Eight haars wark, eight haars play, eight haars sleep, an' eight shillin
a day.--That saands nice; but them 'at live to see it will live to see
moor nor aw it expect to see. Patience is a varty, soa let's have
patience. Things are better nor they wor, an' they're bun to improve.
Th' thin end o' th' wedge has getten under th' faandation o' that idol
'at tyranny an' fraud set up long sin, an' although fowk bow to it yet,
they dooant do it wi' th' same reverence. Give it a drive wheniver
you've a chonce, an' some day yo'll see it topple ovver, an' once daan
it'll crumble to bits, an' can niver be put up agean. I' th' paper
t'other day, aw saw a report ov a speech whear a chap kept mentionin his
three thaasand hands. He sed nowt abaat three thasand men an'
wimmen--they wor his 'hands'--his three thaasand human machines, an' aw
couldn't help thinkin 'at it wor a pity 'at they'd iver been born wi'
heads an' hearts, they owt to ha been all _hands,_ an' then they'd ha
suited him better. An' he seemed to think bi th' way he tawk'd, 'at but
for him theas three thaasand _hands_ wad ha had to starve, but
Providence had raised him up o' purpose to find 'em summat to do. He
didn't throw aght a hint 'at but for his three thaasand _hands_ he'd a
niver ha been i' Parliament. He didn't think he owed' em owt, net he!
What wor he born for? Why, ov coarse, he wor born to have three thaasand
_hands_. An' what wor th' hands born for? To work for him. It's simple
enuff if you can nobbut see it. Aw had a dream t'other neet, aw'l tell
yo abaat it. Aw thowt ther wor a little chap, he didn't stand moor nor
abaat six or seven inches heigh, but he wor dress'd like a king, an' he
had a sceptre in his hand, an' he had hundreds, may be thaasands, for aw
couldn't caan't 'em, ov _hands_ (aw should call 'em men an' wimmen,
but he call'd 'em _hands_), an' they each stood abaat six feet. Some
wor daycently clooathed, an' some wor hardly clooathed at all, an' they
wor all working to build him a palace; but they wor building it as big
as if a thaasand giants wor to live in it, an' th' stooans an' timbers
wor soa heavy wol they ommost sank under ther looads; an' at times they
seemed soa worn aght 'at aw thowt they'd be foorced to give it up. But
th' little king coom strutting raand wi' his sceptre, an' they lifted
him up i' ther arms, one bi' one, an' he patted' em o' ther cheeks, an'
then they set him daan agean an' went on wi' ther wark, an' he went back
to his velvet cushions an' ligged daan an' laff'd. But ther Iooads kept
gettin heavier, an' at last they wor soa worn aght 'at they detarmined
to goa an' ax him to ease 'em a bit or to give 'em a rest; but when they
spake to him he jumpt up an' shook his sceptre at 'em, an' as sooin as
they saw that they all ran back to ther wark terrified aght o' ther wit,
an' he ordered ther looads to be made heavier still, an' if one on em
offered to complain he shook his sceptre, an' he ran back to his labour.
Aw wondered to mysen whativer this sceptre could be made on 'at should
mak it be such a terror to 'em, an' aw crept behund him wol he wor
asleep, an' put it i' mi pocket, an' then aw hid behund a pillar to
watch 'em. In a bit some on' em grew tired an' luk'd towards th' king,
an' he jumpt up an' felt for his sceptre, but it had gooan, an' then
they rubbed ther een an' luk'd at him, an' then they laff'd an' call'd
all t'others to join' em. Then they picked up th' little king to luk at,
an' they all laff'd, an' th' moor he stormed an' th' better it suited
'em, an' they put him on a square stooan an' made him donce a jig, an'
wol he wor dancing aw tuk aght th' septre to Iuk at, an' aw saw it wor a
ten paand nooat rolled up like a piece o' pipe stopper, an' a hauf a
sovereign at th' end on it. Then they all set up a gurt shaat an' went
off, leavin him to build his own palace, an' as they hustled past me aw
wakkened.