"If I only knew what they really wanted," he bitterly mused.

"It cannot be wages.

Their wages are two or three times what they were before the war--shop conditions are all that could be desired--the Lord knows I have spent enough in this welfare stuff and all that sort of thing during these hard times.
I have heard of no real grievances.

I am sick of it all.

I guess I am growing too old for this sort of thing." There was a tap at the door and his son appeared, with a cheery greeting.
"Come in, Jack," said his father, "I believe you are the very man I want." "Hello, Dad.