“Yes, the usual thing. These labour strikes are constantly occurring with us, Fred. I suppose you know a little about them at Scourby?”
“Oh, yes; we have had our troubles there, and the victories have usually gone with the men.”
“The men are often very unreasonable. They ought not to expect to be paid in bad times the wages which they receive when trade is at its best; but they do.”
“And they seldom save anything for a rainy day,” remarked Mrs. Stapleton, “but live up to their income every week, whatever it may be.”
“And they are awfully extravagant,” said Matilda. “I had the curiosity to ascertain how many of the girls in my Sunday-school class were learning to play the piano, and found that eight out of fourteen are taking lessons. And their parents are buying pianos on the hire system—so much a week for three years. Eight girls! And I believe that, without exception, their parents are artisans. Is it not absurd? I laughed at the idea, and this so offended one child that she left the class. I told her it would be more to her credit if she learned to scrub floors and mend stockings. She became saucy, and said she knew already how to do those things, and should not ask my leave to learn the piano or anything else her parents pleased.”
“You are most partial to the violin yourself, Mat, are you not?” asked the Doctor.
“Oh yes,” said her brother, answering for her. “Mat is wild on the violin, and she has a little beauty.”
“I heard you playing it this morning, I think?”
“Yes; I am as lazy as any of my set, but my dear violin can draw me out of bed in the dead of the night, we are such great friends.”
“Do you think it right to keep that pleasure to yourself?”