prudence; Let us show we've no alarms. Sprung from a
monarch glorious,(28) To-day we'll not grow pale, Whether we win the
fight, or fail, Whether we die, or are victorious! Children of Solomon,
mighty king, All your efforts together bring, Till in triumph we shall
sing!"
Morok and Jacques had disappeared whilst the tumultuous troop were
leaving the tavern to hasten to the factory.
(27) Let it be noted, to the working-man's credit, that such outrageous
scenes become more and more rare as he is enlightened to the full
consciousness of his worth. Such better tendencies are to be attributed
to the just influence of an excellent tract on trades' union written
by M. Agricole Perdignier, and published in 1841, Paris. This author, a
joiner, founded at his own expense an establishment in the Faubourg St.
Antoine, where some forty or fifty of his trade lodged, and were given,
after the day's work, a course of geometry, etc., applied to wood
carving. We went to one of the lectures, and found as much clearness
in the professor as attention and intelligence in the audience. At ten,
after reading selections, all the lodgers retire, forced by their scanty
wages to sleep, perhaps, four in a room. M. Perdignier informed us that
study and instruction were such powerful ameliorators, that, during
six years, he had only one of his lodgers to expel. "In a few days,"
he remarked, "the bad eggs find out, this is no place for them to addle
sound ones!" We are happy to hear, reader, public homage to a learned
and upright man, devoted to his fellow-workmen.
(28) The Wolves (among others) ascribe the institution of their company
to King Solomon. See the curious work by M. Agricole Perdignier, from
which the war-song is extracted.
CHAPTER L. THE COMMON DWELLING-HOUSE
Whilst the Wolves, as we have just seen, prepared a savage attack on
the Devourers, the factory of M. Hardy had that morning a festal air,
perfectly in accordance with the serenity of the sky; for the wind was
from the north, and pretty sharp for a fine day in March. The clock had
just struck nine in the Common Dwelling-house of the workmen, separated
from the workshops by a broad path planted with trees. The rising sun
bathed in light this imposing mass of buildings, situated a league from
Paris, in a gay and salubrious locality, from which were visible the
woody and picturesque hills, that on this side overlook the great city.
Nothing could be plainer, and yet more c
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