The Gibson Upright Part 2

CARTER: Well, I was kind o' foggy about the overtime.

GIBSON: The agreement was that you were to have time and a half for overtime. What was foggy about that?

CARTER: Well, I don't say you didn't give us what we was askin' right _then_; but things have changed since then.

GIBSON: What's changed in eleven days?

FRANKEL [_hotly_]: What's changed? How about them men in the finishin'

department that do piecework?

GIBSON: Well, what's changed about them?

FRANKEL: Well, something _is_ goin' to change over there.

GIBSON: We're talking about your department not understanding the agreement. What's the finishing department got to do with that?

FRANKEL: Well, they're kickin', too, you bet!

GIBSON: I'm dealing with your kick now.

CARTER: Well, o' course we got to stand with them; if they do piecework overtime they don't get no more for it.

GIBSON: I'll deal with them separately.

FRANKEL: My goodness, Mr. Gibson, you got to deal with us, too! Not a one of us understood what our last agreement with you was. It's just agreements and agreements and agreements--you might think we was living just on agreements! By rights we ought to have double time instead of time and a half!

GIBSON: Time and a half eleven days ago; now you strike for double time!

Where does this thing stop? You want double time for overtime; your working day has been reduced; it won't be long till you want that cut down again.

FRANKEL: Sure! We want it cut down right now!

CARTER: Yes, Mr. Gibson; that was another point they told us to bring up before we walk out.

GIBSON [_with growing exasperation_]: I suppose you want a six-hour day so you'll have more overtime to double on me! Then you'll want a four-hour day, won't you?

MIFFLIN [_beaming and nodding_]: Well, why not, Mr. Gibson?

GIBSON: What?

NORA: Why shouldn't they?

GIBSON: Why shouldn't they? But what's their limit?

NORA [_oratorically_]: When the workman shall own his tools!

MIFFLIN: Of course that means _all_ the tools, Mr. Gibson. You may not know our phrase: "The workman shall own his tools." It means not only the carpenter's bench, the plane and the saw, the adze and the auger, but the shop itself. It means that the workmen shall own the factory. It means the elimination of everything and everyone who stands between him and the purchaser, to take toll and unearned profit from the worker, who is really the sole producer of wealth.

NORA: It means the elimination of capital and the capitalist!

MIFFLIN: It means that not only should the worker own tools and factory but should sit here in the persons of his chosen and elected fellow workers, as arbiter of his own destiny.

GIBSON: That is to say, it means the elimination of me.

MIFFLIN [_jovially_]: Precisely! Precisely!

GIBSON [_as another workingman strides into the room_]: What do you want, s...o...b..rg?

s...o...b..RG: Them new windows in the a.s.sembling room--they're no good.

GIBSON: We've just spent twelve hundred dollars fixing them as you said you wanted them. What's the matter with them?

s...o...b..RG: They don't give no light.

MIFFLIN: None at all?

s...o...b..RG: It's right next to none at all! The men are goin' to lay off if they got to work in that room. They're goin' out anyway at twelve o'clock.

FRANKEL: Now look here, Mr. Gibson, if I was running this factory--

GIBSON: You're not, Frankel!

s...o...b..RG: Well, why can't you listen to him? Don't we even get no hearing? I guess if I was running this factory once, the first thing I'd do I'd anyhow try to listen what the troubles is and make my men contented.

GIBSON: What would you do if you were running the factory, Carter? You haven't said.

CARTER: I ain't had the chance to say. Now what I'd do, first I'd settle all the grievances so there wouldn't be no more complaints.

GIBSON: Well, here's one coming I might leave to you on that basis.

[_Enter_ SIMPSON, _an elderly worker in overalls and jumper; and_ SALVATORE, _a New Yorkized Italian type, a formerly lighted cigarette dangling from his lips._]

SALVATORE: Our department's goin' to walk out at twelve, noon, Mr.

Gibson. We ain't satisfied.

GIBSON: Why not?

SALVATORE: Well, we ain't satisfied, Mr. Gibson; we ain't satisfied at all.

GIBSON: You got every demand answered yesterday, Salvatore.

SALVATORE: Oh, I ain't talkin' about no demands. If all them other departments walks out we're going to stand by 'em! We got plenty to do with our time. Workin' all the time ain't so enjoyable.

GIBSON: So you people are going out again, are you?

SIMPSON: I guess it's a general strike, Mr. Gibson. I'm afraid if you don't give the boys satisfactory answers the place will close down at noon.

GIBSON: Have satisfactory answers ever satisfied you?