Chapter IV: Mr. Drummond in Harness

RUTHERFORD'S got its new manager before the month was out. Mr. John's state of health became alarming, and as he had to be hurried away, an arrangement was made for Mr. Drummond to come at once.

He had not been many days in the place before every workman had come to the conclusion that he was "a cute 'un," and that the person who wanted to "get round him" would have to be up very early in the morning.

Already, however, he had made a favourable impression. An accident happened the very day after his arrival, by which two men were rather seriously hurt, and his conduct on that occasion won the hearts of the lookers-on. He showed such anxiety to spare the injured men any needless pain, was so tender in word and deed, and, when he heard that one of them had an ailing wife, he took such precautions to prevent the bad news from reaching her suddenly.

Later in the day Mr. Drummond found time to visit the men at the Infirmary, and later still, to call at their homes and carry the cheering news that both were likely to do well.

"He's a good sort, that new manager," was the opinion expressed by the anxious wives, to whom his coming was as a ray of sunlight. "It isn't so many that would have called themselves. They would have thought it plenty to send word," said the one wife to her invalid neighbour, after Mr. Drummond's departure. "He feels for folks, because he evens himself to them. He said he once got hurt, and he knew what his missis went through, when she heard that he couldn't be brought home."

"He asked me if my man were in a club, and how we should get on while he was laid by. I said we should be all right there, and the two lads were working."

"He asked me too. And that was not what everybody would ha' done. Masters sometimes like to know as little as they can about the men's money matters. If they don't know that you have nothing coming in, though they can always have a pretty good guess, you see, they don't feel as anybody can blame them for not putting their hands in their pockets. I don't say it to find fault. Masters often have their minds full enough, and not too much in their pockets, after all's said and done. They would often help if they could, but they can't keep all the wives and families, when the men are doing naught. And they are often very ill plagued with the awkwardness of the men ¹ going off drinking just when they're busiest, and such-like work."

¹ "Very ill plagued." A common expression in Lancashire, denoting
domestic troubles through slack work or sickness.

The words were true enough. Rutherford's knew what it was to be fined for non-fulfilment of a contract, now and then, through the sheer perversity of the less steady amongst their workpeople. There would be bitter complaints if there were not work enough to keep all going, and then, very often, when all was in full swing, some of those who had grumbled most loudly were the first to shirk their employment and stroll off to the public-house, whence they could neither be coaxed nor driven.

When pay time came on Friday evening, they would come up with the rest and hang about, until the steady workmen had received their well-earned wages. Then they would lounge up to the pay desk and plead for an advance on work partially done, or yet to be commenced, and make many a promise of future steadiness.

Perhaps they were met by a stern refusal, and had to listen to a sharp lecture on the folly of their ways and the misery they entailed on others by their evil doing.

Meanwhile, half clad, worn-looking women would be waiting the result with what patience they might.

The knowledge of this fact and the thought of the children who would have to go hungry if no advance were made, generally secured it, though at Rutherford's the cashier often made it a condition that the wife should be called to receive the money. It made little difference in the long run, for, unless she were very strong minded indeed, she was sure to have to yield up enough to pay the public-house score before she could begin her calculations for spending the little balance left in her hands. The two women who were comparing notes about the new manager were happy in having steady husbands, and being spared such experiences.

"Did Mr. Drummond say anything else to you?" asked the invalid, with an eager look on her pale face.

"Aye. He hoped I had the 'Best of friends' to be with me and cheer me whilst I was troubled about George. I was bewildered like, and hardly knew what he meant then, but I seemed to see after."

"He didn't say many words to me, but he brought back some verses I learned at Sunday school. One forgets in course of time, but it's a good thing to have one's memory brushed up a bit."

Here the conversation ended.

The accident had been the means of bringing Adam Livesey under Mr. Drummond's special notice. But for it the striker's shyness would have induced him rather to keep out of sight; yet, when the alarm was given, Adam was the first to run to the scene of the mishap.

"Poor old Silentsides dropped his hammer sharp enough to-day," said another workman, in Mr. Drummond's hearing. "When there's work on, Adam is never in any hurry. I've noticed many a time that his hammer gives the last stroke that sounds in the smithy when going home time has come."

The words made Mr. Drummond curious to know which was Adam Livesey. He thought that a man of whom his fellows gave such a character might be worth a little looking after. But the manager was too wise to startle the men by making sudden changes. He wanted to get acquainted with them, not merely as items in the human machinery which kept Rutherford's going, but as fellow men, with souls to be saved, minds to be enlightened, bodies to be cared for, homes to be brightened, lives to be cheered and influenced for good.

How to set about it was the difficulty. Mr. Drummond had already been spoken of as fond of preaching, but in one sense he did not deserve it. He did not intrude upon the men during their dinner-hour, or when they were talking together in groups. He knew how jealous many were of anything like interference with their freedom of action and word. He did not wish them to think that he desired to be a spy upon them, so he was extremely careful to do nothing which should excite doubt or suspicion. But opportunities are never long wanting to those who seek them, and, as Mr. Drummond's words were always well timed, the sight of his frank face and the sound of his footfall were soon welcomed by all amongst whom he moved.

Some of the workmen joked Adam Livesey about the manager's "'ticing ways."

"He'll make a talker of thee, whether thou wilt or no," said one.

"There's no standing against Mr. Drummond," put in another.

So many things were said about the manager's power of "leading whoever he chose with his little finger," that for once in his life, Adam had a feeling of almost dislike towards the object of so much praise. Though he did not say as much, he made up his mind not to be talked to or driven into anything, by the cleverest manager that ever lived.

Adam was almost painfully conscious of Mr. Drummond's great abilities and intimate knowledge of the duties he had undertaken. He thought he had long ago subdued anything like envy of those who were better taught, and the hope of rising beyond his monotonous work. Mr. Drummond's position seemed to reproach Adam, for, as a boy, the manager had been no better off than himself. But he had conquered opposing circumstances, whilst Adam had yielded to them, and been beaten down at every point. It hurt the man to know this, and he took every opportunity of avoiding Mr. Drummond. He succeeded in doing this while at his work, but met the person he least wished to see when and where he least expected to find him.