The daily worker. [volume] (Chicago, Ill.) 1924-1958, 1927-10-22
By ALEX JACKINSON.

BOSTON is like an old man trying to
look young by dressing loudly. On
selected streets stand tall, beautiful
buildings, towering over narrow side
walks. Here shop windows are richly
decorated. One sees behind the pol
ished window panes as he walks
along, displays of irridescently col
ored cravats, dazzling bits of jewelry,
alligator shoes, Japanese urns, walls
of perfume, fashionable fur coats,
hand carved pieces of bric-a-brac, and
bronze statues encased in luxurious
gowns.
Well-dressed pedestrians gaze into
these windows and walk away with
satisfied feeling. The exhibits instill
them with factuous pride They see
in it symbols of WEALTH! ST.
.PREMACY! The things Boston is an
animated example of. But elsewhere
one cannot escape an odor of decay
which bites into your nostrils. The
city is old. In parts it fairly stag
gers under the weight of it's senility.
The Common is park, lying in the
heart of the city. In the center stands
stone monument from which free
concerts are dispensed in the summer
time. The heavy roof rests on twelve
large pillars, around them, placed in
circle are long, implanted park
benches. Here the unemployed read
thru the want lads" each morning.
Some of the loungers are down and
out buns, accosting passers-by for a
hand-out. Aristocratic Bostonians only
use this park for short cuts. And, it
is mostly men who sit here. The fe-
males are too sophisticated. They
walk with heads up, as tho they alone
are burdened with the upkeep of the
New England snobbishness, one hears
so much about.
West of the park runs Beacon
Street. The State House, a long,
grey colored building with gilt
edged dome, visible for blocks faces
this street. The surrounding vicinity
is the residential quarters of the elite
The sidewalks on which the variously
shaped dwellings, stand are red
bricked and clean to a fault. The
houses, all different in architecture,
stand with their spotless exterior,
their curtained windows and iron
door-knockers as a constant reminder
of the lust which killed Sacco and
Vanzetti. Shady elm trees line the
curbstones, which are covered by
golden leaves, brought down by the
autumn winds.
Eastward, the Common is bounded
by fremont Street. An Adde'S
cent Broadway yearning for maturity.
Or this street, more than on any
ether, promenade THE CHOSEN.
Continuous streams of them gush up
and down the sidewalks. Traffic is
always at full! tide here. Electric
signs, jutting over roof tops guide
them onward. Women, whose pow
dered faces would crack should they
dare smile, whizz by. Men shift their
eyes. They survey their swaying
huttocks and tell their wives they adj
mire their hats. Frauds, all of them,
these biological limitations Of people.
1t is too bad that something violent
doesn't happen to disturb their calm
poise, their assurance Of security. |
their spectacular equilibrium.
On busy corner of this street |
stands frankie. frankie is a news
boy. A large bundle Of papers are
lying on the ground directly under
his feet Another bunch is in his
hand. He holds several others for
ready distribution. He is a young
kid. His fingers are long and al
ready tobacco-stained. His feet are
covered by cheap golf stockings