Читать книгу Here's Another - Lennie Lower - Страница 8

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A considerable number of Socialistic reformers advocate the cultivation of class-consciousness.

Having recently had two winning days at the ponies, and being now a capitalist, I cannot agree with them.

Noah was the first man to make the lion and the lamb sleep in the same bunk, and he, being the forerunner of Inchcape and the only man to have a menagerie and a monopoly at the same time, is entitled to some respect.

To emphasise the difference between a capitalist and a worker is to emphasise the difference between the former's income and the latter's.

Which is manifestly unfair.

Speaking as a capitalist, I would like it noted that while recognising the enormous gulf which stretches between the ordinary worker and the man of wealth who has had two successful days at the ponies, I still think that the gap should be bridged.

It would not take much bridging, and with the worker viewing life in the same way as the capitalist, it would not be long before he realised his responsibilities as a worker and ceased to be discontented.

Various highly-placed personages have expressed the opinion that at least one span might be extended across the gulf if the working classes would only learn to speak with the same faultless diction as their masters.

A very good idea, and one that could be easily put into operation.

For the purposes of demonstrating the ease of it, we will examine its operation on a member, say, of the building trade.

The member of the building trade is seeking a job. He approaches the foreman.

Removing his hat, he says: "Pardon me, old chap; but I am seeking employment. If I can be of any assistance to you in the furtherance of your designs, I would be delighted to devote my time to your service at the usual rate."

Sounds jolly, doesn't it?

Much better than, "Anything doin', Joe?"

You see the idea?

Then there is the matter of dress. It would entail no hardship for a hod-carrier to come to work decently attired.

The spats and morning coat could be removed when commencing work, and the silk hat stowed away in the tucker box. It would, of course, be necessary to wear gloves while working, but, then, all tools being fitted with ivory handles, the wear and tear would not be so very great.

And the social side must not be neglected. It would be a simple and courteous gesture of hospitality if the mortar-mixers were "At Home" on Saturday afternoons to the brick-layers. The hod-carriers could give a little soiree for the plasterers, and the foreman could be made the guest of honor at the tea-boys' coming out party, and so on.

Everything would be nice and sociable, and the contractor and owner of the building would have no hesitation in inviting a select number of refined workers to meet the architect and ride out on the Ford lorry.

Courtesy need not stop at these little social events. It can and should be practised all the time.

Little thoughtful actions, like bringing flowers to the foreman, and perhaps an occasional cigar for the employer, all help to sweeten life and keep the social amenities well oiled.

Going further, concerts could be held in the lunch interval.

In the presence of good, refined music, classconsciousness is sunk, and the worker is elevated by the Muse to the level of his superiors.

And that is just what we want. Unity of outlook, the worker seeing eye to eye with the capitalist, and restraining from unreasonable requests for higher wages.

Well, then, the concert!

Operatic music is good, but being sung mostly in a foreign language, it lacks the quality of sympathy that binds the classes together.

Songs such as "We're Here Because We're Here" and "Paddy McGinty's Goat" are, of course, impossible. What we want, then, is suitable English words set to operatic music.

I'll try and show you what I mean.

We will suppose it is lunch time. Gentlemen engaged on the job are sitting, chatting idly, discussing personalities and the latest Vice-Regal reception.

The foreman waves his baton, and the concert commences.

Something like this:

Bricklayers: "Oh! The bally old bricks we jolly well lay."

Hod-carriers: "Too true, they jolly well lay them!"

Bricklayers: "We lay them neatly—just this way" (demonstrating).

Employers, Foremen, etc.: "And we have to jolly well pay them!"

Chorus:

Mortar-mixers: "Oh! We mix, mix, mix!"

Bricklayers: "And we lay, lay, lay!"

Hod-carriers: "And we hod, hod, hod!"

Employers, etc.: "And we pay, pay, pay!"

And so it goes on.

Now just think what an enormous difference this would make!

The refinement! The good feeling and fellowship! It would be a common occurrence for two hod-carriers to pause at the foot of a ladder and bow, murmuring at the same time, "After you, sir!"

Isn't this much better than swearing at the foreman, and trying to drop a brick on the boss?

Of course it is.

Well, go to it. Attaboy!

I, myself, having had two good days at the ponies—I think I have mentioned this before—but what I mean to say is that I'd like to see you workers drag yourselves up to my level and drop all this class-conscious stuff.

On the other hand, if you wait till after the next pony meeting, I may be with you. In which case the gap will be bridged by a punt!