The daily worker. [volume] (Chicago, Ill.) 1924-1958, 1926-09-18
JENNIE.

to be done. If you don't do them
things you have TO let them wait till
next Sunday, and next Sunday 1t might
rain. OF course, If you've got plenty
of things to wear, it don't matter.
She? Well, she couldn't get along
unless she washed. There was no
other time. Monday? Monday night,
fraction night. Tuesday night union
meeting. Wednesday night, that course
economics. Thursday night, shop com
mittee. Friday night, that course
again. Saturday night, il there wasn't
mass meeting, was the only night for
a movie or lecture, show or a con-
cert. You had to draw breath one
night In the week.
No, Sunday was the only washday,
cleanup day, day for chores darning,
mending; making the lean pay enve-
lope look like it did a fat lot more
for you than it really did.
For Jennie Sunday had become a
little less drudge day because Sam
called. Nearly a year of Sundays
brought him. He never failed. But
this Sunday Jennie was nervous, excit-
ed. VIII he come? Jennie's married
sister, with whom she lived, had gone
off for the afternoon, taking her two
children with her and leaving Jennie
alone. Guess her sister understood.
Jennie hustled. Doubling, hoping,
pushing the hours. She dropped
things, did things wrong, undid. and
did things over again. Thinking, did
he mean it? Wasn't he really coming
any moref
Sam must have meant 1t, for he
didn't come. Then Jennie sat down
and cried. Like a baby. Just as If
she'd never been steeled in struggle.
All evening. thru tears, she hoped.
Maybe he'll come yet. Then she fell
away and slept.
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday,
Thursday, Friday, Saturday.
A week to drain you.
She tried to write during lunch time.
Made several starts. 1t didn't work.
She was too tagged to think. How
her back ached! Jennie wondered
why she stuck in the industry anyway.
Once she left 1t. Took 9 job az an
Italian girl-serVed Chianti in an
Italian restaurant. 1t was a nice job,
too. But you were so much by your
self. Cut of. You know how it is:
Where . lot of workers work together
In one place you don't feel lonely.
You get organized. You feel alive.
The worlds full of workers-men,
women, boys. girls.
Just the same, Jennie now wished
that she'd kept on being an Italian
girl, serving Chianti in an Italian res
taurant. She'd have had time to write
Sam.
Well, she must wait till Sunday
Out there on Long Island, with Yetta,
she'll have the whole afternoon. Free
lin quiet, restful place.
I|tRAZY to have jumped all over hin
~ and him so good. He didn't see al
she saw, but he was good as gold. And
she'd been so different with him in
everything else. Mother, sweetheart
teacher-so patient! She had misgiv
ings-letting such long time go by
making him think maybe she didn't
care. But, never mind, he'll under
stand.
He might have taken to younger
prettier faces, more carefree girls
He wasn't yet thirty; she well past
But he never let her remember 1t
because he had serious mind. Had
she been sweet and twenty, not IL
the thoughtful thirties, maybe HI
wouldn't have cared at all for her
Years don't matter between two who
belong together. And they belonged
And didn't Sam see it first. She wal
crazy to have called namesl SO mean
over nothingl