy Lant, Lady Ida"s secretary, who had her owr views on the situation. And meanwhile, too (it may bo remembered), Lord Northborough, moved thereto by tho ghostly counsel of Tom Boscawen, his old friend the scholarparson, had put Mr. Dick Dane's sincerity to tho test_, by offering him a post in his lordship's works at a, high salary, together with a share in the profits. Mr. Dane promptly accepted it, thereby removing himself from Lady Ida's too perilous neighbourhood, and severing himself from the forces of vevolutiou, at a blow. As to his sincerity, he was — as he said — the best judge. Lady Ida was ignorant of this transaction. The same day, the strike was declared ; Dick Dane was ordered by his Trade Union Federation to go "north as a "dcleg-ate" and lead tho strikers; and Lady Ida, having requested her father, the old lord, to concede the strikers' demands before they wore made, and being told to mind her own business, went straightway to Dick Dane's office and announced her intention of going north with him to help the poor people. Mr. Dane was, indeed, going north by tho next train ; but he was going to help, not tho people, but Lord Northborough. For a moment (as may bo recalled) ho entertained an insane impulse to tako Lady Ida with him and hazard the consequences. Let us do him justice — it waj not prudence, but another motive, which inspired him to resist temptation. The deputation from the north arriving, he persuaded Lady Ida to return to her father and ask him to receive his workers' representatives. Had it not been for Cissy Lant, the shrewd north-country girl, the old lord would have incontinently pursued niu daughter — and with-, what deplorable consequences, who can tell ? He let Cissy go instead- Lady Ida was then on her way home, and Cissy missed her, but found Dick Dane, with results to bo presently related. During Lady Ida's absence,- Tom Boscawen visited her father and bestowed some astringent advice upon him. But, indeed, old James stood in small need of counsel. That his daughter should have left him without a word, struck him hard. Ko regarded Uie situation as intensely tragic ; a thing which had not occurred to Lady Ida. Ho had considered with himself, and ho was ready to capitulate utterly, to grant any request, so that they might be' friends again. And behold ! when Lady Ida came in, she appeared to be unconscious of anything extraordinary in her conduce. She hrul done wrong ; she Wi'.s sorry ; of course file would not leave him. But what about the strike? Old James, completely bewildernd, bade hei ask what she would, and she confounded him by confessing that sho had nothing to suggest. That there was something now on the girl's mind old James perceived, but what it was he could not understand. But the deputation was at hand ; a course of action had to bo detenniied ; and tno Reverend Thomas Boscawen was called into counsel. Tho three designed a plan, and tho deputation was summoned. Thero entered a.ll old gentleman with a gentlo and beautiful face, like a carving in ivory. His white hair was brushed back like a mano froiu his square forehead, beneath which his eyes looked quietly forth, alert and brooding. Both Lord Northborough and Tom Bcscaweu greeted Stephen- Oakenshaw as an old acquaintance, ivhilo the rest of the deputation, four men and two women, filed into the room, followed by a short fair-bearded man of a different ilamp from tho workers. "My lord," said Mr. Oakenshaw, "I have really no right to be here,' lam not tho spokesman. But as an old reformer, tho follower of Robeit. Owen, tho friend of George Jacob liolvoake — and that's my pride! — I could not rrfrjin. I hoped T might bj of use. My friends heru kindly allowed me to accompnny them. And I had a personal object, too — [ <lc.<ircd to thank her ladyship for her kindness to Cissy Lant, who was brought up in my house, as you know, my lord. Now I will stand asida in favour of John Bidwbll. Speak up, Jack."' John Bidwell, it stout, grizzled, 6olpmn woikman, attired in his Sunday blncks, stood up, and fipoko shortly and clearly, explaining the demandd of the workers. "Is that ally" said Lord Nortbborough when ho had made an end. "Very well. I'vo no objections to offer. I'll givo you f,ll that. You understand? All." ihcro was a doad tilenee. Mr. Bidwci. his mouth open, bieathing audibly, stood staring upon Lord Noithborough':; impassive visage. The fair-bearded man got to his foot vith «'i jerk. "Thin is a very unlooked-for development," lie said, tiuuiilciilly. "Perhaps liw lordship wouldn't object to committing it to writing?" Old James turned upon him. "Aud who are you, may 1 ask?" r:aid he, Monily. "I represent the Trade. Union I-'cdcia-lion,' returned the other. "riiif stu'ko has our support, my lord. A<- you ato perhaps aware, Mr. J)iinf. our choFon delegate, has accepted another engagement. He's tur.icd traitor. J have bi'fn tclectud in his place by our committee. I'm Bon Croal." "Arc you, indeed" Mud old James. "I've nothing to do with «ll that. I've nothing to say to you at all." He turned to the inontioiilo'is Bidwell, "Xow Mr. Bidwell, what about it? The strike's olf, I reckon." "I'm Kurc we're all very much oolij;crl to your lordship," smd Mr. BHwell. "It's more than we looked for, I must" say, my loui. and --and I'm pure wc'lo deeply obliged j.JI on us." The spokesman tat down sinihl .murmurs "f tipjirovnl. Old' Stephen Oakrosbn-n , sitting in tliO nackgrouml, neither moved nor [.poke, his dark intent (jn/e Hardline from 0110 to another in that sii.uijtc little as.'cnibly. "Now it's my turn, by your leave. ]'\e got a pu>po.ril to make," iccir.iied old James. "But 1 wibh you to understand

quite clearly that I make it of my own fsee uill. Tin* stiike, or thuc htllke, 01 any prospect of a strike, has nought to do with it. Ihii Trade Union, or t'other, hu3 nought to do with it. I'm addressing you, as workers, union or not. Is that clear?" "Yes, sir,"' said Mr. Bidwell. " I rpservo my assent,"' said Mr. Croal, the fair-bearded man. "You may v cseivo yourself for the devil," said old James, turning so fiercely upon the Labour champion, that he recoiled in his chair. " It's me that's taking now, and in my own house, and if you don't care to hearken, you may w.ilk out of that there door." After waiting a moment for a reply, his lordtJiip removed his eyes from his discomfited adversary, and faced his own people. " Now you all know Mr. Boscawen," he went on. " It's none so long since he was your parson, and a parson as was every one's friend, so I'm told. I'll ask him to explain the matter j^and I tell you at the start 'twas Mr. -Bo&cawen suggested it to me, and her ladyship here who asked him to do do it. So now you know." Tom Boscawen, paper in hand, began to explain the new scheme. Lady Ida, flushed' and bright-eyed, looked from the alert and kindly countenance of the parson to the stolid hard-featured workera. She was watching the breaking of the dawn of tho New Era. The scheme provided for the complete reconstruction of the business upon a co-operative basis : the workers to be paid at not less than the trade union rate of wages, and to be entitled to g share of the profits, so that every worker became a partner in the concern. The deputation listened without the slightest change of exprpssioo. A short discussion followed, and they retired to the adjoining room to consider the matter. Returning, Mr. Bidwell begged respectfully to inform his lordship that his kind offer was respectfully declined. "My lord," said old Oakenshaw, stepping to the front, " speaking for myself, I would say that your proposal realises the dreams of reformers for fifty years and more. There's nothing can be better. But the trade union objects. '" "The principle of co-operation is not approved by us," said Mr. Croal, witn sublime assurance. "Hah!" said old James. "Mr. Bidwell, do you follow the orders of tho union?" "Wo can't do nought else," replied tha stout man, who manifested a pamful embarrassment. " Then this meeting is now closed," said his lordship, rising. Lady Ida stayed to hear no more. She quitted the room and stood in the great red carpeted hall, and stiove to i'a,ce her defeat. Alas, for the dawn of the New Era! Its light was quenched. Lady Ida saw all her hopes frustrated, and all her world toppling i« ruins about her ears. Standing there, to her excited fancy, iihe seemed to see chat desirablo fabric, vast as the cope c? heaven, dissolving like a dream, and the leaden barriers 01 the actual implacably closing about her. Even in that moment, as she sought for courage, the gIpAV of a formless idea shono in her mind, and was again obscured, as the light of a room illumines the darkness without between the opening and closing of a door. What was it? It had come to her in liko manner, with its promise ot nope, as she was returning to her father. What was it? " Mr. Blundell i§ in the drawing-room, my lady," said the butler. She 'had forgotten all about poor George. Of course, he had come to say good bye. When so much had fallen bodily out of hor life it was only fitting that he should leave her too. "Is — is anything the matter?" said Mr. Blundell, with an expression of bitch extreme consternation, that Lady Ida. was constrained to sniiJo. ." Why, yes," she said f " I don't pretend there isn't. Only it wouldn't in terest you, Mr. Blundell." " I don't think it's fair to say that, you Know," said George, quietly. "I — I can only hope it's nothing serious." " No — oh. no," she returned. "I ni beaten, that's all. Fairly beaten." George looked down upon her with a simple kindliness whose mute appeal was irresistiblo, and Lady Ida told him all. As she talked it seemed to her as though sho were listening to the voice of some one else, while she herself was intently watching the glow of that mysterious idea waxing brighter in the deep of her thoughts. " I don't see anything wrong," said George, cogitating. " I don't, really.'" Jfo paused, and then broke out suddenly : "I think you've dono splendidly, Ida — My dear girl . . ." The light flashed into radianco now. Was this, then, what it meant? Why, to it would appear. A little while afterwards the door opened, and Cissy Lant came in, leading Mr. Richard Dane by the hand. The red face of the whilom Labour leader wore a remarkable expression of mingled triumph, shame, and defiance. " Dick wouldn't come in," said Cissy-, "though he's going- away to-morrow, because ihat there trade unionist chap called him traitor to his face. A good job if some more of 'em was the samo sort of traitors, I say. Dick ought to bo proud, I tell him." "My lady," Dick Dane broke in flushing darkly, his great voico booming, " Cissy forgets to say 'twas sho wouldn't face you without me. She's turned traitor, too. She — she's going to be married." " Why, Cissy, so am I !" cried Lady Ida ; and in a moment the room became filled with faces. Thero were her father, and Tom Boscawcu, and Stephen Oakenshaw, and the mill-hands of tho deputation, an rl <ho nest moment ol j Oakenshaw was speaking with his clean, high intonation. "•My friends here wish to thank yo-.i, my iad.y. His lordship tells us that th" new scheme is duo to you> and that, in spite of the trade- union, the offer remains open permanently. Their dictator, Ben Croal, has gone, but not before I told him, in the presence of ull, that he was wrong. He is wrong. But ho'll sco right in time, and if he doesn't his people will. My lady, I'm an old man, and I've bonus part in many a bitter fight (hut seemed hopehs.i , aud 0110 thing I vis learned : that no wrongican last for over. "Via self-doomrd. What you have begun to-day will continue. Never fear for that." He paused. Out in tho dark street rang the yelping oi' a newsboy : " Latest Avar iie\vt> ! Defeat of tho British ! Heavy losses !" and went rlamouiing into the distance. Old Oakenslmw flung up his brad and lvtihed His light, hand, and his oy. j s glowod. " Hark!" lip cried. He di'opp?d hi;: hand and spoke very slowly an I low. "Ay."' ho said, "I have heard that cry before — not onco nor twice — but the i.lur of England shines still. . . . Wo follow tho Mar." — L. Cope Cornford, in St. James's Budget.