MR. DRUMMOND IN HARNESS.
RUTHERFORD'S got its new manager before the month was out. Mr. John's
state of health became alarming, and as he had to be hurried away, an
arrangement was made for Mr. Drummond to come at once.
He had not been many days in the place before every workman had come to
the conclusion that he was "a cute 'un," and that the person who wanted
to "get round him" would have to be up very early in the morning.
Already, however, he had made a favourable impression. An accident
happened the very day after his arrival, by which two men were rather
seriously hurt, and his conduct on that occasion won the hearts of
the lookers-on. He showed such anxiety to spare the injured men any
needless pain, was so tender in word and deed, and, when he heard that
one of them had an ailing wife, he took such precautions to prevent the
bad news from reaching her suddenly.
Later in the day Mr. Drummond found time to visit the men at the
Infirmary, and later still, to call at their homes and carry the
cheering news that both were likely to do well.
"He's a good sort, that new manager," was the opinion expressed by the
anxious wives, to whom his coming was as a ray of sunlight. "It isn't
so many that would have called themselves. They would have thought it
plenty to send word," said the one wife to her invalid neighbour, after
Mr. Drummond's departure. "He feels for folks, because he evens himself
to them. He said he once got hurt, and he knew what his missis went
through, when she heard that he couldn't be brought home."
"He asked me if my man were in a club, and how we should get on while
he was laid by. I said we should be all right there, and the two lads
were working."
"He asked me too. And that was not what everybody would ha' done.
Masters sometimes like to know as little as they can about the men's
money matters. If they don't know that you have nothing coming in,
though they can always have a pretty good guess, you see, they don't
feel as anybody can blame them for not putting their hands in their
pockets. I don't say it to find fault. Masters often have their minds
full enough, and not too much in their pockets, after all's said and
done. They would often help if they could, but they can't keep all the
wives and families, when the men are doing naught. And they are often
very ill plagued with the awkwardness of the men ¹ going off drinking
just when they're busiest, and such-like work."
¹ "Very ill plagued." A common expression in Lancashire, denoting
domestic troubles through slack work or sickness.
The words were true enough. Rutherford's knew what it was to be fined
for non-fulfilment of a contract, now and then, through the sheer
perversity of the less steady amongst their workpeople. There would
be bitter complaints if there were not work enough to keep all going,
and then, very often, when all was in full swing, some of those who
had grumbled most loudly were the first to shirk their employment and
stroll off to the public-house, whence they could neither be coaxed nor
driven.
When pay time came on Friday evening, they would come up with the rest
and hang about, until the steady workmen had received their well-earned
wages. Then they would lounge up to the pay desk and plead for an
advance on work partially done, or yet to be commenced, and make many a
promise of future steadiness.
Perhaps they were met by a stern refusal, and had to listen to a sharp
lecture on the folly of their ways and the misery they entailed on
others by their evil doing.
Meanwhile, half clad, worn-looking women would be waiting the result
with what patience they might.
The knowledge of this fact and the thought of the children who would
have to go hungry if no advance were made, generally secured it, though
at Rutherford's the cashier often made it a condition that the wife
should be called to receive the money. It made little difference in the
long run, for, unless she were very strong minded indeed, she was sure
to have to yield up enough to pay the public-house score before she
could begin her calculations for spending the little balance left in
her hands. The two women who were comparing notes about the new manager
were happy in having steady husbands, and being spared such experiences.
"Did Mr. Drummond say anything else to you?" asked the invalid, with an
eager look on her pale face.
"Aye. He hoped I had the 'Best of friends' to be with me and cheer me
whilst I was troubled about George. I was bewildered like, and hardly
knew what he meant then, but I seemed to see after."
"He didn't say many words to me, but he brought back some verses I
learned at Sunday school. One forgets in course of time, but it's a
good thing to have one's memory brushed up a bit."
Here the conversation ended.
The accident had been the means of bringing Adam Livesey under Mr.
Drummond's special notice. But for it the striker's shyness would have
induced him rather to keep out of sight; yet, when the alarm was given,
Adam was the first to run to the scene of the mishap.
"Poor old Silentsides dropped his hammer sharp enough to-day," said
another workman, in Mr. Drummond's hearing. "When there's work on, Adam
is never in any hurry. I've noticed many a time that his hammer gives
the last stroke that sounds in the smithy when going home time has
come."
The words made Mr. Drummond curious to know which was Adam Livesey.
He thought that a man of whom his fellows gave such a character might
be worth a little looking after. But the manager was too wise to
startle the men by making sudden changes. He wanted to get acquainted
with them, not merely as items in the human machinery which kept
Rutherford's going, but as fellow men, with souls to be saved, minds to
be enlightened, bodies to be cared for, homes to be brightened, lives
to be cheered and influenced for good.
How to set about it was the difficulty. Mr. Drummond had already been
spoken of as fond of preaching, but in one sense he did not deserve
it. He did not intrude upon the men during their dinner-hour, or when
they were talking together in groups. He knew how jealous many were of
anything like interference with their freedom of action and word. He
did not wish them to think that he desired to be a spy upon them, so
he was extremely careful to do nothing which should excite doubt or
suspicion. But opportunities are never long wanting to those who seek
them, and, as Mr. Drummond's words were always well timed, the sight of
his frank face and the sound of his footfall were soon welcomed by all
amongst whom he moved.
Some of the workmen joked Adam Livesey about the manager's "'ticing
ways."
"He'll make a talker of thee, whether thou wilt or no," said one.
"There's no standing against Mr. Drummond," put in another.
So many things were said about the manager's power of "leading whoever
he chose with his little finger," that for once in his life, Adam had a
feeling of almost dislike towards the object of so much praise. Though
he did not say as much, he made up his mind not to be talked to or
driven into anything, by the cleverest manager that ever lived.
Adam was almost painfully conscious of Mr. Drummond's great abilities
and intimate knowledge of the duties he had undertaken. He thought
he had long ago subdued anything like envy of those who were better
taught, and the hope of rising beyond his monotonous work. Mr.
Drummond's position seemed to reproach Adam, for, as a boy, the manager
had been no better off than himself. But he had conquered opposing
circumstances, whilst Adam had yielded to them, and been beaten down
at every point. It hurt the man to know this, and he took every
opportunity of avoiding Mr. Drummond. He succeeded in doing this while
at his work, but met the person he least wished to see when and where
he least expected to find him.