THE FACTORY STRIKE.

ACT I.

SCENE I.-Exterior of Public House, U. E. R.-Sign board, "Pig's Head"-Country view-back groundSNIPE, MOSELY, BROWN, GREENER, JOHNSON, and, other WORKMEN, drinking at tables in various parts of the stage-TIM GUZZLE seated on a table, R.

CHORUS.

Though poor don't forget,

We in union have met,
No master we own but the law;
Stern fortune may frown,

But we're never cast down,
But laugh at our grief, boys, ha! ha!

BASS SOLO.

Come boys, here's a toast,

Of which workmen may boast,
Drink, drink lads and don't be afraid;

We'll join the ha! ha!

And laugh at the law,

"With short jobs and workmen well paid."

[Chorus repeated.

Snipe. Why, I say Measter Greener, you don't drink

-you seem troubled with the blues, man:

Brown. Why, he be out o'work, and that makes him at a stand still,

Green. Yes, I be out o'work, and mony of us'll be at a stand still while the machines are going. Dom 'em, I wish I could smash 'em. [Dashing jug on table,

Tim. Hollo! you Greener, don't you go for to knock my jugs to pieces-yes, you may look black; do you think they cost me nothing? I don't know what business the waiter had to bring you earthenware. say, Billy! [Billy enters R.] Come here! now you stupid goat-you little hound--you white-faced ape-you puppy—didn't I tell you not to bring the brown jugs to any body, unless they had plenty of tin.

Billy. Why Master, he used to

Tim. He used? why, you fool-you gaby, don't you know he's out o'work? if you shut your eyes you can see that he can't afford to pay for the luxury of drinking out of such a jug as this. Rusty tin for empty pockets-brown earth for the shiners.

Green. How things alter in a few hours-yesterday it was, How are you Measter Greener, draw the best ale for Measter Greener-wipe the jug afore you give it to Measter Greener-now, its you Greener rusty tin for Greener, who was every thing yesterday, and to-day he is treated like a dog. When I didn't want assistance, all could offer it; but now I do want it, damn me, but I may whistle for't. Snipe. Ha! here comes Tom Harris.

i Enter HARRIS, R.

Harris. Well lads, good even to ye.

All. Your health, Harris.

Harris. Thanks! you seem to be enjoying yourselves. Snipe. Why not join us?

Harris. What!, knowing we are slaves. I say, lads, you all know Miles Williams.

All. Aye, aye.

Harris. He was discharged from Blake's factory some time since, when they took to using machinery-his family were starving at home-he dared to beg-the parish authorities seized him and committed him to the county jail, because he dared beg a bit of bread for his famished family. All. Shame!

Harris. Look at the oppression of the masters-machinery is getting into use everywhere; true, our employers hold off; still we may expect it, or worse.

Snipe. Never mind now, Tom-give us a toast.

All. Aye, aye.

Harris. Well, "here's may manual labour never be cut down by machinery!

[Men cheer. Tim. [Gets up on a chair with the newspaper in hand.] Gentlemen!

All. Hear-bravo, Tim.

Tim. Unaccustomed as I am to public speaking, I can't open my mouth without something sup-without something sup[Looks at paper.

Snipe. Never mind the soup, Tim.

Tim. [Breaks jug on his head-Snipe cries out.] There's a ticket for soup-now don't you interrupt me again.

All. No, no-shame!

Tim. Well, gentlemen, as I was a saying, I fully agree with what has fallen from my learned friend. I beg to say that I am a friend to all labourers, while they are in employment; [Aside.] and while there's a gallon of ale in my house, you all shall have it

All. Bravo, Tim.

Tim. While you can pay for it. [Takes Brown's jug up and finishes its contents.] Why Brown, you arn't got any thing in your jug.

Brown. Arn't I? well, there's plenty in your cellar, I

suppose.

Tim. Yes, but I like tip for tap-here, Billy.

Enter BILLY, R.

Tim. Fill this jug. [Aside.] Not quite; put a good head upon it—it's for Brown. [Exit Billy.] I say, Harris, I hear that the house of Ashfield and Co. intend using machinery.

All. No, no-can't be.

Tim. Well, I've heard it said, but don't believe it, nevertheless, that Mr. Ashfield is the workmen's friend-come along Billy, my beau.

Re-enter BILLY, with ale..

Tim. Give me Brown's ale-good measure, Billy? [Billy shakes his head] Come Brown, down with the dust. Brown. You must put it down.

Tim. Here, Billy. [Aside.] Put down on the slate a pint and half to Brown; do ye hear?-now go-Brown, your health. [Offers the jug to Brown, who is going to take it,

but Tim draws it back.] But stop, I must give you a toast; "here's the Firm of Ashfield and Co, and success to it." All. Hear, hear.

Tim. I say, Brown, you havn't drank. [Gives him jug. Brown. [Looking in the jug.] No, but you have though. Tim. Yes, I like my ale, particularly when other people pay for it-capital ale.

Billy. [Running on.] Oh, Measter! here be Muster Ashfield coming this way.

Tim. I'm glad of it-perhaps he'll stand something handsome-go and bow him this way, Billy.

Enter MR. ASHFIELD, U. E. L.—all rise and bow.

Ash. My friends, being informed that you were passing your evening here, I have come to address a few words to you, and to set your minds at rest on a subject which at present agitates ye: you know full well the feelings of myself and partners respecting machinery; it is not our wish to see the industrious labourer unemployed, still I assure you that our best exertions cannot keep pace with the powerful rivals who so effectually oppose us; our business rapidly falls off, and total ruin threatens us. I now therefore, for myself and fellow partners, promise you employment without the aid of machines; but it must be at a reduced scale of wages.

[Cheers and murmurs, the former predominate. Tim. [Aside.] Hem! Wages reduced-ah, then I shall I shall reduce my ale.

Ash. Some may murmur, but the books are open for your inspection if you think we want to cheat you—and mark, also, as soon as business increases again, your full wages shall be restored. [Men, "hear, hear."] Landlord, supply the men with whatever they require, at my expense.

Tim. Mr. Ashfield, you are the Prince of manufacturers -I always thought you a gentleman, but now I've a better opinion of you than ever. Here, Billy, get some of the best jugs-do ye hear? [Exit, kicking Billy, D. F.

Ash. Then my friends, do we conclude this business settled? Good day. [Erit, R. U. E.—the men bowing him off. Snipe. Well, Harris, don't you think that be a fair offer? Harris. Pshaw! a fair offer?-you're a set o'fools to be gull'd by that fellow's palaver.

Brown. [R.] He said we might see the books-let's take him at his word.

Harris. The books may be prepared to deceive us.
Snipe. That may be true.

Harris. I'll never agree to be ground down and trampled on like this, if we are men, let us stand up boldly and demand our rights-you have wives and children at home, they look to you for bread, and now our small earnings are to be diminished-it shan't be, sooner than submit, I'd set the factory in flames.

Enter WARNER, R. U. E.-they all welcome him.

War. Well, my friends, so our employer has been here, and made an offer of reduced wages, what's your resolution?

Harris. Warner, our resolution is to strike,-—we have worked like slaves, without the means of keeping body and soul together; we'll now have full wages, or revenge, this night shall end it.

War. Nay, nay, let reason guide you, your employers seek to protect themselves, and do justice to their honest labourers to effect this, they propose as a last resource, a reduction of wages, and shall we basely frustrate their noble intentions? no, let us rather assist them, and not work their ruin and our own downfall.

Brown. Well, I thinks my plan was the best, let's boldly demand to see the books, and if things be as they're represented-why-there's an end on't.

All, excepting Warner. Aye, aye.

Harris. Well, as you like, but mark my words, you'll see no books o'theirs I'll take my davy on't. Come on, lads. [Exeunt all, L. U. E. except Warner. War. So, it has come to this-a strike !-mad, infatuated fools-Harris will lead them to destruction, if they strike, can I desert them?-yet my wife and infant child, must they perish? Oh, little did he, who first contemplated doing manual labour by machinery think of the misery it would excite, yet man disappointed, many when driven to despair, like the angry torrent cannot be repelled-Heaven grant this may end without strife or bloodshed. Ha! I must hasten, or they'll reach the factory before me.

[Exit L. U. E.

Re-enter TIMOTHY, R. followed by BILLY, having in each hand a can of ale, jugs, &c.

Tim. Now then, gentlemen-now then-why bless me,