The Dramatic Works of Gerhart Hauptmann Volume I Part 58

"They're terrible put to it."--"The rain comes through their roof."--"The woman hasn't two shirts among the nine."

OLD BAUMERT

[_Taking the boy by the arm._] Now then, lad, what's wrong with you? Wake up, lad.

DREISSIGER

Some of you help me, and we'll get him up. It's disgraceful to send a sickly child this distance. Bring some water, Pfeifer.

WOMAN

[_Helping to lift the boy._] Sure you're not goin' to be foolish and die, lad!

DREISSIGER

Brandy, Pfeifer, brandy will be better.

BECKER

[_Forgotten by all, has stood looking on. With his hand on the door-latch, he now calls loudly and tauntingly._] Give him something to eat, an' he'll soon be all right.

[_Goes out._

DREISSIGER

That fellow will come to a bad end.--Take him under the arm, Neumann.

Easy now, easy; we'll get him into my room. What?

NEUMANN

He said something, Mr. Dreissiger. His lips are moving.

DREISSIGER

What--what is it, boy?

BOY

[_Whispers._] I'm h-hungry.

WOMAN

I think he says--

DREISSIGER

We'll find out. Don't stop. Let us get him into my room. He can lie on the sofa there, We'll hear what the doctor says.

_DREISSIGER, NEUMANN, and the woman lead the boy into the office. The weavers begin to behave like school-children when their master has left the cla.s.sroom. They stretch themselves, whisper, move from one foot to the other, and in the course of a few moments are conversing loudly._

OLD BAUMERT

I believe as how Becker was right.

CHORUS OF WEAVERS AND WOMEN

"He did say something like that."--"It's nothin' new here to fall down from hunger."--"G.o.d knows what's to come of 'em in winter if this cuttin'

down o' wages goes on."--"An' this year the potatoes aren't no good at all."--"Things'll get worse and worse till we're all done for together."

OLD BAUMERT

The best thing a man could do would be to put a rope round his neck and hang hisself on his own loom, like weaver Nentwich. [_To another old weaver._] Here, take a pinch. I was at Neurode yesterday. My brother-in-law, he works in the snuff factory there, and he give me a grain or two. Have you anything good in your kerchief?

OLD WEAVER

Only a little pearl barley. I was coming along behind Ulbrich the miller's cart, and there was a slit in one of the sacks. I can tell you we'll be glad of it.

OLD BAUMERT

There's twenty-two mills in Peterswaldau, but of all they grind, there's never nothin' comes our way.

OLD WEAVER

We must keep up heart. There's always somethin' comes to help us on again.

HEIBER

Yes, when we're hungry, we can pray to all the saints to help us, and if that don't fill our bellies we can put a pebble in our mouths and suck it. Eh, Baumert?

_Re-enter DREISSIGER, PFEIFER, AND NEUMANN._

DREISSIGER

It was nothing serious. The boy is all right again. [_Walks about excitedly, panting._] But all the same it's a disgrace. The child's so weak that a puff of wind would blow him over. How people, how any parents can be so thoughtless is what pa.s.ses my comprehension. Loading him with two heavy pieces of fustian to carry six good miles! No one would believe it that hadn't seen it. It simply means that I shall have to make a rule that no goods brought by children will be taken over. [_He walks up and down silently for a few moments._] I sincerely trust such a thing will not occur again.--Who gets all the blame for it? Why, of course the manufacturer. It's entirely our fault. If some poor little fellow sticks in the snow in winter and goes to sleep, a special correspondent arrives post-haste, and in two days we have a blood-curdling story served up in all the papers. Is any blame laid on the father, the parents, that send such a child?--Not a bit of it. How should they be to blame? It's all the manufacturer's fault--he's made the scapegoat. They flatter the weaver, and give the manufacturer nothing but abuse--he's a cruel man, with a heart like a stone, a dangerous fellow, at whose calves every cur of a journalist may take a bite. He lives on the fat of the land, and pays the poor weavers starvation wages. In the flow of his eloquence the writer forgets to mention that such a man has his cares too and his sleepless nights; that he runs risks of which the workman never dreams; that he is often driven distracted by all the calculations he has to make, and all the different things he has to take into account; that he has to struggle for his very life against compet.i.tion; and that no day pa.s.ses without some annoyance or some loss. And think of the manufacturer's responsibilities, think of the numbers that depend on him, that look to him for their daily bread. No, No! none of you need wish yourselves in my shoes--you would soon have enough of it. [_After a moment's reflection._]

You all saw how that fellow, that scoundrel Becker, behaved. Now he'll go and spread about all sorts of tales of my hard-heartedness, of how my weavers are turned off for a mere trifle, without a moment's notice. Is that true? Am I so very unmerciful?

CHORUS OF VOICES

No, sir.

DREISSIGER

It doesn't seem to me that I am. And yet these ne'er-do-wells come round singing low songs about us manufacturers--prating about hunger, with enough in their pockets to pay for quarts of bad brandy. If they would like to know what want is, let them go and ask the linen-weavers: they can tell something about it. But you here, you fustian-weavers, have every reason to thank G.o.d that things are no worse than they are. And I put it to all the old, industrious weavers present: Is a good workman able to gain a living in my employment, or is he not?

MANY VOICES

Yes, sir; he is, sir.

DREISSIGER