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A good paymaster does not hesitate to give good security.
A good paymaster is keeper of other men's purses.
From a bad paymaster take straw--i.e. any trifle.
A Million Young Work Men
A million young workmen straight and strong lay stiff on the grass and roads,
And the million are now under soil and their rottening flesh will in the years feed roots of blood-red roses.
Yes, this million of young workmen slaughtered one another and never saw their red hands.
And oh, it would have been a great job of killing and a new and beautiful thing under the sun if the million knew why they hacked and tore each other to death.
The kings are grinning, the Kaiser and the czar—they are alive riding in leather-seated motor cars, and they have their women and roses for ease, and they eat fresh-poached eggs for breakfast, new butter on toast, sitting in tall water-tight houses reading the news of war.
I dreamed a million ghosts of the young workmen rose in their shirts all soaked in crimson … and yelled:
God damn the grinning kings, God damn the kaiser and the czar.
poem by Carl Sandburg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The reason why great men meet with so little pity or attachment in adversity, would seem to be this: the friends of a great man were made by his fortune, his enemies by himself, and revenge is a much more punctual paymaster than gratitude.
quote by Charles Caleb Colton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Furthermore, there is no good ethical or economic reason for asking workmen and current producers to forego all economic gain in order to increase the purchasing power of all the wealth accumulated in past years.
quote by Charles E. Wilson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Payroll and the obedient servant's redress
His name was not in the paymaster's list and the whole wage has deducted for his food & lodging.
Where he goes to compensate?
He sleeps under the huge thorny money tree
But the bitter fruits are not ripen yet.
Though he waits for the coming season
Yet he has to re-validate his torn season-ticket.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Six O'Clock
Now burst above the city's cold twilight
The piercing whistles and the tower-clocks:
For day is done. Along the frozen docks
The workmen set their ragged shirts aright.
Thro' factory doors a stream of dingy light
Follows the scrimmage as it quickly flocks
To hut and home among the snow's gray blocks. --
I love you, human labourers. Good-night!
Good-night to all the blackened arms that ache!
Good-night to every sick and sweated brow,
To the poor girl that strength and love forsake,
To the poor boy who can no more! I vow
The victim soon shall shudder at the stake
And fall in blood: we bring him even now.
poem by Trumbull Stickney
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By the work one knows the workmen.
quote by Jean De La Fontaine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Where there are too many workmen, there is little work.
The wine given to your workmen is that for which you get the best paid.
At the end of the work you may judge of the workmen.
God buries His workmen but carries on His work.
quote by Charles Wesley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Not to watch your workmen is to lose your money.
Collector
The collector
I was a collector of paper napkins, every day I used to go around
picking them up, they were usually smeared with human saliva
and scum fat of cheap food. I had twenty bags full in my garage,
I stored them there since I have no car but like to mention that
I have a garage. One morning when I entered to pick up the stick,
with a nail in the end, the one I picked napkins with, the sacks
had turned in to tired workmen resting after slaving long hours
in the factory of hell. I opened the garage door they were free to
go and I saw them vanishing into the morning glare. They had
done their duty no more was excepted of them. From now on
till rain came they were be free, dance with dust and leave and
disappear on their own accord when time was right... My garage
is empty now but the smell of sweat and struggle lingers with old
jokes repeated a hundred times in workmen’s canteen
poem by Oskar Hansen
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