no one could come into his foundry and
tell him how to run his business--same old stuff, you know. Well, then,
the Methodist Johnny took a hand. What's his name? Haynes, isn't it?"

"Yes, Haynes," said Hugh Maynard.

"Well, Brother Haynes took up the tale. He is an eloquent chap, all
right. He took the line 'As you are strong, be pitiful,' but the
psychological moment had gone and the line still held strong. Campbell
of the woollen mills invited him up to view his $25,000.00 stock 'all
dressed up and nowhere to go.' 'Tell me how I can pay increased wages
with this stock on my hands.' And echo answered 'How?' Haynes could not.
Then my old chief took a hand--the Reverend Murdo Matheson. He is a good
old scout, a Padre, you know--regular fire-eater--a rasping voice and
grey matter oozing from his pores. My governor says he abandoned the
frontal attack and took them on the flank. Opened up with a dose of
economics that made them sit up. And when he got through on this line,
he made every man feel that it was entirely due to the courtesy and
forbearance of the union that he was allowed to carry on business at
all. He spiked Brother McGinnis's guns by informing him that if he
was harbouring the idea that he owned a foundry all on his own, he was
labouring under a hallucination. All he owned was a heap of brick and
mortar and some iron and steel junk arranged in some peculiar way. In
fact, there was no foundry there till the workmen came in and started
the wheels going round. Old McGinnis sat gasping like a chicken with
the pip. Then the Padre turned on the 'Liberty of the subject' stop as
follows: 'Mr. McGinnis insists upon liberty to run his foundry as he
likes; insists upon perfect freedom of action. There is no such thing
as perfect freedom of action in modern civilisation. For instance, Mr.
McGinnis rushing to catch a train, hurls his Hudson Six gaily down Main
Street thirty miles an hour, on the left-hand side of the street. A
speed cop sidles up, whispers a sweet something in his ear, hails him
ignominiously into court and invites him to contribute to the support
of the democracy fifty little iron men as an evidence of his devotion
to the sacred principle of personal liberty. In short, there is no such
thing as personal liberty in this burg, unless it is too late for the
cop to see.' The governor says McGinnis's face afforded a perfect study
in emotions. I should have liked to have seen it. The Padre never took
his foo