The Iron Puddler: My Life in the Rolling Mills and What Came of It

es several chapters before the fighting begins is like the man who sells peanuts in which a lot of the shells ha

r would serve better as my last one. Babe was older than I, and had pestered me from the time I was ten. Now I was eighteen and a man. I was a master puddler in the mill and a musician in the town band (I always went with men older than myself). Two stove molders from a neighboring factory were visiting me that day,

eer," Babe commanded. "He's

" I said. "I was going

to get a beer like them fellers. You think you're a man, but I know

as if to ask: "Are you going to take that?" And so the fight was arranged, although I had no skill at boxin

er the line

e ground. Babe had never been whipped; he always chose younger opponents. He was a good gouger, and had marked up most of the boys on the "flats" as we called the lowlands where the poorer

"down." Father had gone to Pittsburgh to look for work. I was scouring the town of Sharon to pick up any odd job that would earn me a nickel. There were no telephones and I used to carry notes between sweethearts, pass show bills for the "opry," and ring a hand-bell for auctions. An organized charity

and the landlord gives us the use of the rooms free. This is

it was the prettiest suit I had ever seen. I asked Miss Foraker how much money it would take to buy the suit. She sa

the stifling heat under the low roof I changed my clothes. Then I proudly climbed down to

about Mis

work fo

hing is fre

eyes, and changed into my old rags again. Then mother took the blue suit, wrapped

"But these clothes are not for people lik

on my best pants were three deep and if laid side by side would have covered more territory than

l. Late in the afternoon the auctioneer held up a brown overcoat. "Here is a fine piece of goods, only sligh

nts for my day's work, so I bid

, "for ten cents to the kid

t of ingenuity to make the pieces come out right. The trousers were neither long nor short. They dwindled down and stopped at my calves, half-way above my ankles. What I hated most was that the seams were not in the right places. It was a p

Sunday-school, I met Babe

boy, lit

other know

reeches put

ams all in

y soul. Even to this day when I awake from some bad dream, it is a dream that I am wearing crazy breeches a

tdo himself. But Babe Durgon and I didn't go into these matters as we trudged along through

th. The impact almost knocked me over, but my teeth had closed on his thumb and when he jerked back he put me on my balance again. I clouted him on the jaw and knocked him down. He landed in the lime box. The school had not yet been plastered, and the quicklime was in an open pit. I started in after the bully, but stopped to save my pants from the lime. There was a ho

was when you made fun of my breeches, seven years ago. And do you remember that blue suit you had on at the time? I know where you got that blue suit of clothes, and I know who had it before you

et licked in the same way. They outrage some one's self