He was new at the business and was obviously torn between conflicting emotions of pride in his present important position and a wholesome fear of his "boss." However, having cleared his throat, Mr.Wigglesworth pulled himself together and with a wave of the hand began.
"These 'ere--er--gentlemen an' myself 'ave been (h)appinted a Committee to lay before you certain grievances w'ich we feel to be very (h)oppressive, sir, so to speak, w'ich, an' meanin' no offence, sir, as men, fellow-men, as we might say--" "What do you want, Wigglesworth?
What's your trouble?
You have some trouble, what is it?
Spit it out, man," said the boss sharply.
"Well, sir, as I was a-sayin', this 'ere's a Committee (h)appinted to wait on you, sir, to lay before you certain facts w'ich we wish you to consider an' w'ich, as British subjecks, we feel--" "Come, come, Wigglesworth, cut out the speech, and get at the things.
What do you want?
Do you know?
If so, tell me plainly and get done with it." "We want our rights as men," said Mr.Wigglesworth in a loud voice, "our rights as free men, and we demand to be treated as British--" "Is there anyone of this Committee that can tell me what you want of me ?" said Maitland.

"You, Gilby, you have some sense--what is the trouble?
You want more wages, I suppose ?" "I guess so," said Gilby, a long, lean man, Canadian born, of about thirty, "but it ain't the wages that's eatin' me so much." "What then ?" "It's that blank foreman." "Foreman ?" "That's right, sir." "Too blanked smart!" "Buttin' in like a blank billy goat!" The growls came in various undertones from the Committee.
"What foreman?
Hoddle ?" The boss was ready to fight for his subalterns.
"No! Old Hoddle's all right," said Gilby.

"It's that young smart aleck, Tony Perrotte." "Tony Perrotte!" Mr.Maitland's voice was troubled and uncertain.

"Tony Perrotte! Why, you don't mean to tell me that Perrotte is not a good man.

He knows his job from the ground up." "Knows too much," said Gilby.