If
that can be done doon there, it can be done here; for there's naebody
has ony mair need o' a eight hours day than miners."
"Oh, I'll turn oot a' richt at the meetin'," said Tam, who was always
credited with seeing farther than most of his workmates, "an' I'll join
the union, too, if it's formed; but ye'll see if ye live lang enough
that the union'll no' be a' ye think it. The ither side will organize to
bate ye every time." And with this encouraging prophecy, Geordie went on
to the next house.
"No, I'm no' comin' to nae meetin'. I want naethin' to dae wi' yer
unions. I can get on weel enough without them," curtly said Dan Sellars,
the inmate. He was what Geordie somewhat expressively called a
"belly-crawler," a talebearer, and one who drank and gambled along with
Walker, Fleming, Robertson and a few others.
"Man, it'll no' do muckle guid," said another, "ye mind hoo' big Geordie
Ritchie ran awa' wi' the money o' the last union we started? It'll gi'e
a wheen bigmouths a guid job and an easy time. That's a' it will do."
"Oh, ay," answered Sinclair, "but that's no' to say that the union'll
ay fail. Folks are no' a' Geordie Ritchies, an' they're no' a' bigmouths
either.
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