That's what you might give to a beggar; it's not pay.

PFEIFER

Every one who has been attended to must clear out. We haven't room to turn round in.

BECKER

[_To those standing near, without lowering his voice._] It's a beggarly pittance, nothing else. A man works his treadle from early morning till late at night, an' when he's bent over his loom for days an' days, tired to death every evening, sick with the dust and the heat, he finds he's made a beggarly one and threepence!

PFEIFER

No impudence allowed here.

BECKER

If you think I'll hold my tongue for your tellin', you're much mistaken.

PFEIFER

[_Exclaims._] We'll see about that! [_Rushes to the gla.s.s door and calls into the office._] Mr. Dreissiger, Mr. Dreissiger, will you be good enough to come here?

_Enter DREISSIGER. About forty, full-bodied, asthmatic. Looks severe._

DREISSIGER

What is it, Pfeifer?

PFEIFER

[_Spitefully._] Becker says he won't be told to hold his tongue.

DREISSIGER

[_Draws himself up, throws back his head, stares at BECKER; his nostrils tremble._] Oh, indeed!--Becker. [_To PFEIFER.] Is he the man?...

[_The clerks nod._

BECKER

[_Insolently._] Yes, Mr. Dreissiger, yes! [_Pointing to himself._] This is the man. [_Pointing to DREISSIGER._] And that's a man too!

DREISSIGER

[_Angrily._] Fellow, how dare you?

PFEIFER

He's too well off. He'll go dancing on the ice once too often, though.

BECKER

[_Recklessly._] You shut up, you Jack-in-the-box. Your mother must have gone dancing once too often with Satan to have got such a devil for a son.

DREISSIGER

[_Now in a violent pa.s.sion, roars._] Hold your tongue this moment, sir, or ...

[_He trembles and takes a fere steps forward._

BECKER

[_Holding his ground steadily._] I'm not deaf. My hearing's quite good yet.

DREISSIGER

[_Controls himself, asks in an apparently cool business tone._] Was this fellow not one of the pack...?

PFEIFER

He's a Bielau weaver. When there's any mischief going, they're sure to be in it.

DREISSIGER

[_Trembling._] Well, I give you all warning: if the same thing happens again as last night--a troop of half-drunken cubs marching past my windows singing that low song ...

BECKER

Is it "b.l.o.o.d.y Justice" you mean?

DREISSIGER

You know well enough what I mean. I tell you that if I hear it again I'll get hold of one of you, and--mind, I'm not joking--before the justice he shall go. And if I can find out who it was that made up that vile doggerel ...

BECKER

It's a grand song, that's what it is!

DREISSIGER

Another word and I send for the police on the spot, without more ado.

I'll make short work with you young fellows. I've got the better of very different men before now.

BECKER

I believe you there. A real thoroughbred manufacturer will get the better of two or three hundred weavers in the time it takes you to turn round--swallow 'em up, and not leave as much as a bone. He's got four stomachs like a cow, and teeth like a wolf. That's nothing to him at all!

DREISSIGER

[_To his clerks._] That man gets no more work from us.