“I know a tillygraft op’rator, wan iv thim knights iv th’ key that has a fine job in a counthry deepo.  All he has to do is to be up in time to flag number eight at six o’clock an’ wait till number thirty-two goes through at midnight, keep thrains fr’m bumpin’ into each other, turn switches, put up th’ simaphore, clean th’ lamps an’ hand out time tables an’ sell tickets.  F’r these dissypations he dhraws down all th’ way fr’m fifteen to twinty dollars a week.  An’ he wants to sthrike.  An’ th’ pa-apers say if he does he’ll tie up our impeeryal railroad systems.  Think iv that.  I never had much iv an opinyon iv him.  All he iver done f’r me was to misspell me name.  He’s a little thin man that cudden’t lift an eighth iv beer with both hands, but he’s that important if he leaps his job we’ll all have to walk.

“I’ve often thought I’d like to have th’ walkin’ dillygate iv th’ Liquor Dealers’ Binivolent Assocyation come around an’ ordher me to lay down me lemon squeezer an’ bung starter an’ walk out.  But nawthin’ iv th’ kind iver happens an’ if it did happen no wan wud care a sthraw.  Th’ whole wurruld shuddhers at th’ thought that me frind Ike Simpson, the tillygraft op’rator, may take a day off:  but me or Pierpont Morgan might quit f’r a year an’ no wan wud care.  Supposin’ Rockyfellar an’ Pierpont Morgan an’ Jim Hill shud form a union, an’ shud demand a raise iv a millyon dollars a year, reduction iv wurrukin’ time fr’m two to wan hour ivry week, th’ closed shop, two apprentices f’r each bank an’ no wan allowed to make money onless he cud show a union card?  Whin th’ sthrike comity waited on us we’d hoist our feet on th’ kitchen table, light a seegar, polish our bone collar button with th’ sleeve iv our flannel shirt an’ till thim to go to Bannagher.

“We’d say:  ‘Ye’er demands are onraisonable an’ we will not submit.  F’r years we have run th’ shop almost at a loss.  There are plenty iv men to take ye’er places.  They may not be as efficient at first but they’ll soon larn.  Ye’er demands are refused an’ ye can bang th’ dure afther ye.’  A fine chanct a millyonaire wud have thryin’ to persuade ye be peaceful means fr’m takin’ his job.  Think iv him on th’ dead line thryin’ to coax ye not to go in but to stand by him as he would sit on ye if you were in th’ same position.  Wud ye or wud ye not lave ye’er coat in his hands as ye plunged in th’ bank?  They’d have to resort to vilence.  Th’ stock exchange wud go out in sympathy.  Th’ milishy wud be called out an’ afther awhile th’ financeers wud come back with their hats in their hands an’ find their old places took be other men.

“No, sir, a sthrike iv financeers wudden’t worry anny wan.  ’Tis a sthrange thing whin we come to think iv it that th’ less money a man gets f’r his wurruk, th’ more nicissry it is to th’ wurruld that he shud go on wurrukin’.  Ye’er boss can go to Paris on a combination wedding an’ divoorce thrip an’ no wan bothers his head about him.  But if ye shud go to Paris—­excuse me f’r laughin’ mesilf black in th’ face—­th’ industhrees iv the counthry pines away.