nly common in men of this
type. Just now his tone was bitter.

"Well, it's a change for the better anyhow, Bill," said the other, who
was large, dark, stolid, and kindly. "They've shortened our hours, and
allowed the shillin' a week extry. That's something."

"Oh, everything's something. I hain't seen no call to go down on my
marrer-bones yet, though. You allays did slop over at nothing, Nate."

"Oh, but what's the use o' bein' so everlastingly cranky and
onreasonable?"

"I ain't onreasonable. I say it's you're that, when you're so pleased
with the least thing. See here! Did you ever see a big boss that would
go halvers with his men in flush times, and of his own notion pay 'em
extry? No, you never did. But when the fires are mostly out, oh! then we
must live on half wages and be thunderin' thankful to git that. I say
there ain't one o' them that cares a copper cent for one of us, 'cept
just for what he can git outen us. I'm blessed if I believe they even
think of us as men at all--just lump us off with the machinery, like.
One man, one blowpipe, one marver--and the man least 'count of all."

The other chuckled softly, then waved his hand towards a group of
shapely cottages off at the right.

"When you get into one o' them new houses, with a piazzer acrost the
front, and plenty of windows, and a grass plot, and see Lucy washin'
dishes at the little white sink with the hot and cold water runnin' free
out of silver fassets, and know you don't have to tote your
drinkin'-water a block, and ketch what rain-water you can in a bar'l,
you won't feel so gritty, Bill!"

The other smiled somewhat sheepishly, pleased in spite of himself at the
picture, but rallied to the challenge with--

"But what's it all _for_? That's what gets me. I can't and won't pay no
more rent, and that's settled."

"Don't be allays looking fur traps, Bill."

"And don't you be walkin' into 'em open-eyed, Nate. No sir, you mark me!
We ain't got to heaven yet, and in this world o' woe folks don't go and
spend a big lot o' money just to make it easier fur the folks that's
under 'em--'tisn't nater."

"It mayn't be your nater, nor mine, but it may be some folkses. Well,
argy as you may, the place don't look the same, now does it? D'ye mind
the houses they've finished off? Well they're leveling off the yards
around 'em, and seedin' 'em to grass. Fact! I see it myself. And 'nother
thing. They're filling up that old flat-iron place, where we used to