Pelle the Conqueror, Martin Andersen Nexø [best fantasy books to read .TXT] 📗

face, so that the Union could not be attacked. “You’ve got plenty of time,” he said. “Go first of all to the trustworthy fellows, and make them understand what sort of a man Karl Meyer is; take his best people away first of all; it won’t do him much good to keep the bad ones. You can put the fear of God into your mates when you want to! Do your business so well that no one will have the courage any longer to take the place of those that leave him. He must be branded as what he is⁠—but between man and man.”

Pelle did not spare himself; he went from one comrade to another, fiery and energetic. And what had proved impossible three years before he was now able to accomplish; the resentment of Meyer’s injustice had sunk into the minds of all.

Meyer had been in the habit of letting his workers run about to no purpose; if the work was not quite ready for them they could call again. And when the work was given out to them they had, as a rule, to finish it with a rush; there was intention in this; it made the people humble and submissive.

But now the boot was on the other leg. The workers did not call; they did not deliver urgent commissions at the appointed time; Meyer had to send to them, and got his own words as answer; they were not quite ready yet, but they would see what they could do for him! He had to run after his own workers in order not to offend his rich customers. In the first instances he settled the matter, as a rule, by dismissal. But that did not help him at all; the devil of arrogance had entered into the simple journeymen! It looked as though they had got their ideas of master and subordinate reversed! He had to give up trusting to the hard hand on the rein; he must seek them out with fair words! His business had the whole fashionable world as customer, and always required a staff of the very best workers. But not even friendly approaches availed. Scarcely did he find a good journeyman-worker but he was off again, and if he asked the reason he always received the same jeering answer: they didn’t feel inclined to work. He offered high wages, and at great expense engaged qualified men from outside; but Pelle was at once informed and immediately sought them out. When they had been subjected to his influence only for a few days they went back to the place they came from, or found other masters, who, now that Meyer’s business was failing, were getting more orders. People who went to the warehouse said that Meyer was raging about upstairs, abusing innocent people and driving them away from him.

Meyer was conscious of a hand behind all this, and he demanded that the Employers’ Union should declare a lockout. But the other masters scented a move for his benefit in this.

His own business was moribund, so he wanted to bring theirs to a standstill also. They had no fundamental objection to the new state of affairs; in any case they could see no real occasion for a lockout.

So he was forced to give in, and wrote to Pelle requesting him to enter into negotiations⁠—in order to put an end to the unrest affecting the craft. Pelle, who as yet possessed no skill in negotiations, answered Meyer in a very casual manner, practically sending him about his business. He showed his reply to his father-in-law before dispatching it.

“No, deuce take it, that won’t do!” said Stolpe. “Look you, my lad, everything depends on the tone you take, if you are dealing with labor politics! These big folks think such a damn lot about the way a thing is wrapped up! If I were setting about this business I’d come out with the truth and chuck it in their faces⁠—but that won’t answer; they’d be so wild there’d be no dealing with them. Just a nice little lie⁠—that answers much better! Yes, yes, one has to be a diplomatist and set a fox to catch a fox. Now you write what I tell you! I’ll give you an example. Now⁠—”

Stolpe paced up and down the room a while, with a thoughtful expression; he was in shirtsleeves and slippers and had thrust both his forefingers in his waistcoat pockets. “Are you ready, son-in-law? Then we’ll begin!”

“To the President of the Employers’ Union, Herre H. Meyer, Shoemaker to the Court.

“Being in receipt of your honored favor of yesterday’s date hereby acknowledged, I take the liberty of remarking that so far as is known to me complete quiet and the most orderly conditions prevail throughout the trade. There appears therefore to be no motive for negotiation.

“For the Shoemakers’ Union,

“Your obedient servant,

“Pelle.”

“There, that’s to the point, eh? Napoleon himself might have put his name to that! And there’s enough sting to it, too!” said Stolpe, much gratified. “Now write that out nicely, and then get a big envelope.”

Pelle felt quite important when he had written this out on a big sheet of paper; it was like an order of the day issued by a sheriff or burgomaster at home. Only in respect of its maliciousness he entertained a certain doubt.

One morning, a few days later, he was sitting at home working. In the meantime he had been obliged to undertake casual jobs for sailors in the harbor, and now he was soling a pair of sea-boots for a seaman on board a collier. On the other side of the bench sat little Lasse, chattering and aping his movements, and every time Pelle drove a peg home the youngster knocked his rattle against the edge of the table, and Pelle smiled at him. Ellen was running in and out between the living-room and the kitchen. She was serious and silent.

There was a knock at