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DIVERSIONS OF A WORKINGMAN

who hoped humbly that, if he might succeed to Colonel Halket's place in the community, he should not sink much below the stature of that splendid figure. Indeed, he aspired to this eminence not without reason, for he was public-spirited, a director in various boards of which Colonel Halket was president, a liberal contributor to all worthy charities, a man interested in good works, and a willing disciple of the Colonel's in the art of oratory. He was sure that he would receive Colonel Halket's indorsement,—so far, that is, as Colonel Halket might have the privilege of indicating a successor. There was no other man in Avalon for whom Mr. Dunbar had so ardent an admiration; and Colonel Halket for his part was humanly susceptible to loyalty of this kind.

Mr. Dunbar had a friendly interest in Floyd's life at New Rome.

"It's a splendid education for a young fellow, if he has the grit to stay at it; and it will give you a sympathy and understanding of the workmen's point of view. Sympathy and understanding,—it's because they lack it that so many managements of good business go to pieces. Why, take my own case,"—he sat closer to the table, folding his short arms upon it confidentially and puffing hard upon his cigar as if to supply himself for a protracted conversational entr'acte—"it's just because my superintendent lacked those qualities that I'm here. He's a first-class man, but arbitrary beyond what's reasonable—got the drillmaster's point of view ingrained in him—and the drillmaster's good for small squads, but he loses himself when he tries to swing anything big.—Not, you understand, that our works are big as yours are—it's the difference between making small castings and steel construction beams; ours is small potatoes, comparatively,—but we have three hundred men on the pay-roll. Well, lately, this new thing, the Affiliated Iron Workers, has been getting after our men—we've always run non-union—and our superintendent sticks up signs all over