And the cow is the pits, and we're the men that
depend on the pits.
WILLIE. Who's the cat that's going to lick the cream?
JOB ARTHUR. My position is this--and I state it before masters and
men--that it's our business to strike such a balance between the
interests of the men and the interests of the masters that the pits
remain healthy, and everybody profits.
WILLIE. You're out for the millennium, I can see--with Mr. Job Arthur
Freer striking the balance. We all see you, Job Arthur, one foot on
either side of the fence, balancing the see-saw, with masters at one
end and men at the other. You'll have to give one side a lot of
pudding.--But go back a bit, to where we were before the motor car
took your breath away. When you said, Job Arthur, that you think of
others besides yourself, didn't you mean, as a matter of fact, the
office men? Didn't you mean that the colliers, led--we won't mention
noses--by you, were going to come out in sympathy with the office
clerks, supposing they didn't get the rise in wages which they've
asked for--the office clerks? Wasn't that it?
JOB ARTHUR. There's been some talk among the men of standing by the
office. I don't know what they'll do. But they'll do it of their
own decision, whatever it is.
WILLIE. There's not a shadow of doubt about it, Job Arthur. But it's
a funny thing the decisions all have the same foxy smell about them,
Job Arthur.
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