Collected Works of Booth Tarkington

by Booth Tarkington

  MIFFLIN: Why, just taking them!

  GIBSON: By force?

  MIFFLIN [deprecatingly but affably]: Oh, we hope the theoretical owners won’t reduce them to such extremes. There might be a few cases that law-abiding citizens would regret; but that isn’t the big thing. Our work here is so far perhaps on the small scale, but it shows — it shows — that everything must be on a coöperative basis!

  GIBSON: Everything? My house, too?

  MIFFLIN [beaming]: Your house, too.

  GIBSON [amiably]: How about your gold eyeglasses?

  MIFFLIN [laughing]: Those will be given me by the state. But seriously, aren’t you coming to pay us a visit at the factory?

  GIBSON: Since you ask me — what’s the best time? I suppose the whistle doesn’t blow as early as it used to.

  MIFFLIN [laughing pityingly]: Whistle! Oh, my dear sir! This only confirms me in my old idea that the technical owners didn’t have practical minds. You don’t suppose we abolished you, and then didn’t abolish the whistle? That whistle hurt self-respect. Really I’m sorry it’s Sunday and I can’t take you over there this minute to see the great changes. Talk about collectivism! That factory is the most interesting place in the world to-day. When the men were working eight long hours a day under a master it was all repression, reserve; their individualities were stifled. Now they expand!

  GIBSON: You mean they talk a good deal?

  MIFFLIN: I never have been in a place where there was so much talk in my life. They talk all the time; it shows they are thinking.

  GIBSON: Isn’t it noisy?

  MIFFLIN [delighted]: It is! Every man has his own ideas and he expresses them. It means a freshness and originality in the work that never got into it before.

  GIBSON [worried]: Originality? You don’t mean to say they’ve changed any of the features of The Gibson Upright.

  MIFFLIN: Oh, no; it’s the same piano — and yet different! I almost feel I could tell the difference by looking at one. There’s no change; yet now it has character. And those men — those men, Mr. Gibson — it’s brought out their character so! They’re thinking all the time.

  GIBSON: They’re working, too, of course?

  MIFFLIN: Working! You never saw men work under the old capitalistic régime, Mr. Gibson! Don’t think that this work is the driven, dogged thing it was when they had to. This is work with dignity, with enthusiasm, with spontaneity!

  GIBSON [rising, very thoughtful]: Well, I ought to hope that it is, of course!

  [He walks to and fro a moment, then comes and rests his hands on the back of a chair, looking at MIFFLIN.]

  Mr. Mifflin, I went into this with open eyes. I was angry at the time, but I had thought of it often. And when I went out I went out! Now I’ve kept away and I don’t intend to do any prying — as a matter of fact, I’m only back here for two or three days — but I have some natural curiosity, especially about certain particulars.

  MIFFLIN: Everything is as open as the sunlight — no capitalistic secret machinations. Ask anything you like!

  GIBSON: Well, then, do you happen to know what are the profits for these four months?

  MIFFLIN: Frankly, that’s a detail I don’t know. But I do know that everyone is delighted and that the profits have been large.

  GIBSON: And no friction among the men?

  MIFFLIN: No — I — no, none at all; no friction; nothing that could be called friction at all.

  GIBSON: Then it’s a complete success?

  MIFFLIN: Absolutely! Why, just let me picture it to you, Mr. Gibson. Don’t you understand, these men are not hirelings now; they’re comrades, a brotherhood! You should see them as they come from the factory in the warm afternoon sunshine. They stop in groups and continue discussions of matters of interest that have come up during the day. You hear the most eager discussion, such spirited repartee; and in the factory itself these groups gather at any time. When there may be some tiny bit of friction it is disposed of amicably, comrade to comrade. And some of the wives of the workmen have taken the greatest interest! Imagine under the capitalistic régime a wife coming and sitting at her husband’s side and taking up little matters of importance with him, as a wife should, while he worked! Oh, the wives have caught the idea, too! They’re proprietresses just as much as their husbands are proprietors. And you can see how keenly they feel the responsibility and want to share in settling all questions that come up. Then they walk home with their husbands, talking it all over. Mr. Gibson, I tell you, sometimes it has moved me. More than once I have found my eyes moistening as I watched it.

  GIBSON: And do you happen to know — well, haven’t the men felt the need for a certain kind of general management of the institution’s affairs?

  MIFFLIN: Oh, that’s all met — all met by meetings of the governing board, the committee.

  GIBSON: No; I meant, hasn’t any need been felt for a man with a certain specialized knowledge? Say, for instance, to deal with the purchasing of raw materials?

  MIFFLIN [somewhat vague and puzzled]: I think they did do this through an individual for a time. I think the head bookkeeper was given charge of such matters; at least I think so. But probably they found that the creation of such an office was unnecessary. Purely clerical work. At least I haven’t seen him about for several weeks.

  GIBSON: Was he there on just one share of the profits?

  MIFFLIN: Why, of course! That is the sine qua non.

  GIBSON [thoughtfully]: I see. [Paces up and down and halts again.]

  So you say everybody is happy?

  MIFFLIN: Radiant!

  GIBSON: Everybody?

  MIFFLIN [beaming]: Come and see!

  GIBSON: Ah — Miss Gorodna seems to like it all, does she?

  MIFFLIN: Does she!

  GIBSON [a little falsely]: None of them are happier than she is, I suppose?

  MIFFLIN: Miss Gorodna is the radiant, joyous sunshine of the whole place!

  GIBSON [somewhat ruefully]: Well, that’s pleasant news.

  [ELLA appears from the house.]

  ELLA: It’s that old Ed Carter from the factory, Mr. Gibson. He heard from Tom Riley you was expected back and he’s come to call on you.

  GIBSON: Tell him to come right out. [Sees CARTER beyond ELLA.] Come out here, Carter! Glad to see you!

  [They shake hands. CARTER is unchanged as to head and whiskers, but wears a square-cut black frock coat, or “Prince Albert,” with trousers and waistcoat of the same material; old brown shoes, a derby hat, a blue satin four-in-hand tie.]

  CARTER: How do you do, Mr. Gibson! I just thought I’d pay my respects, as Tom Riley passed the word round the factory you was coming back.

  GIBSON: Sit down, sit down!

  MIFFLIN [exuberantly]: How do you do, Carter, how do you do! [They shake hands and MIFFLIN pats CARTER on the shoulder.] Look at him, Mr. Gibson! Look at him! Don’t you see what the New Freedom has done for him? It’s in his eye! That pride of liberty! It’s in his step, in every gesture he makes. [CARTER strokes his whiskers.] You’re old friends — equal now, equal at last. I won’t disturb you! [Picks up his hat, magazines, and umbrella.] He can give you more than I can, Mr. Gibson. Good afternoon! Good afternoon!

  [He goes out through the gate.]

  GIBSON: Sit down, Carter. Sit down! [They sit.] Well, is everything fine?

  CARTER [heartily]: Yes, sir! It is, Mr. Gibson! Indeed it is! [Glances with some little pride at his clothes.] I couldn’t of expected no finer. Fact is, I never could of asked for anything like this, even if I’d been a praying man.

  GIBSON: Well, I’m glad to hear it, Carter!

  CARTER: I knowed you would be, Mr. Gibson. It’s all just wonderful the way things are working out!

  GIBSON: Everything is working out just right, is it?

  CARTER: Oh, I don’t say everything! They’s bound to be some little mites here and there. You know that yourself.

  GIBSON [grimly]: Yes, I do! What are your little mites, Carter?

  CARTER: Well, what
mostly gits my goat is this here Simpson’s wife, Mrs.

  Simpson.

  GIBSON: What bothers you about Simpson’s wife?

  CARTER: Well, what I says, woman’s place is the home, and this here Mrs.

  Simpson — I — I never could stand no loud, gabby woman!

  GIBSON: You’re not neighbours, are you?

  CARTER: No! She spends all her days at the factory; you might think she was running the whole place! What’s worse’n that, you know they elected me chairman o’ the governing committee, and she’s all the time trying to ‘lectioneer me out. What she wants is to git Simpson in for chairman; that’d be jest same’s her bein’ chairman herself, the way she runs Simpson! That’s the only thing that worries me. Everything else is just splendid, splendid!

  GIBSON: I understand you don’t blow the whistle any more. What hours are you working now?

  CARTER: Well, first we thought we ought to work about six; but we got on such a good basis a good many of them are talkin’ how they think that’s too much. It’d suit me either way. That ain’t the trouble over at that factory, Mr. Gibson.

  GIBSON: What is the trouble over at that factory?

  CARTER [with feeling]: Mr. Gibson, it’s the inequality. Look at me now, and look at Simpson. Simpson and his wife haven’t got a child, and I got seven, every one of ’em to support, and my married daughter lost her husband and got a shock, and I got her and her three little ones pretty much on my hands. And Simpson draws down every cent as much as what I do; just exactly the same. And if the truth was told he don’t work as much as what I do. Then, look at them bachelors; they ain’t got nobody to support! Well, that’s got to be settled!

  GIBSON: How are you going to settle it?

  CARTER [cheerfully]: Oh, the committee meetin’ settles everything by vote. I’d of put a motion about these matters at some o’ the meetings long ago except I’m chairman and they worked a rule on me the chairman can’t put motions. But some of us got it fixed up to git it put over at the meeting to-morrow. That’s the big meeting to-morrow — the monthly one. Don’t misunderstand me, Mr. Gibson; I ain’t makin’ no complaint about these here details, because everything else is so splendid and prosperous it seems like this here New Dawn Mr. Mifflin called it in his article.

  GIBSON: Nothing else worries you then, Carter?

  CARTER: Nothing else in the world, Mr. Gibson. Except there might be some of ’em don’t take their responsibilities the way I could wish. Fact is, there’s so much talkin’ gits to goin’ over there sometimes you can’t hear yourself work. Me? I’m an honest worker, if I work for you or work for myself. But I can’t claim they’re all that way. Some that used to loaf, you can’t claim they don’t loaf more than they did; yes, sir!

  GIBSON: They get just the same as you do, though, don’t they?

  CARTER: Oh, yes! That’s the sinee que none; it’s the brotherhood between comrades. I don’t mean to complain, but they’s one thing that don’t look to me just fair. It took me four years to learn my trade and I’m a skilled workman, and now some Hunnyacks that just sends strips along through a chute — and it’s all they do know how to do — they used to git two and a half a day to my six, but this way we both git just the same. I says something about it didn’t seem right to me, and one them Hunnyacks called me a boor-jaw. Well, then I talked to Miss Gorodna about it.

  GIBSON: What did Miss Gorodna say?

  CARTER: Miss Gorodna says: “But you both get enough, don’t you?”

  GIBSON: Well, don’t you?

  CARTER [scratching his head]: Yes, plenty; and it sounds all right, them and me gittin’ the same; but I can’t just seem to work it out in my mind how it is right. [Cheering up.] Mr. Mifflin says himself, though, it’s just wonderful! And we certainly are makin’ great money!

  GIBSON: Then all you poor are getting rich?

  CARTER: Yes; looks like we will be.

  [During these speeches NORA has appeared, or rather her head and shoulders have, above the hedge. She has come along the hedge and now stands halting at the gate. She wears a becoming autumn dress and hat, in excellent taste; carries a slim umbrella. She has a beautifully bound book in her hand.]

  NORA [opening the gate]: Do you mind my coming in the side gate, Mr.

  Gibson?

  [GIBSON, startled by her voice, turns abruptly from CARTER

  to stare at her, speaks after a pause, slowly.]

  GIBSON: No, I don’t mind what gate you come in.

  NORA [coming down to join them]: How do you do! [Gives him her hand.]

  GIBSON: How do you do!

  CARTER [on the other side of her]: How do you do, Miss Gorodna!

  NORA [for a brief moment confused that she has not noticed Carter]: Oh — oh, how do you do, Mr. Carter! [Turns and shakes hands with him. She turns again, facing GIBSON.] I just heard you were here. I wanted to bring you this copy of Montaigne — if you’ll forgive me for keeping it a year.

  GIBSON: I gave it to you. Don’t you — remember?

  NORA: Yes, I — remember. But things were different then. Please. I think I oughtn’t to keep it now. [He takes it, places it gently upon the table; they sit facing each other; she speaks more cheerfully and briskly.] I came to see you on a matter of business, too.

  CARTER: Well, then, I’ll just be —

  NORA: Oh, no! Please stay, Mr. Carter! It’s a factory matter. [CARTER coughs and sits. NORA continues, not pausing for that.] It was about that great stock of wire you had your purchasing agent buy just before the — before you went away, Mr. Gibson.

  GIBSON: I’m glad to see you looking so well, Miss Gorodna.

  NORA: Thank you! If you remember, you must have ordered him to buy all the wire of our grade that was in the market at that time. At any rate, we found ourselves in possession of an enormous stock that would have lasted us about three years.

  GIBSON: Yes. That’s what I wanted.

  NORA: As it happened it turned out to be a very good investment, Mr. Gibson, because in less than a month it had gained about nine per cent. in value, and three weeks ago a man came to us and offered to take it off our hands at a price giving us a twenty-two per cent. profit!

  GIBSON: Yes; I should think he would.

  NORA: So of course we sold it.

  GIBSON [checks an exclamation, merely saying]: Did you?

  NORA: Naturally we did! Twenty-two per cent. profit in that short time! Now it just happens that we’ve got to buy some more ourselves, and we can’t get hold of any, even at the price that we sold it, because it seems to have kept going up. I thought perhaps you might know where to get some at the price you bought the other, and you mightn’t mind telling us.

  GIBSON: No; I wouldn’t mind telling you. I’d like to tell you.

  NORA: You think there isn’t any?

  GIBSON: I’m sure there isn’t any.

  NORA: Then I’m afraid we’ll have to get some back from the people we sold to. Of course I’m anxious to show the great financial improvement as well as other improvements. That’s partly my province and Mr. Carter’s, our committee chairman, besides our regular work.

  GIBSON: Mr. Mifflin tells me that you had a sort of general manager for a while at first.

  CARTER: Oh, that was Hill, the head bookkeeper. He left. He was a traitor to the comrades.

  GIBSON: Hill? He knew quite a little about the business. Why did he leave?

  CARTER: Why, that Coles-Hibbard factory went and offered him a big salary to come over there; more than he thought he could get coöperatin’ with us.

  NORA: Hill was always a capitalist at heart. We certainly haven’t needed him!

  CARTER: Oh, everybody was glad to get rid of Hill! Better off without him — better off without him!

  GIBSON: I suppose it was really an economy, his going?

  NORA [smiling]: It resulted in economy.

  GIBSON: Have you made many economies?

  NORA: Oh, a great many!

  CARTER: Oh, my! Yes!

  N
ORA: Economies! [Her manner now is indulgent, amused, friendly, almost pitying.] Mr. Gibson, have you any realization of what you threw away at that place? Don’t be afraid, I’ll never bring you the figures. I wouldn’t do such a thing to anybody!

  GIBSON: Do you think I was too lavish?

  NORA: We couldn’t believe it at first. Just what was being thrown away on advertising, for instance. The bill you paid for the last month you were there was five thousand dollars!

  CARTER: That was the figger! It’s certainly a good one on you, Mr.

  Gibson.

  NORA: We cut that five thousand dollars down to three hundred! That was one item of forty-seven hundred dollars a month saved. Just one item!

  CARTER [hilariously]: Quite some item!

  NORA [seriously and gently]: Five thousand dollars a month to advertise a piano that sells for only a hundred and eighty-eight dollars!

  CARTER: That’s the facts!

  NORA: Mr. Gibson, did you really ever have any idea what you were paying in commissions to agents?

  GIBSON: Yes, I did.

  NORA: Why, I can’t believe it! Did you know that you paid them twenty per cent. on each piano? Over thirty-seven dollars!

  GIBSON: Yes.

  NORA: But wasn’t it thrown away? I can’t understand how you kept the factory going so long as you did, with such losses. Why, don’t you know it amounts to hundreds of thousands of dollars a year? When we found it out we couldn’t see how you made both ends meet, and we thought there must have been some mistake, and you’d never realized what advantage these agents were taking of you.

  GIBSON: Yes, I knew what they got.

  NORA [triumphantly]: We cut those commissions from thirty-seven dollars — to twelve! And that’s just one more item among our economies. Now do you wonder at the success we’re making?

  GIBSON: And your profits have been — satisfactory?

  NORA: The very first month our profits were four thousand dollars more than the last month you were there!

  GIBSON: That’s the month you say you cut out four thousand seven hundred dollars’ worth of advertising.

  NORA: And the next month we cut down the commissions, and the profits were five thousand more!

  GIBSON: But those were returns under the old commissions.