That would about satisfy him. That such jobs were waiting by the
score for an educated German in this barbarous land he never doubted
for a moment. In the end he went to work in a rolling-mill at a
dollar a day. Adler was ever a stickler for etiquette. In Brady's
Bend we had very little of it. At mealtimes a flock of chickens used
to come into the summer kitchen where we ate, and forage around,
to Adler's great disgust. One day they deliberately flew up on the
table, and fell to fighting with the boarders for the food. A big
Shanghai rooster trod in the butter and tracked it over the table.
At the sight Adler's rage knew no bounds. Seizing a half-loaf of
bread, he aimed it at the rooster and felled him in his tracks. The
flock of fowl flew squawking out of the door. The women screamed,
and the men howled with laughter. Adler flourished another loaf
and vowed vengeance upon bird or beast that did not let the butter
alone.
I have been often enough out of patience with the ways of the labor
men which seem to me to be the greatest hindrance to the success of
their cause; but I am not in danger of forgetting the other side
which makes that cause--if for no other reason, because of an
experience I had in Buffalo that year.
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