right, but I know it isn’t right for poor folks to starve. Them that governs mun find a way to help us: they mun mak’ fresh orderations. Ye’ll say that’s hard to do:—so mich louder mun we shout out then, for so much slacker will t’ Parliament-men be to set on to a tough job.”
“Worry the Parliament-men as much as you please,” said Moore; “but to worry the mill-owners is absurd; and I, for one, won’t stand it.”
“Ye’re a raight hard ’un!” returned the workman. “Will n’t ye gie us a bit o’ time?—Will n't ye consent to mak’ your changes rather more slowly?”
“Am I the whole body of clothiers in Yorkshire? Answer me that!”
“Ye’re yourseln.”
“And only myself; and if I stopped by the way an instant, while others are rushing on, I should be trodden down. If I did as you wish me to do, I should be bankrupt in a month: and would my bankruptcy put bread into your hungry children’s mouths? William Farren, neither to your dictation, nor to that of any other, will I submit. Talk to me no more about machinery; I will have my own way. I shall get new frames in to-morrow:—If you broke these, I would still get more. I’ll never give in.”
Here the mill-bell rang twelve o’clock: it was the dinner hour. Moore abruptly turned from the deputation and re-entered his counting-house.
