The daily worker. [volume] (Chicago, Ill.) 1924-1958, 1927-10-22
A Boston COnnOner

afclded ever Knockers. His shirt is
unbuttoned at the neck. His sharp,
clean cut features are visible behind
his dirty face.
Every few minutes he gulps down
{. lump of saliva and cries in shrill
voice Boston Herald Post .
7vening papers"
frankie is experienced in the ways
of commerce. When person who
seems to be in a hurry gives him a
dollar bill. he short-changes him.
His favorite means is to count out
the correct change, then allow a coin
to remain between his fingers as he
hands it over. After each success,
he places the easy money in a sep
arate pocket and grins.
frankie seldom smiles, he just
grins. It's less complicated His
face is animated by a crouch. It
never seems to leave him. He is nurs-
ing grudge against society, for
frankie is becoming conscious Of
many things. He doesn't tell anybody
but it's Sacco and Vanzetti he's I'M
consciously mourning for. They were
his friends, tho frankie never saw
them. They are legend, heritage
to him. Something they left over
lives in his mind. frankie doesn't
know what it is yet, but he will learn
soon. He sees it thru mist, but
soon he will see clearly.
frankie is Of the young, Boston
belongs to the old. He will never
forget Sacco and Vanzetti. He can't.
Boston cid.
A picture of crowds. Crowds
picketing the State House. Crowds
moving in the streets rotate in his
mind. That was month ago. frankie
was there too selling papers. He re-
members the crowds and the head
lines "Sacco and Vanzetti to get re-
prieve," "Sacco and Vanzetti in death
house." then "Sacco and Vanzetti
dead"
1t was fight, and the spirit of it
gripped frankie. Now he wonders
Why Sacco and Vanzetti are forgot
ten. He thinks they are, and it hurts
himi
frankie lives on Corning Street, in
house facing the roof of a garage
and a stretch of railroad tracks.
There are entire blocks of such build
ings. Clay flower pots rest on win
Cow sills and almost every house has
a Furnished Room" sign hung out.
The rooms are old, dingy, i'll smell
ing. One toilet and one bath serve
six or seven families. A putrescent
odor is in the air. The shutters are
painted green.
In these rooms men walk about in
their underwear, smoke corn cob
pipes, and allow their ashes to fall
nnmolested to the floor. At times
they also worry about paying the
rent.
Here children urinate in cutters,
and babies cry Justify. Here too
buxom housewives cook in a single
porcelain pot, and raise large fam
'ACo. DOoJOH Q6illSS Lille GAlSI6UCG Oh
these streets, but they are there,
many of them, and the tragedy of it
is that these very inhabitants brag
with greater gusto Of Anglo-Saxon
superiority; and all the viciousness
that it embodies.
frankie comes to these streets each
night. He walks home thru the sec
ton where the other half live One
avenue divides them. He is conscious
of the contrast. Before it was merely
a difference. Today it is challenge.
Frankie's mother is janitress of the
house they live in. Her body is mis-
shapen after bearing six children. Two
were miscarriages. She is prematurely
old, and speaks with an Irish accent.
His father is an emaciated man of
sixty. When he was able to work he
was a window cleaner. A married
sister occupies one of the three rooms