"Here's a daft thing I'm doing for ye!" I said to the manager, who stud there, still laughin' at me. "Hoo much am I tae be paid for this, I'll no mak' a fool o' masel', singing into that great tin tube, unless ye mak' the reason worth my while."
He spoke up then—it had been nae mair than an experiment we'd planned, ye'll ken. And I'll tell ye straight that what he tauld me surprised me—I'd had nae idea that there was sae muckle siller to be made frae such foolishness, as I thocht it a' was then. I'll admit that the figures he named fair tuk my breath awa'. I'll no be tellin' ye what they were, but, after he'd tauld them tae me, I'd ha' made a good record for my first one had I had to stay there trying all nicht.
"All richt," I said. "Ca' awa'—I'm the man for ye if it's sae muckle ye're willin' tae pay me."
"Oh, aye—but we'll get it all back, and more beside," said the manager. "Ye're a rare find for us, Harry, my lad. Ye'll mak' more money frae these records we'll mak' togither than ye ha' ever done upon the stage. You're going to be the most popular comic the London halls have ever known, but still, before we're done with you, we'll pay you more in a year than you'll make from all your theatrical engagements."
"Talk sense, man," I tauld him, wi' a laugh. "That can never be."
Weel, ye'll not be asking me whether what he said has come true or nicht. But I don't mind tellin' ye the man was no sica fool as I thocht him!
Eh, noo—here's what I'm thinking. Here am I, Harry Lauder. For ane reason or anither, I can do something that others do not do, whether or no they can—as to that I ken nothing. All I know is that I do something others ha' nae done, and that folk enow ha' been willin' and eager to pay me their gude siller, that they've worked for. Am I a criminal because o' that? Has any man the richt to use me despitefully because I've hit upon a thing tae do that ithers do no do, whether or no they can? Should ithers be fashed wi' me because I've made ma bit siller? I canna see why!
The things that ha' aye moved me ha' moved thousands, aye millions o' other men. There's joy in makin' ithers happy. There's hard work in it, tae, and the laborer is worthy o' his hire.
Then here's anither point. Wad I work as I ha' worked were I allowed but such a salary as some committee of folk that knew nothing o' my work, and what it cost me, and meant tae me in time ta'en frae ma wife and ma bairn at hame? I'll be tellin' ye the answer tae that question, gi'en ye canna answer it for yersel'. It's NO! And it's sae, I'm thinkin', wi' most of you who read the words I've written. Ye'll mind yer own affairs, and sae muckle o' yer neighbors as he's not able to keep ye from findin' oot when ye tak' the time for a bit gossip!
It'll be all verra weel to talk of socialism and one thing and another. We've much tae do tae mak' the world a better place to live in. But what I canna see, for the life o' me, is why it should be richt to throw awa' all our fathers have done. Is there no good in the institutions that have served the world up to now? Are we to mak' everything ower new? I'm no thinking that, and I believe no man is thinking that, truly. The man who preaches the destruction of everything that is and has been has some reasons of his own not creditable to either his brain or his honesty, if you'll ask me what I think.