The Gibson Upright Part 5

GIBSON: Go call your meeting and find out what raise you're going to strike for.

RILEY: Yes, sir; I'll do it. [_He goes out quickly._]

NORA: [_amazed and rather gentle_]: Are you going to give them what they want?

GIBSON: No; I only wanted to get rid of him a minute to think--or try to.

NORA [_in a low voice, offended_]: Oh, excuse me! [_She is going out._]

GIBSON: Stay here! [_He seems to approach a decision--one of desperation and anger. Then he speaks crisply, but more to himself than to_ NORA.]

All right--they get it! [_Looks up at_ NORA, _gives her a frowning stare of some duration._] Tell Riley to call off his meeting, please. I want all those spokesmen for the departments here. I'll give them their answer now.

[NORA _looks at him, puzzled, bites her lip, and goes out quickly into the factory._ GIBSON'S _expression is determined; so is his action. He goes to the wall, brings two chairs, one in each hand, places them at the large table. Repeats this until he has chairs placed at the table on both sides and at the head as if for a directors' meeting. The door opens and_ SALVATORE, MIFFLIN, CARTER, RILEY, s...o...b..RG, FRANKEL, _and_ SIMPSON _enter. They come in, speaking together; most of them talking somewhat ominously._]

CROWD: Well, he better!... We ain't workin' for our health.... My whole department'll walk out!... You bet your life we're goin' to!... He needn't kid himself about our not meaning business!

FRANKEL: Well, Mr. Gibson, we'd like to know what conclusion you come to.

GIBSON: I'm going to tell you. Simpson, please ask Miss Gorodna to step in.

[SIMPSON _merely looks out of the door, and_ NORA _comes in quickly._]

Carter, take that chair at the head of the table. Frankel, Salvatore, s...o...b..rg, sit there, and there, and there! Riley, sit there. Simpson, there! Miss Gorodna, will you please sit here? [_They take the seats he indicates, but they look puzzled, somewhat perturbed; whisper and murmur to one another._] Thank you! There! That looks like a directors' tables doesn't it?

SALVATORE: What's this all about?

GIBSON: I want to ask you people if any of you ever knew me to break my word to you?

FRANKEL: Oh, no, Mr. Gibson, we know you never break your agreements!

GIBSON: I want to ask you people: Haven't you found my word as good as my bond?

CARTER: Why, yes, Mr. Gibson.

SIMPSON: Sure! We know you'll do what you say.

GIBSON: Do you all agree to that?

SALVATORE: Soit'nly! You're a gentleman.

RILEY: Sure, we agree to it!

s...o...b..RG: Oh, well, prob'ly so.

GIBSON: All right! I'm going to do something you don't expect, and I want you to know I mean it. But before I do it I want to tell you something. Probably you won't understand it, but for a long time I had a pride in this factory. Building up The Gibson Upright was really the pride of my life. To do that I knew I had to have a loyal staff of workmen, and for that reason if no other I have given you shorter hours and more pay than the men get in any other factory of this kind that I know of. I've done everything that can be done to make the shops healthy and light and clean. I certainly haven't been unfriendly to you personally. Any man in the factory was free to come in that door to talk to me any time he wanted to. I've done my best and we've been called the model factory. I've done my best but--it isn't enough. It never has been enough. And I've been told it never will be enough [_with a glance at_ NORA] until the wage system has been abolished--until capital has been abolished and the parasite destroyed! I say I took a pride in the factory for years! Now I am no longer able to. I can't take a pride in a squabble, and that's all this factory has come to be. And I'll tell you frankly--you men feel you'd like to get rid of me; well, I want to get rid of you. And I intend to!

s...o...b..RG [_fiercely_]: You goin' to close this factory down?

GIBSON: No; I'm going to give it to you!

SEVERAL WORKMEN: What!

GIBSON [_emphatically_]: I'm going to give it to you! I turn it over to you, here and now. This property is mine, but the use of it is yours.

Don't you understand? You've said yourselves my word is as good as my bond. Well, the factory is yours. I'm going to get away from it. You take it and run it.

[_He gets his hat and coat._]

SIMPSON: What in thunder does he mean?

SALVATORE: Say, what's the game?

GIBSON: There it is! Take it and run it yourselves, for yourselves. It belongs to every workman in the factory on equal shares. [_Throws keys on table._] There are the keys of the safe, and the combination's in the top drawer of that desk. It's all yours as it stands, down to the very correspondence on that table, without any let, hindrance, or interference from me.

FRANKEL [_hoa.r.s.ely_]: Say! He means it!

SALVATORE: All the money ours?

GIBSON: The money for every piano you make and sell is yours--every cent of it.

MIFFLIN [_rising transfigured_]: Gentlemen, a glorious time has come!

This is an example to every employer of labour in our land. I thank that power which destined all men to be equal both in service and reward that I should have chanced to be present to see such a splendid band of forward-looking fellows--of brothers, of comrades--come into their own!

Let us hope that this great moment but marks the beginning of an epoch when every capitalist and manufacturer shall see the light as Mr. Gibson has just done.

As spokesman for these--these men, Mr. Gibson, I would congratulate you for antic.i.p.ating the inevitable and certain world future! You have done well for yourself to perceive it. I am sure on that account you leave here with their respect. And to you I should think it might be some relief--

GIBSON: Relief? I should think it might! And you can translate that into your nineteen languages and dialects--including the Scandinavian! As for you men--you wouldn't work for me--now see if you can work for yourselves! Good-bye, Miss Gorodna!

[NORA, _who has been looking at him tensely, inclines her head slightly. He opens the door that leads to the street and goes out decisively. There are exclamations from everyone, loud but awed. "Say, look here, look here, look here!"

"Give it to us!" "Equal shares! Did you hear what he said?"

"Gosh! Is this the end of the world?" "My wife won't believe it!"_]

MIFFLIN: Gentlemen, this factory comes into the possession of every workman in it on equal terms; each has a like share in the profits. At last the workman owns his tools.

FRANKEL [_suddenly, as if light had just come_]: Gibson's crazy!

MIFFLIN: No, no! He saw the writing on the wall!

NORA [_as if entranced, her eyes to heaven_]: Isn't it wonderful--wonderful!

MIFFLIN [_beaming_]: But we mustn't forget that it entails responsibilities.

NORA: We mustn't forget that.

[_The telephone bell rings. They all turn their heads in silence and look at it_, MIFFLIN _watching them, benevolently chuckling. The bell rings again._]

CARTER [_blankly_]: The telephone is ringin'.

MIFFLIN: Well, answer it, answer it!