The daily worker. [volume] (Chicago, Ill.) 1924-1958, 1927-03-16
TIMBERS: A Sketch

covered with reddish hair, clasped
and unclasped. He gave a squeal of
pain and fright as the removal of
timber brought one leg of Olson to
view. A leg perpendicular with the
ground, leg alone, stuck up in the
air with such infinite indifference.
leg oblivious to all the hurry and
hustle going about it for its own
sake. The foot was in a heavy,
slightly worn brown shoe; the over
alls were blue in color, and having
slipped down, due to the perpendicu-
lar position of the leg, revealed a
dirty gray sock gartered with a red
rag.
Despite the bungling of the men,
the injured man was almost entirely
cleared. His head was still covered
by huge 12x12 timber that had
rolled down the hypotenuse angle of
his body and stopped on the back of
his neck, pressing his head into the
dirt and hog-fuel. AS the timber
was removed, a glaring red stain was
visible, a stain outlined clearly by the
Nm-yellow of the timber. The
mans face was raw, smeared thickly
with clothed blood.
"For Christ's sake boys, hurry"
squealed the superintendent, "get a
stretcher or something; get him to
the hospital, the poor fellow"
The injured man, apparently, was
still alive. He breathed only with
great difficulty, a rasping gasp end
ing in a liquid gurgle. He seemed to
breathe through the pores of, his
whole body, for with each breath his
body would rise, his mouth would be
convulsed into a hideous distortion,
revealing pale gums the color of
pork, and teeth clotted with blood,
for a moment would remain rigid,
then of a sudden seeming to collapse,
it would sink into a loose mass of
quivering flesh.
A truck removed Olson, with the
superintendent standing on the run
ming board and four men steadying
the stretcher on which the inert body
lay.
"Yessir," said Old Bill, to who
ever would listen, che was standing
right here, on the wagon he was
standing. told the dam fool to get
off but, no sir, he knew better. Jesus,
haven't / worked around this god
damn mill ever since it started? 1
knew what / was talkin' about, let
me tell you"
"That reminds me-" said one of the
oilers, his face smeared brown with
oil, "you never know when you're
next. remember once in the lath
mill, when young teller got killed.
You see he had
"Sure saw him. / bet l wasn't
fifteen feet from the chute when the
timbers gave way. He tried to jump,
but the logs rolled under him and he
just dove off. Sure l seen him,
wasn't l right here"
The superintendent came back in
hurry. Fat, flabby cheeks, the
color of fatty pork, that shook as
though made of jelly as the heavy
feet were lifted and set down.
what the hell do you birds think
you're dom, anyhow? I've got a
good notion to can the whole shootin'
match of you. Come on, move on
there. One of you fellows go and
get an AK and shave the blood off
this timber,
(And always the rhythm, an I'M
ceasing regularity. The heterogen-
eous noises of the mill merged into
definite rhythm, and the sawmill,
like a huge, sleek well-fed cat sat on
its launches by the river licking its
paws. Long, cool timbers were COM
ing out of the mill with a regularity
that was in itself a rhythm, long
cool timbers saturated with water.)