The Second-Story Man | Page 8

. . . I'm a boozer. I couldn't stop if I wanted to. And I ain't got any reason to want to. I ain't in the running.
MRS. AUSTIN. [Stretching out her arms.] But what can I do ?
JIM. You can look after them that ain't down. Look after them that your husband and the rest of the company's sharks will do up tomorrow.
MRS. AUSTIN. No!
JIM. Oh, they'll do it! I know what you mean . . . you'll make him stop . . . but they'll have another man in his place. It's a machine . . . it goes right on. Yes, and you won't do as much as you think you will, either . . . you'll think it over, and you won't go as far as you mean to now.
MRS. AUSTIN. No! No!
JIM. Ah, but you can't help it . . . you're in the mill, too. It's the class you belong to. You can talk and feel sorry . . . but you ain't made to do things. You have to have your houses and your fine dresses . . . and you couldn't live without them, and there'd be no use your trying. And that means you have to live off my class . . . you have to ride on our backs. And it don't much matter which part you ride on, as far as I can see. You'll make your husband get a new job, maybe; but he'll do the same thing in another way . . . only you won't find it out. But any way he gets his money it'll come out of me and my kind. D'ye see? I do the work . . . I'm the man underneath. I make the good things, and you get them. [A pause.] Good luck to you.
MRS. AUSTIN. You are cruel.
JIM. Nothing of the kind. I've just told you the facts. I feel sorry for you. I'd do anything I could for you. [Stretching out his hands.] See what I've done! I've given you your husband's life.
MRS. AUSTIN. Oh!
JIM. Yes, just that. You've no idea how many times I swore it . . . that I'd kill him on sight . . . that I'd strangle the life out of him, if ever I laid eyes on him again. I used to sit when I was half drunk, and brood over it . . . my God, I even swore it by the body of my little boy! And I've got my gun, and you've taken his away from him. And I don't shoot him. [A pause.] I leave him to you. [Grimly.] You punish him.
[Exit right.]
[AUSTIN stretches out his arms to his wife. She sinks upon the table, burying her head.]
CURTAIN

End of Project Gutenberg Etext The Second-Story Man, by Upton Sinclair

The Second-Story Man

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