question of our ability to last.

The present strike, however, makes quite clear, perhaps for the first time, that it is not the coal in the mountain that is of value, but that which is in the yard. And between the two there may be a great gulf fixed. Therefore, we are put to it to make the best of what we have. We turn from telling how much coal we use to a study of how little we can live upon and do the day's work of the Nation. And this is, I believe, as it should be. Indeed I feel justified in saying that the problem of this strike is not to be solved in its deeper significances until we know much more about coal than we know now, and this especially as to the manner in which it is taken from its bed and brought to our cellars.

PUBLIC RESPONSIBILITY.

This transfer is effected by a kind of carrier chain, the links of which are the operator, the miner, the railroad, and the public. We choose, to please ourselves, the link in this chain upon which we place the responsibility for its failure to work; but before indulging ourselves in abuse of arrogant coal barons or dictatorial labor unions, it may lie as well to ask whether we of the public are not responsible in some part for this failure to function. I do not refer now to the failure of society to provide methods of industrial mediation or other adjustment of such labor difficulties. My question is, whether or not the public is at all at fault when a nation wealthy beyond all others in coal finds itself with so small a supply on hand when a strike comes—but a few days removed from the gravest troubles. The answer, to my mind, turns upon the manner in which we have done business.

We have been content to go without insurance as to a coal reserve. Each day has brought its daily supply. There was no thought of railroads stopping or mines closing down, so that large storage facilities have not been provided, and, indeed, we would rebel at paying for our coal the added cost of caring for it outside its native warehouse. We have not thought in terms of apprehension, but, as always, in the calm certainty that the stream of supply would flow without ceasing. In some way there would be coal into which we could drive our shovels when the need was felt.

No wonder, therefore, that we are rudely disturbed when one link in the carrier chain from coal-in-place to coal-in-the-furnace breaks. It simply is one of those things which doesn't happen. And not having happened sufficiently often to give us fear, we have had no thought that we should provide against it. It is a most heterodox thing to say, but we may find that a bit more foresight on the part of the public would certainly have made less sudden the present crisis. Let us look, for instance, into the matter of the coal miners' year and see if it is not fixed in some degree by the habit of the public in its purchasing.

THE MINERS' YEAR.

The record year, 1918, with everything to stimulate production had an average of only 249 working days for the bituminous mines of the country. This average of the country included a minimum among the principal coal-producing States of 204 days for Arkansas and a maximum of 301 for New Mexico. In such a State as Ohio the average working year is under 200 days. In 1917 the miners of New Mexico reached an average of 321 days, and in the largest field, the Raton field, it was actually 336—probably the record for steady operation.

This short year in coal-mine operation is due in part to seasonal fluctuation in demand. The mines averaged only 24 hours a week during the spring months. The weekly report of that date showed that 80 per cent of the lost time was due to "no market" and only 15 per cent to "labor shortage," while "car shortage" was a negligible factor. In contrast with this should be taken the last week before the strike, when the average hours operated were 39 and "no market" was a negligible item in lost time, while "car shortage" was by far the largest item. It follows that the short year is a source of loss to both operator and mine worker and is a tax on the consumer.[2]

With substantially the same number of mines and miners working this year as last, the accumulative production for the first 10 months of this year is 100,000,000 tons less than that mined in the same period last year. This 25 per cent loss in output means that both plant and labor have been less productive, and, in terms of capital and labor, coal cost the Nation more this year than last. For in the long run both capital and labor require a living wage.

The public must accept responsibility for the coal industry and pay for carrying it on the year round. Mine operators and mine workers of whatever mines are necessary to meet the needs of the country must be paid for a year's work. The shorter the working year the less coal is mined per man and per dollar invested in plant, and eventually the higher priced must be the coal. It is obvious that the 264 short tons of coal mined by the average British miner last year could not be as cheap per ton as the 942 tons mined by the average American mine worker, backed up as he was with more efficient plant. (A proud contrast!)

It would clearly appear that the coal business may be stabilized, not wholly, but in a very large measure, in some of the western fields,[3] if the public does not regard its supply of coal as it does its supply of domestic water, which requires only that the faucet shall be opened to bring forth a gushing supply. Coal does not have pressure behind it which forces it out of the mine and into the coal yard. It rather must be drawn out by the suction of demand. And herein the public must play its part by keeping that demand as steady and uniform as possible.

HAVE WE TOO MANY MINES AND MINERS?

The problem of the miner and his industry may be stated in another way. We consume all the coal we produce. We produce it with labor that upon social and economic grounds works as a rule too few days in the year. We therefore must have a longer miners' year and fewer miners or a longer miners' year and additional markets. One or the other is inevitable unless we are to carry on the industry as a whole as an emergency industry, holding men ready for work when they are not needed in order that they may be ready for duty when the need arises. There are too many mines to keep all the miners employed all of the time or to give them a reasonable year's work. This conclusion is based on the assumption that we now produce only enough coal from all the mines to meet the country's demand, which is the fact. More coal produced would not sell more coal, but more coal demanded would result in greater coal production. With the full demand met by men working two-thirds or less of the time in the year there can not be a longer year given to all the miners without more demand for coal. This seems to be manifest. Therefore the miners must remain working but part time as now, or fewer miners must work more days, or market must be found for more coal and thus all the miners given a longer year. If we worked all of our miners in all of our mines a reasonable year, we would have a great overproduction. And to have all our mines work a longer period means that we must find some place in which to sell more coal, either at home or abroad.

Why have we so many mines working so many miners? There can be no one-word reply to this question. It penetrates into almost every social and economic condition of the country—the