Thus discussing the plans, the party drove to the edge of the forest; and as there was no road through it, they walked to the lake on the hill, following the course of a pretty brook that wound down through the woods, across the land, and emptied into the river. It was noon when they returned and drove to the spot where the temporary building for the brick-making was going up. As the carriage approached, the “boss” of the operations came forward and saluted the count with great deference. The count gave him his hand cordially and presented him to the rest of the party. “This is Mr. Stevens, Dr. Forest, with whom you will soon be better acquainted. He is a scientific man, as well as an accomplished artisan, and to him we look for the transformation of this sand into stone bricks.” Then the count presented him to the ladies separately, saying, “These are the heads of the firm of Dykes & Delano, Florists, of whom you have heard.” He had not, in fact, but did not confess that, as he took the offered hands of the ladies. “They will conduct the florist and nursery industry of our future social palace.” While the count was talking and listening to the conversation of the rest, his eyes were busy with the scene before him. There, on piles of lumber, on the ground, on carts, everywhere, the men, some alone, some in small groups, were seated, each one with a long, narrow tin pail or kettle, out of which they were eating their principal meal of the day. Frauenstein looked at Clara. There was an appeal in his eyes that she understood.
“Mr. Stevens,” she said, “where you have so many workmen who will be engaged here regularly for months, would it not be practicable to have a table set for them in the building you are putting up? It would seem so much more fraternal and——”
“Human, you would say, madam. Ah! madam, that is the way I ate my dinner for years.”
“By ——, it’s a shame!” exclaimed the doctor.
The count asked permission of Mr. Stevens to speak to his men; and driving near a group of three seated on a pile of boards, he said,
“My friends, I wish to ask you a question—not out of curiosity, believe me, but from a motive which you will approve.”
“Go ahead, sir,” said one of the men, tearing off a piece of tough meat with his teeth.
“I want you to make me an estimate of the cost, the average cost, as near as you can come at it, of a workingman’s lunch, such as you are eating to-day.”
“I think mine, boss, costs about as much as that you give your dog every day,” said a low-browed rough man seated near the group addressed.
“Sure would ye spake to a gintleman like that, Mikey? It’s onmannerly in ye, onyhow.”