The daily worker. [volume] (Chicago, Ill.) 1924-1958, 1924-04-19


Face of the Revolution. And it is
story that tells about the snow of
yesteryear melted under the fence.)
So likewise we, when we shall see
all these things know that 1t Is near,
even at the doors. st. Matthew, "a,
80.
Some years ago the merchants
wife Olga Nicolayevna Jmukhina had
a pumping station built at the foot
of Siberia Mountain. The station was
nick-named after its owner, Olga
Nicolayevna. No water was being
pumped any more, but the whistle still
blew regularly at 8 o'clock in the
morning, and at and 1 in the after
noon. Whenever the morning whistle
blew at the foot of the mountain, Ivan
Petrovitch Bekesh, VINO lived az the
other end of the city, would wake
up, and, filled with an inexpressible
sadness in his half-drowsy state,
would begin to weave dreams about
the beauty of human life and the
splendor of human spring. Ivan Pet
roVitch had once passed two days on
the Volga, and the whistle of Olga
Nicolayevna seemed to him exactly
like that of Caucasus Mercury. Who
indeed, does not know the sweet
melancholy of the volga in spring
and the longing its cool, red morn
ings inspire to embrace the whole
world? Ivan Petrovitch would get
up, drink his classical carrot-tea, and
go to work at the Finance Section.
The life of Ivan Petrovitch was dull.
olga NicoIayevna stood at the foot
of the mountain, and on the mountain
itself, beyond the ramparts, near the
Kremlin Gates, was the building for
merly known as the Social, now as
the Communist Club. At the O'Clock
whistle, Doctor Audrey Andreyevitch
Veralsky dropped in for lunch. In
the old days, the bartender would
call his boy before the doctors ar
rival and say, Hey kid, make it
fresh" And the boy would use his
tongue to refreshen the caviar sand
witches which he handed the doctor to-
gether with a glass of vodka. Now,
the doctor was served an empty glass
which he would fill from a special
vial, always kept in his vest pocket.
But as ever before, when lunch was
over, the doctor would shout thru
the window and across the street:
"Ilya, fetch the carriage" and drive
forth to his patients.
Christmas.
Owing to the holiday, the whistle
Of Olga Nicolayevna did not blow at
4. The real olga Nicolayevna, Mrs.
Jmukhina, had died from terror two
years previously when her furs and
smoked geese were requisitioned.
Hand-written posters hung on the
walls of the club. And the barten-
der knew that the orchestra Of the
Cavalry Division would play on
Christmas night at the ball of the
Voyenkom* to celebrate his wife's
birthday, and that on New Years
eve (old style) the Voyenspetz -
Of the Division would arrange an out
of town picnic. On Christmas Eve
everybody went to the Church of
st. John the Baptist to meet the new
Church warden. the Commander of
the Division, comrade Tanatar. Com
rade Tanatar, handsome Caucasian,
dressed in leather jacket and boots,
was selling candles and passing
around the plate.
The entire population was busy
killing poultry, exchanging shirts for
butter, baking pies with beetroot in
stead OF sugar. A week before the
holidays. all drug stores in the city
were cleaned empty.
Frost and Storm.
In the deadstill brick house of Doc
tor Veralsky, on the Sibirna Mount