Only twice on the entire trip were horses attached to the machine; but a sparking coil is absolutely essential, and when one gives out it is pretty hard to make repairs on the road.  In case of necessity a coil may be unwound, the trouble discovered and remedied, but that is a tedious process.  It was much easier to leave the machine for the night, run into Worcester on the trolley which passed along the same road, and bring out a new coil in the morning.

Monday happened to be Labor Day, and it was only after much trouble that a place was found open where electrical supplies could be purchased.  In addition to a coil, the electrician took out some thoroughly insulated double cable wire; the wiring of the machine had been so carelessly done and with such light, cheap wire that it seemed a good opportunity to rewire throughout.

The electrician—­a very competent and quick workman he proved to be—­was so sure the trouble could not be in the coil that he did not wish to carry out a new one.

When ready to start, we found the trolley line blocked by a Labor Day parade that was just beginning to move.  The procession was unusually long on account of striking trades unionists, who turned out in force.  As each section of strikers passed, the electrician explained the cause of their strike, the number of men out, and the length of time they had been out.

It seemed too bad that big, brawny, intelligent men could find no better way of adjusting differences with employers than by striking.

A strike is an expensive luxury.  Three parties are losers,—­the community in general by being deprived for the time being of productive forces; the employers by loss on capital invested; the employees by loss of wages.  The loss to the community, while very real, is little felt.  Employers, as a rule, are prepared to stand their losses with equanimity; in fact, when trade is dull, or when an employer desires to make changes in his business, a strike is no inconvenience at all; but the men are the real losers, and especially those with families and with small homes unpaid for; no one can measure their losses, for it may mean the savings of a lifetime.  It frequently does mean a change in character from an industrious, frugal, contented workman with everything to live for, to a shiftless and discontented man with nothing to live for but agitation and strife.

It is easy to acquire the strike habit, and impossible to throw it off.  A first strike is more dangerous than a first drink; it makes a profound and ineradicable impression.  To quit work for the first time at the command of some central organization is an experience so novel that no man can do it without being affected; he will never again be the same steady and indefatigable workman; the spirit of unrest creeps in, the spirit of discontent closely follows; his life is changed; though he never goes through another strike, he can never forget his first.