The daily worker. [volume] (Chicago, Ill.) 1924-1958, 1926-07-10

uS RhSSidH UOHldu III iHouSliys
church. And the man Bolshevik swore
horribly to the vicar when he, unsuc-
cessfully, tried to visit them once.
Then they asked her not to call
them "Sir" and Madam" they said
it took their appetite away. You see
what queer people they were!
Then they read the strangest papers,
none of those which Alice's former
employers had been accustomed to
read. And they offered to lend them
to Alice and nearly always pointed
out to her the cartoons, which even
respectful, un-class-conscious Alice
had to admit were funny.
The woman Bolshevik did not lounge
on sofa in the drawing room reading
a novel, and giving small tea parties
, to elegantly-dressed women friends.
No, her typewriter tapped from morn
ing to night, and her room, which
could hardly be compared with the
drawing rooms of Alice's former mis-
tresses,' was full of papers and books,
and pictures pinned on to the walls.
And these pictures gave Alice the
creeps, until they were explained to
her, after which she began to think
about one or two things, but still in
the foggy, halting, frightened way of
those who have for years been ex-
plotted by the bourgeoisie.
There were constant meetings to
which came few or many men and
women of all ages and types Some of
these people stayed to meals. Jolly
people they were, too, tho queer. They
helped Alice to lay the table and to
clear the things away, they talked to
her when she brought in the food and
once good-looking young man said
to her:
well, comrade, what are the domes-
tic workers thinking about the coming
striker"
Alice thought that was queer ques-
ton. He seemed to think that she
would know what the other people en-.
gagged in work like hers would be
thinking. And whatever did he mean
about strike? Were the workmen
going to make trouble again?
Still, the young man had such beau
tiful curly black hair and asked his
question in such a serious, friendly
way that it was no wonder Alice failed
to recognize him as a Bolshevik, tho,
as she confided to her stolid British
husband later, he did look a bit like
a foreigner and probably that was
what made him seem different.
1t was while Alice was dallying with
the word "comrade" which the hand
some young foreigner" had used, that
the General Strike broke out.
T IFE at the Bolsheviks became more
IL frenzied than ever. Machines called
duplicators arrived; typewriters
chirped in nearly every part OF the
house. People, all OF them called
Comrades" arrived at all times of the
day and night, argued together, held
meetings and departed carrying KNAPP
sacks on their shoulders, full of funny
little daily papers, called the Work
ers' Bulletin" Some of the Com
rades" slept at the Bolshevik house
and most days work went on from 9
a. m. right round the clock till 8 or
even a a. m. Alice was fairly engulfed
in the class struggle now.
The strike went on. Daily and
nightly Johnson attended his strike
committee, even forgetting to take
adequate time off for the meals which
he had hitherto treated with such de-
ference, saying 10 Alice, in those far.
away pre-strike days:
"At my age, my dear, It IL OF the
greatest importance what one eats and
absolutely essential for mo 10 have
perfect quiet during those OF my msais
that I can get in my own hcIIHs."
Now he asked for q sandwich or
/ 80 he