A LUMPER'S LAMENT.

Dominion, Volume 7, Issue 1928, 10 December 1913, Page 6

A LUMPER'S LAMENT.

A DIALOGUE AND ITS .SEQUEL.

Tho sun was shining brightly, a cool wind was rippling over tho harlynir turning to silver countless little spots on tho water. Everything was. calm and peaceful and on tho wharves a subdued murmur arose from' ever-increas-ing loading and unloading. Tho peaceful vista, howevpr, evidently, did not iiayo a soothing effect on two individuals leaning against a pilo of timber at tho rear of tho To Are Railway'Statipn. They were plainly strikers—men who eight weeks previously were contentedly trundling trolleys along the wharf, heaving the ebonv to the shin's bunker, or the like. Now, such honest toil lor them was forbidden. Already a stress of strike was making itself apparent, A boat through which a- stockinged foot was endeavouring to protrude itself, an empty pipo sucked at with relentless vigour, and other signs wero there. The appearance of tho two was one of hapless waiting. Tho individual who solaced himself with inhaling air through an empty pipo withdrew this small articlo of consolation, and spitting viciously, but nevertheless with unerring accuracy, between two piles of timber in front, spoke. "Look 'ere Bill," ho said, "I think we're just about knocked out. 'Ero wo are, not a blooinin' leg to stand on. Funds as good's busted, leaders tonguetied, others in quad, 'scabs' rollin' in !>v the 'undreds; those hlankey specials everlastingly keepin' us movin' our pins and what not. I'm sick of it. What's a man to do—can't go back to work, cant stand on tho footpath, can't speak what wo thinks, can't do nolhin', only stand moochiu' about seein' 'scabs' do us for our jobs. For two pins I'd go and 'scab' myself. It's all very well for Billy Young and 'is crew to spout about be-in' strong as over. We're not. D'ye know Bill I 'avn't. touched a drop o- beer since hst Saturday. Wc'ro only as they say bitin' our noses to spite our faces, and straight Bill I'm sick of it.

The orator paused in his flow of eloquence. From tho distaneo sounded the worry rattle of the winch and tho orator noted with pensive look tho swaying of the loaded sling, tho busv army of small figures scurrying in all directions. A set look canie over his expression, decision hardened his mouth and he turned suddenly to Bill.

"Bill, I'm goin' to join to-morrow; there's no disgrace we'vo been fooled!"

Bill looked alarmed. He thought a moment. He in turn gazed over the harbour. Surely his counsellor was right. They had been fooled miserably. A moment later he was gripping Bill's hand.

Two names, old watorsidcrs, were written in the book of the new union next day.