Bill hesitated for a comparison.

“Like a thousand of brick,” Perry Purtett suggested, sotto voce.

The Chairman took this as a hint to himself.

“Like a thousand of brick,” he said, with the voice of a Stentor.

Here the audience roared and cheered, and the Orator got a fresh start.

“When you came, Mr. Wade,” he resumed, “we was about sick of putty-heads and sneaks that didn’t know enough or didn’t dare to make us stand round and bone in.  You walked in, b’ilin’ over with grit.  You took hold as if you belonged here.  You made things jump like a two-headed tarrier.  All we wanted was a live man, to say, ’Here, boys, all together now!  You’ve got your stint, and I’ve got mine.  I’m boss in this shop,—­but I can’t do the first thing, unless every man pulls his pound.  Now, then, my hand is on the throttle, grease the wheels, oil the walves, poke the fires, hook on, and let’s yank her through with a will!’”

At this figure the meeting showed a tendency to cheer.  “Silence!” Perry sternly suggested.  “Silence!” repeated the Chair.

“Then,” continued the Orator, “you wasn’t one of the uneasy kind, always fussin’ and cussin’ round.  You wasn’t always spyin’ to see we didn’t take home a cross-tail or a hundred-weight of cast-iron in our pants’ pockets, or go to swiggin’ hot metal out of the ladles on the sly.”

Here an enormous laugh requited Bill’s joke.  Perry prompted, the Chair banged with his bolt and cried, “Order!”

“Well, now, boys,” Tarbox went on, “what has come of having one of the right sort to be boss?  Why, this.  The Works go ahead, stiddy as the North River.  We work full time and full-handed.  We turn out stuff that no shop needs to be ashamed of.  Wages is on the nail.  We have a good time generally.  How is that, boys,—­Mr. Chairman and Gentlemen?”

“That’s so!” from everybody.

“And there’s something better yet,” Bill resumed.  “Dunderbunk used to be full of crying women.  They’ve stopped crying now.”

Here the whole assemblage, Chairman and all, burst into an irrepressible cheer.

“But I’m making my speech as long as a lightning-rod,” said the speaker.  “I’ll put on the brakes, short.  I guess Mr. Wade understands pretty well, now, how we feel; and if he don’t, here it all is in shape, in this document, with ‘Whereas’ at the top and ‘Resolved’ entered along down in five places.  Mr. Purtett, will you hand the Resolutions to the Superintendent?”

Perry advanced and did his office loftily, much to the amusement of Wade and the workmen.

“Now,” Bill resumed, “we wanted, besides, to make you a little gift, Mr. Wade, to remember the day by.  So we got up a subscription, and every man put in his dime.  Here’s the present,—­hand ’em over, Perry!

“There, Sir, is THE BEST PAIR OF SKATES to be had in York City, made for work, and no nonsense about ’em.  We Dunderbunk boys give ’em to you, one for all, and hope you’ll like ’em and beat the world skating, as you do in all the things we’ve knowed you try.