mr. walter dunsany and part of his family sailed for liverpool on the following wednesday. the fact was liberally commented on in the newspapers. a squad of reporters saw him off at the pier, and got a statement from him on the country's business prospects.
i must offer my little tribute of admiration to mr. dunsany. i have yet to meet his equal for daring and gameness. middle-aged men are not generally conspicuous for these qualities, and when they are rich into the bargain—why, to hang on to what they've got is usually their highest aim. but mr. dunsany insisted on playing the r?le of danger in our projected drama. he eagerly accepted a part that the most hot-headed young adventurer might have quailed from. i would never have allowed him to go in ahead of me, but unluckily an expert knowledge of gems was required. that he had and i had not. he insisted anyway that i must be free for the general command of all our forces.
twelve days after mr. dunsany's departure, one john mattingly, in appearance a sober, decent, elderly artizan, descended the second-class gangway of one of our speediest ocean ferry-boats, and went to ellis island with the other immigrants. landed in due course at the foot of manhattan island, he gazed at the towering buildings with a wondering eye, and allowed himself to be guided to an humble hotel in the neighbourhood.
i was not there to meet him for a very good reason, but later in the day i received a note apprising me of his arrival. two days later i had another telling me that having presented letters of recommendation, he had been engaged in the gem-setting shops of dunsany and co. i cannot do better than quote from his own reports. far from being the usual cut and dried affairs, they were little human documents of humorous observation.
report of j. m. #2
wednesday, june 3rd.
the morning after i landed, according to our program, i went to dunsany's to apply for a job. i wonder if any merchant before me ever had the experience of besieging the doors of his own shop in a like humble capacity. probably not. i enjoyed the experience. as soon as i opened the door i began to learn things about my own place. i always thought that my democratic ideas encouraged my employees to treat me exactly like one of themselves, but i found that they did not—quite. walking through the aisles i perceived a new atmosphere, a casualness, an indifference in the salesmen which shocked me at first, then made me want to laugh. the joke was on me!
my letter of recommendation, which i had written myself, naturally, gained me the entrée to the present head of the firm, i.e., my son edward. i approached his office with some nervousness. here would be the first grand test of my disguise. would the son recognise his father? and if he did, would he have the wit not to give me away before others? and if he did not, would i be able to keep my own face in the ludicrous situation?
i should say that in the matter of disguise i have followed your instructions carefully. the wig or toupee or transformation with which you furnished me, completely changes my appearance. i have also applied the stubbly beard and short moustache as you showed me how to do. i am letting my own hair grow beneath and will soon be able to leave off the false, which will be a relief as it is both hot and sticky. in addition it occurred to me to leave aside certain dental work which cost me a lot of money. the result is startling, and very satisfactory to our purpose.
my clothes i bought ready-made in a london emporium. need i say more? the hat is a wonder, a sort of decrepit music-master affair of black felt. it is undoubtedly third or fourth hand—or should i say fourth head? i took care to have it well fumigated.
eddie did not recognise me. he favoured me with some sharp glances which discomposed me not a little, but this was only natural caution in engaging an unknown man. in our business we have to be careful. i was well-pleased with eddie's manner, succinct and business-like without a trace of arrogance. much better than my own manner, i dare say.
eddie was plainly annoyed by the situation, nor could i blame him. it was, of course, very irregular. in effect we were breaking the alien labour law, beside opening up the prospect of labour troubles in our own shop. i knew exactly what was passing in the boy's mind, and i was longing to reassure him. instead i had to make believe to be slightly overawed in the presence of my little boy!
he had no choice in the matter, because i had virtually instructed him to employ this mattingly. in addition to the letter of recommendation i had written him from london saying that i was sending such a man, an experienced jewel-setter, i had said, and had described mattingly's appearance, so that he had no need to ask me to identify myself.
finally after asking a number of questions, to all of which i had the answers pat, eddie engaged me. i followed him to an upper floor, hard put to it to keep from grinning at the idea of my boy showing me the way around the place. fortunately the spectacles i wear help me to preserve an owl-like gravity.
he took me to ashley, the foreman of the gem-setting department. ashley has been with us forty years. he is a surly, lovable old crab. it was under ashley that i got my training in handicraft twenty-five years ago. ashley regarded me with no favourable eye, but bowed to the mandate of the head of the firm, of course. he gave me a boy's work cleaning old settings, and kept a sharp watch on me. later i succeeded in mollifying him a little by showing a certificate of good standing in the english jewellers' union, and by asking the name of the local secretary so that i could apply for membership here.
he has not forgiven me, though, for being put in over the youngsters' heads. "a blank-blank furriner!" his irascible eye seems to say. i thought i had taken the measure of the old man's irascibility, having worked under him. and in late years i would have said: "here is one man in my shop who is not afraid to speak his mind to me." but eddie had not been gone five minutes before i found that ashley had never spoken all of his mind to me. i found, too, that his irascibility had been tempered to the boss's son. the boss himself, masquerading as a meek, alien workman, now received the full benefit of it.
i am glad i made the resolution before coming here not to let anything i might learn on the inside, apart from actual dishonesty, influence me in dealing with my men later. already i confess my patience has been tried. i thought i was a radical myself, but i find i am way behind the times. there is one young fellow, mullen by name, a hothead, a socialist, who exasperates me every time he opens his mouth. he is so sure that his crazy ideas are right! yet he is none the worse workman for that. he and old ashley are the leaders of the two elements in the shop, and i'm sorry to say the old man generally comes off second best in their verbal encounters.
during one of their arguments the first day, i was much amused, and a little alarmed, when the talk turned on me.
"you with your socialist talk!" cried ashley to mullen scornfully. "a man would think every boss was a horned devil! there's our old man now, what's the matter with him?"
"i don't know him," said mullen with a leer. "we ain't on visiting terms."
"he talks to us, simple and friendly, just like one of ourselves," said ashley.
"sure!" cried mullen. "it don't cost him nothin'! i ain't seen him give up nothin' but talk, though. that's what he keeps you quiet with, a little soft talk like strokin' the dog!"
"he don't set up to be no more than a man like myself!" said my defender.
"sure, and he is no more!" cried the other. "i've got as good an appetite for my meals as him, and my kids is as strong and handsome as his. but there he is sailing across the ocean in a soot de luxe, and here am i sweating at his bench."
"well, what are you going to do about it?" asked ashley, whereat all the men on his side crowed.
"do?" cried mullen. "i'm goin' to give him fair value for his wages, that's what i'm goin' to do. but i don't have to lick the hand that pats me!"
"a man can do what he likes with his own, i guess," said ashley.
"'tain't his own!" was the surprising answer. "he didn't earn it, did he? it was the surplus that his dad made out of us workmen, and his grand-dad before him."
"his grand-dad started as a workman like ourselves," said ashley. "only he was the best workman, so he went ahead."
"i doubt that," said mullen coolly. "'tain't the best workman that gets ahead, but the sharpest. grand-dad was sharp enough to get ahead of the other workman. all right, i say. let him enjoy what he can get. but does that give his family the right to run us to the end of time?"
"what are you going to do about it?" asked ashley again. all his supporters laughed.
mullen turned to me unexpectedly. "what have you got to say about it, mate? you know what they think about such things across the water. give us your ideas."
"i don't know the boss," i said feebly. "how can i tell?"
"i don't mean him," said mullen scornfully. "he's nothing but a rich man. i mean about labour and capital."
i shook my head.
"ah! they tame them over there just like they do here, i see," said mullen, turning away.
i would like to fire that fellow when i get out of this—but, of course, in common decency i must not.
meanwhile i suppose you are wondering what all this has to do with our case. have patience with me. i am so absolutely alone in my new life, i must have somebody to air my thoughts to. the evenings are the hardest to put in. the club calls me with a siren voice. eddie's wife is away, too, and i think of the boy dining alone. i wish we had taken him into our confidence, but i suppose it was wiser not to.
i have changed my boarding-place. couldn't stand the fare at mrs. mcmahon's. i am now at a french place no. — west 29th street. it is humble enough to suit my altered station in life, but the cooking being french is not impossible. i have mitigated my lot by buying a jug of excellent bordeaux at bardin's, which i have with my dinner without exciting suspicion. i am aiming to get the name of a "character" which will enable me to do pretty much as i please.
the only break i have made so far was upon the avenue yesterday. i was on my way home from work and my wits were wool-gathering. i was dreaming, i suppose, of where i would like to go for dinner. along came warner macklin, an elegant old dandy and a club acquaintance of mine. without thinking, i nodded to him as i would ordinarily. you should have seen his affronted stare. the old snob! anyhow it testifies to the efficacy of my disguise.
if you would like to look me over i will be walking up and down in front of the dairy lunch on thirty-fourth street east of sixth avenue at twelve-thirty to-morrow, thursday. j.m.
report of j. m. #4
tuesday, june 9th
i have not written you since saturday, because there was nothing new to report, and i didn't want to take up your time with any more discussions on labor versus capital. i am receiving a liberal education in these matters, very salutary. after working at my bench all day i find my point of view much changed. but i do not like that mullen fellow!
i am pretty well shaken into my job by now. the local union is considering my application for membership favourably, so i am not a bone of contention in the shop. but i hope there is something more exciting than this ahead.
i have neither seen nor heard anything suspicious in any of my fellow-employees. i would be willing to swear they are all honest, but you have told me, others too, that i'm too ready to believe the best of my fellow-creatures, so i'm keeping an open mind.
to-day there was a little shake-up in the shop on account of vacations. i got a step up. ashley put me at the bench where jewels are removed from old settings on orders to be reset. this is exactly what we need to carry out our plans, and it comes sooner than he hoped—but not too soon for me. however, i do not mean to rush things, but will proceed with due caution.
my heart still yearns every time i pass a first-class restaurant. j.m.
