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Pullman palace cars。 Here was the whole bunch of them in seven 〃specials〃 rolling right by his front door。 He cursed them again and prayed that the train might be wrecked and that every one of the blinkety blinkety scoundrels might be killed。 If all these idle plutocrats could be destroyed in a heap they would be lifted from the backs of the masses； and the masses would not have to work any more。
Bannerman was a fool； and I could even then see just what made him foolish。 He was full of the brimstone of envy。 The sight of those well…dressed travelers eating in the dining cars drove him wild。 He wanted to be in their places； but he was too lazy to work and earn the money that would put him there。 I knew that they were not rich men； they were school…teachers； doctors； butchers and bakers； machinists and puddlers。 They had saved their money for a year in order to have the price of this convention trip to Denver。 Comrade Bannerman was pig…iron； and envy made him brittle。 He should have been melted down and had the sulphur boiled out of him。 Then he would have been wrought iron； as were the men he was so envious of。
He was not envious of me； of course； because he thought I was a tramp。 Indeed he thought I was as envious as he； and so he classed the two of us as 〃intellectuals。〃 From this I learned that 〃Intellectuals〃 is a name that weak men； crazed with envy； give to themselves。 They believe the successful men lack intellect； are all luck。 This thought soothes their envy and keeps it from driving them mad。
I thanked Comrade Bannerman for his pamphlets and threw him a few coins to pay for the melons he had given me。 But my peep into his soul had taught me more than his propaganda could teach me。 Later I read all the pamphlets because I had promised I would。 They told of the labor movement and the theories at work in Germany。 One of them was called Merrie England and declared that England had once been merry； but capitalism had crushed all joy and turned the island into a living hell。 I remembered my mother in Wales rocking her baby's cradle and singing all day long with a voice vibrant with joy。 If capitalism had crushed her heart she hadn't heard about it。
When the lodge excursion train had passed on toward the convention city； I hopped a freight and bade Comrade Bannerman goodby。 Had I told him that from my earnings I had salted away enough money to buy his little shack he would have hated me as he hated the lodge members in the Pullmans。 I did not hate those men。 They were doing me a service by traveling across the country。 For they belonged to the fare…paying classes； their money kept the railroads going so they could carry politicians and some of us working men free。
CHAPTER XXII
LOADED DOWN WITH LITERATURE
After I had read the various pamphlets that Bannerman gave me I was like the old negro who went to sleep with his mouth open。 A white man came along and put a spoonful of quinine in his mouth。 When the negro woke up the bitter taste worried him。 〃What does it mean？〃 he asked。 The white man told him it meant that he 〃had done bu'sted his gall bladder and didn't have long to live。〃 A mighty bad taste was left in my mouth by those communist pamphlets。 If they were telling the truth I realized that labor's gall bladder had done bu'sted and we didn't have long to live。 One book said that British capitalists owned all the money in the world and that at a given signal they would draw the money out of America and the working men here would starve to death in twenty…nine days。 It seemed that some crank had fasted that many days in order to get accurate statistics showing just how long the working man could hope to last after England pushed the button for the money panic。
Another book said that Wall Street now owned ninety per cent。 of the wealth in America and was getting the other ten at the rate of eight per cent。 a year。 Within twelve years Wall Street would own everything in the world； and mankind would be left naked and starving。
The wildest book of all was called Caesar's Column。 It was in the form of a novel and told how the rich in America worshiped gold and lust instead of God and brotherly love； and how they drove their carriages over the working man's children and left them crushed and bleeding in the street。 America had ceased to be a republic and was an oligarchy of wealth all owned by a dozen great families while the millions were starving。 The end of the book described a great revolution in which the people arose； led by an Italian communist named Caesar Spadoni。 The mob took all the fine houses and killed the rich people。 Caesar took the bodies and； laying them in cement like bricks； he built an enormous column of corpses in Union Square towering higher than any building in New York。 He established his headquarters in a Fifth Avenue palace and was directing the slaughter of all men who owned property； when some of his followers got jealous of his fine position and killed him and burned the house。 By that time everything in America was destroyed； and the hero of the book； having invented an air…ship； flew away to South Africa to escape the general demolition。 This book was being circulated by communists as a true picture of what the country was coming to。
These pamphlets came into my hands at a time when work was getting scarcer every day and a million men like myself were moving about the country looking for jobs。 Then for the first time I realized my need for a broader education。 If these things were true； it was my duty to stop chasing the vanishing job and begin to organize the workers so that they might destroy the capitalists。 But how could I know whether they were true？ I had no knowledge of past history。 And without knowing the past how could I judge the future？ I was like the old man who had never seen a railroad train。 His sons took him thirty miles over the hills and brought him to the depot where a train was standing。 The old man looked things over and saw that the wheels were made of iron。 〃It will never start；〃 he said。 He knew that if his wagon had heavy iron wheels； his team could never start it。 But his sons said： 〃It will start all right。〃 They had seen it before； they knew its past history。 Soon the train started； gathered speed like a whirlwind and went roaring away down the track。 The old man gazed after it and then； much excited； he exclaimed。 〃It will never stop！〃
The wisest head is no judge unless it has in it the history of past performances。 I had not studied much history in my brief schooling。 The mills called me because they needed men。 Good times were there when I arrived； and as for hard times； I was sure they 〃would never start。〃 Now the hard times were upon us and panic shook the ground beneath our feet。 〃It will never stop；〃 men cried。 Had they studied the history of such things they would have known that hard times come and hard times go； starting and stopping for definite reasons； like the railway train。
I had done the right thing in quitting school and going to the puddling furnaces at a time when we needed iron more than we needed education。 The proverb says； 〃Strike while the iron is hot。〃 The country was building； and I gave it iron to build with。 Railroads were still pushing out their mighty arms and stringing their iron rails across the western wheat lands。 Bridges were crossing the Mississippi and spanning the chasms in the Rocky Mountains。 Chicago and New York were rising in new growth with iron in their bones to hold them high。 My youth was spent in giving to this growing land the element its body needed。
Now that body was sick。 What was the matter with it？ Lacking an education； I was unprepared to say。 When I left school my theory was that every boy should learn a trade as soon as possible。 Now I saw that a trade was not enough。 A worker needs an education； also。 The trade comes first； perhaps； but the education ought to follow on its heels。
During the next ten years of my life I was a worker and a student； too。 My motto was that every one should have at least a high…school education and a trade。
CHAPTER XXIII
THE PUDDLER HAS A VISION
That caravan of railroad cars bearing the happy lodge members to their meeting in the Rockies； had started a train of thought that went winding through my mind ever after。 In fancy I saw the envious Bannerman shaking his fist at his thriftier； happier brothers。 Should I denounce the banding together of men for the promotion of fun and good fellowship？ Were these men hastening the downfall of America as the communist predicted？ Is not good fellowship a necessary feeling in the hearts of civilized men？
Love of comrades had always been a ruling passion with me。 I joined my union as soon as I had learned my trade； the Amalgamated Association of Iron； Steel and Tin Workers of North America。 It was a long name； and we liked every word in it。 We felt the glow of brotherhood； and as I said before； we used to share our jobs with the brother who was out of work。 The union paid a weekly benefit to men who had to strike for better working conditions。 At that time there were no death benefits nor any fund to educate the children of members killed in the mills。 When such a death happened； the union appoi