The daily worker. [volume] (Chicago, Ill.) 1924-1958, 1924-10-18

WSA6hbyg VIC WANT " near dDOuJ I'LL.
We are not merely concerned with
his personal appearance that will
serve to embellish the story. What
he does in general or better, what he
did in particular. That is what we
are after.
We Want The News.
The DAILY WORKER is interested
in getting the news from the work
shops. And we would like to have it
told just as one worker would tell it
to another after the days work. For
get that you are writing for publica-
ton. Take your pen, or better still,
your typewriter, as If Steve Brown
was sitting in front of you. and begin
at the beginning. There is no parti-
cular way to begin telling a story.
That depends on you. 1 usually begin
at the beginning.
For example, Jack mclaughlin
comes home one evening and while
his wife is getting supper ready, she
notices that his brow is flushed and
inquiries Whats the matter this eve
ming, Jack? The boss getting under
your skin again?"
Jack Curses AmiabIy.
Yea" replies Jack. deleting the
string Of terms that woald lend en-
phasis, if not dignity. to his language,
but for the moderating influence of
Mrs. Mclaughlin, that beetle-brow-
ed, empty-headed, atavistic moron
pulled Off as dirty trick today as l
ever witnessed in my Life"
Mclaughlin works in a railroad
freight yard and his boss Is a beefy
fellow by the name of Sidebottom.
The SurIy Sidebottom.
you know old Finklestad," con-
tinues Mclaughlin, as he proceeds
to demolish the supper. Wife mods.
well, shortly after the noon hour to-
day, Sidebottom told the old man who
had fairly easy job, eiling trucks and
doing the odd Jobs, that he would have
to pull his pound from now on or
look around for another job. Finkel-
stad has been there for over fifteen
years and has given the best years
OF his life to the company.
"But Sidebottom, in order to make
himself strong with the railroad
chiefs, has lost whatever spark Of
humanity he ever had in his soul
He forced poor Finkelstad to take a
truck and haul heavy loads for the
rest Of the day. The old fellow was
barely able tn walk homo
Had No Union.
Il told Sidebottom l had a good
mind to knock some Of the mutton
out Of him, but he just growled and
walked away What can we do? We
had union once and did not have
enough brains to keep it."
You could tell your story in this
conversational style.
On the other hand, there is Bill
Stafford, the foreman on the docks.
He is shabby looking fellow, with
very vile tongue. John Casey,
comes home one evening and while
smoking his pipe after supper, Tom
Shachtstein, neighbour, walked in.
Casey is laughing. Shachtstein asks
Il
him what he is laughing at. II am
laughing at Stafford, that sawed-off
foreman of ours. He was as mad as
a halter today. Everything was going
wrong with him. He hired two men
early in the morning. They were
hauling -four to the gangplank, every
truck carrying 1900 pounds. The
man on the handles was pulling like
the devil, but his partner who was
supposed to shove, was more of a
liability than an asset. Stafford fred
him after cursing = blue streak at
him.
A Catholic cursing.
According to the union rules, there
must be two men on each truck and
the greenhorn on the handles know
ing that, sat down on his machine,
took out his pipe and lit up.
Stafford was fit to be tied. He is
good Catholic and it is said that he
goes In holv communion avarv dow