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Page 17 text:
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MIND AND HAND. 11 A MEDAL OF HONOR. FOR five weeks the men at the Stanford factory had been idle. They had struck for higher wages and had sworn among themselves not to go back to work until their demands had been granted. For five weeks Mr. Stanford had refused the raise, and as he was a very obstinate man it would probably be a long time be- fore he would comply with their demands. He owned that factory, he said, and he would pay the wages he thought necessary, and if the employes were dissatisfied they were at liberty to go elsewhere, as there were plenty of men who would gladly work for a dollar a day. Day after day the men gathered about the factory door expecting to see a notice to resume work, and day after day they had been disappointed and returned to their families empty-handed. Mr. Stanford was too proud to be dictated to by a set of ignorant laborers. By this time most of the men would gladly have given up and gone back under the old pay, but they were restrained from doing so by the fiery speeches and denun- ciations of one of their number, Sam Maguire. It was Friday night, and a cold, piercing wind blew over the little town of starving laborers. The streets were all deserted save for one solitary pedestrian, who was plodding along with his head down. He hurried on until he reached the home of Mr. Stanford. He was admitted, and a light was seen in the study. The light burned steadily until after midnight ; then the mysterious figure came out into the darkness and hurried down the street. The next day the men were seen crowd- ing about the factory door reading the fol- lowing notice : Mr. Stanford has learned the truth of the case in an interview with a certain gentleman, and has decided to withdraw his objections to the requests of his employes. The employes will resume work on the following Monday at the wages desired. In an instant all their auger and despair was turned to joy, and with shouts and laughter they rushed to Mr. Stanford ' s home and stood half the day cheering their employer. Many inquiries were made for the gen- tleman who had braved Mr. Stanford ' s auger for their sake, but they were all in vain. At the end of the first week each man contributed a small sum and a silver medal was given to Mr. Stanford with the instructions that the mysterious gentleman should wear it as a token of their grati- tude. The medal bore the words : To a Gentleman. From His Friends. Two years had elapsed since the strike. It was the noon hour, and the men were sitting in a circle telling stories and joking. Here comes Larry, said one. Let ' s get him to tell us a story. I bet he ' ll tell about the time he saw Queen Victoria crowned, growled another. I know I ' ve heard that story fifty times if I ' ve heard it once. Let ' s see if he does. A little old man tottered up and took his seat in the circle of men. Telling stories, gentlemen? Don ' t let me disturb you. We ' ve all run out of lies, Larry. You tell us some of yours, said one young fellow. I never tell lies, my young man, Larry answered gravely ; but I will tell you — let me see — suppose I tell you about the coronation of the Queen? The men exchanged quick glances and could hardly suppress their mirth.
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Page 16 text:
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in MIND AND HAND. and just as it took a turn around a bend in the river, and where the water was the deep- est, he heard some one crying as if in great distress. He discovered a young girl, wring- ing her hands and moaning in the most de- plorable manner. He asked the reason of her grief and learned, between her sobs, that her darling ' had fallen into the river. Upon looking down the river, about four or five yards from the shore, he saw a little child. Its hands were raised above the water, while its little head bobbed up and down with every curve of the waves. He sprang from his horse, leaped into the water, and soon reached the little one. Carefully hold- ing it above the water he made for the shore, and gently placed it in the arms of its distressed nurse. Tears were flowing down my brother ' s cheeks when he turned to take a last look at the dead child and the grief-stricken nurse. Just as he was bowing his departure his eyes fell full upon the face of the child, and judge of his sur- prise when he noticed that it was a doll with a china head. He turned for his horse and just caught a glimpse of him as he darted into the wood. He can not bear the sight of a doll since, and often declares, if ever he meets that girl he will politely inform her of the trouble that the rescuing of her darling ' cost him. Florence Bowlus, 9 A Grade. WOODWORKING SHOP.
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