The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1897-02-07
At AN ANARCHIST CLUB.
A Typical Sunday Evening Meeting of
London RevOIutiOnists.
London Daily Mail.

London Daily Mail
Being Sunday evening ii is raining. A fog.
which is only waiting for the rain to leave
off in order to sep in and settle down to
business, obscures the one lamp of Paradise
row, E.: so that visitors in the large num-
Der OF instances, cropping for the door of
No. Is, step into the puddle that spans the
broken pavement. No. % is exactly like all
the other houses in the street, except that
it is closely suffered and dark, and, like
most things in Paradise row. looks as if
1t would be better for a good wash. The
visitor knocks at it's door which opens in
Hospitality Few inches; a few words are
exchanged; foggy voice says, Pass, COM
ride, and you are inside. There is a brief
interval of black passage, and then a
lighted room, hazy with tobacco smoke. It's
chief furniture is a bar. where you may
get beer or spirits, or q hard-boiled egg
and sandwiches, or a cigar of Hamburg.
The room is pretty well filled-not crowded
as it was in the days before Rourdin's
fatal slip with the picric acid bomb at
Greenwich, but still well filled. There used
to be more foreign faces in the club-mem-
bers whose features and antecedents were
not unfamiliar to continental police bu-
reaux. and who (after that regrettable mis-
number of inconsiderate inquiries it set ON
fooD began TO find the faces of the police
of this country little too familiar for
their taste. So the club has dwindled but
this is the time of year at which its
meetings are at their best In the
long days OF summer there are the parks
ana other distractions, and the PRINCIPLES of
anarchy languish. In the winter evenings
propaganda and principles look up. the
membership increases and the messages in
TENDED by the Anarchists for mankind are
delivered TO one another. The Paradise-row
Anarchists are here, therefore I'm sufficient
numbers TO give the shirt-sleeved secretary
plenty TO do behind the bar. A large pro-
portion of them are Germans and Poles
from the Iiddish colony of the East End
there are a few French faces and one or
Two ltai an and a group of two or three
russians, habitueS of the club who talk lit
tie except among themselves but play dom
NOES seCuiously. An old man. who is re-
puted TO have been famous Chartist in the
ola days, ana VINO looks as Ii he had not
washed himself since those stirring times
is selling newspapers-the Workers Friend
which is printed in Yiddish l. Homme Lii
pre-. the treiheit, the Free Arbeiter Stur-
me, which comes from New York and La
Revolte French journal which has a
curious story attached to its editorship. At
the PACK OF the room the scarlet and black
banner OF the club-whch has been in the
nands oil the poiice-hurls defiance at the
oRHpressor. with the motto. There is time
when our silence will be more powerful
than the voices you stihe to-day
There is no sitting of voices within the
pari DOM OF the club. Everybody is talking at
once, preparatory TO going upstairs to the
meeting To one of the groups by the
par the barkeeper is narrating "a CONVERSE
tlon which ne had with soulless police
man. with whom he appears, however, to
| have been on friendly terms why have
| you linked yourself with the tyrant and
| the OppreSSor? | asks of him; and he an
| swers: Yes, no yes that's ali right An
| archys all right, but I'm bloomin SER
geant of police says he. What about my
i'm xxrifa nd lit dep h. A
| replies TO him ironic. Why L says, what
| about-two of gin and seegar fright. "
and the barkeeper's audience. under cover
of the attention which he has 10 give &c
fulfilling this order, drifts off to experiences
| of its own. In another part OF the room
a dark meager little man., with close
| of some of his auditors to regard them.
selves as Anarchists at all; You Ing
| leesh,'' he says, scornfully. with you it is
not serious Eet is all propaganda. propa'
| ganda, propaganda. In England il is nc
! good. Zere is too moch talk. Zere is also >
| he concludes acutely. too leetle oppres'
sion" AT the bar again the barkeeper, mo-
| mentarily released from his duties. is just
| endeavoring 10 engage the attention OF q
| thirsty Anarchist in the account of his con
| versation with the policeman, when some
| body coming down the stairs which lead tC
| gin sharp" and in a few minutes the bar
| room has decanted itself into the lecture
| on tho boards of the long lecture room
| ible Its roofbeams-it looks as If it might
have been a hayloft; and ii was once USED
| as a schoolroom-dre hung with Chinese
/ lanterns and its gas brackets are pink will
| twisted paper. benches are laid along II
and "A little stage at one end is set with
| scene which represents rather Cheerful
| dungeon. The orchestra Is an aged piano
| Other emblems which lend festivity to the
| appearance OF the hall, and yet testify e
| the opinions of it's audience. are some high
! IL categorical placards representing th'
| iniuuitous relations OF capital and labor.
| few forbidding portraits of Socialist lead
| ers and ar ornamental scarlet banner a
the back OF the hall, which asks in blacl
| letters: Shall starVe?' The baci
benches of the hall are already filled witt
! q pack OF children who are allowed I,
| come along with their mothers to the Sun
| day evening meetings, and who receive III,
entertainment with much the same feeling
| as those with which they would welcome
| penny reading.
II is some time before the audience set
ties itself into its places. Benches scrap
| and creak; there Is a hustle TO open sky
ligh:, for the low-pitched room soon get
| no. and choky with the smoke of Ham
burg cigars and much inferior tobacco, an,
thu children have TO be settled into some
| thing approaching quiet and order. Som
OF the Anarchists take their coats on