He was certainly respectable enough, prosy
and solemn. But he was deeply moved on this question of clubbing
strikers' heads; and you could see that the crowd was only waiting
for a chance to shout its indignation. The chairman introduced the
president of the Restaurant Workers, a solid citizen whom you would
have taken for a successful grocer. He told about what had happened
last night at Prince's; and then he told about the causes of the
strike, and the things that go on behind the scenes in big
restaurants. I had been to Prince's many times in my life, but I had
never been behind the scenes, nor had I ever before been to a
labor-meeting. I must admit that I was startled. The things they put
into the hashes! And the distressing habit of unorganized waiters,
when robbed of their tips or otherwise ill-treated, to take it out
by spitting into the soup!
A couple of other labor men spoke, and then came James, the
carpenter with a religious streak. He had a harsh, rasping voice,
and a way of poking a long bony finger at the people he was
impressing.
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