PFEIFER
That's done!--Weigh! [_The weaver places his web on the scales._] If you
only understood your business a little better! Full of lumps again.... I
hardly need to look at the cloth to see them. Call yourself a weaver, and
"draw as long a bow" as you've done there!
_BECKER has entered. A young, exceptionally powerfully-built weaver;
offhand, almost bold in manner. PFEIFER, NEUMANN, and the APPRENTICE
exchange looks of mutual understanding as he comes in._
BECKER
Devil take it! This is a sweatin' job, and no mistake.
FIRST WEAVER
[_In a low voice._] This blazin' heat means rain.
[_OLD BAUMERT forces his way in at the glass door on the right,
through which the crowd of weavers can be seen, standing shoulder to
shoulder, waiting their turn. The old man stumbles forward and lays
his bundle on the bench, beside BECKER'S. He sits down by it, and
wipes the sweat from his face._
OLD BAUMERT
A man has a right to a rest after that.
BECKER
Rest's better than money.
OLD BAUMERT
Yes, but we _needs_ the money too. Good mornin' to you, Becker!
BECKER
Mornin', father Baumert! Goodness knows how long we'll have to stand here
again.
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