t stuck and
the piston jammed and I couldn't say a word.

"But," he continued, warming up, "when I think of the Indian powwow we had
in this very spot six months ago,--and what a mean bloat I was, going to
the stub-tail dogs with my hat over my eyes,--and what a hard lot we were
all round, livin' on nothing but argee whiskey, and rampin' off on
benders, instead of makin' good iron,--and how the Works was flat
broke,--and how Dunderbunk was full of women crying over their husbands
and mothers ashamed of their sons,--boys, when I think how things was, and
see how they are, and look at Mr. Wade standing there like a"--

Bill hesitated for a comparison.

"Like a thousand of brick," Perry Purtett suggested, _sotto voce_.

The Chairman took this as a hint to himself.

"Like a thousand of brick," he said, with the voice of a Stentor.

Here the audience roared and cheered, and the Orator got a fresh start.

"When you came, Mr. Wade," he resumed, "we was about sick of putty-heads
and sneaks that didn't know enough or didn't dare to make us stand round
and bone in. You walked in, b'ilin' over with grit. You took hold as if
you belonged here. You made things jump like a two-headed tarrier. All we
wanted was a live man, to say, 'Here, boys, all together now! You've got
your stint, and I've got mine. I'm boss in this shop,--but I can't do the
first thing, unless every man pulls his pound. Now, then, my hand is on
the throttle, grease the wheels, oil the walves, poke the fires, hook on,
and let's yank her through with a will!'"

At this figure the meeting showed a tendency to cheer. "Silence!" Perry
sternly suggested. "Silence!" repeated the Chair.

"Then," continued the Orator, "you wasn't one of the uneasy kind, always
fussin' and cussin' round. You wasn't always spyin' to see we didn't take
home a cross-tail or a hundred-weight of cast-iron in our pants' pockets,
or go to swiggin' hot metal out of the ladles on the sly."

Here an enormous laugh requited Bill's joke. Perry prompted, the Chair
banged with his bolt and cried, "Order!"

"Well, now, boys," Tarbox went on, "what has come of having one of the
right sort to be boss? Why, this. The Works go ahead, stiddy as the North
River. We work full time and full-handed. We turn out stuff that no shop
needs to be ashamed of. Wages is on the nail. We have a good time
generally. How is that, boys,--Mr. Chairman and Gentlemen?"

"That's so!" from everybody.

"And there's som