The daily worker. [volume] (Chicago, Ill.) 1924-1958, 1927-08-06
Translated from the Russian of P. ROmanOv
by VERA and VIOLET MTTKOVSKY

long and impatiently awaited.
"Anna Rengardt will perform her new number,
Instruction.
All sounds were hushed In second came the
sound of music faint, half heard though coming
through thick gloomy walls The curtain went up
quickly and noiselessy. The scenery represented
prison. the of thick grey stone wall with
splashes of whitewash heap of straw on the floor
and a small square window with thick iron bars.
In the other corner stood an altar, covered with red
fustian and on it wooden and the New
Testament.
All eyes were fixed on the open prison with stone
steps leading upward What would appear there?
The music sounded an abrupt chord like the break
ing string of violin and at the time down the
stone steps, as if thrown down by cruel push from
the jailer, rolled frail body.
A shudder passed through the audience then all
was still
1t is She Her tiny body, crouched into ball, lay
heplessy on the stone floor Then she slowly raised
her head and, standing her knees, with
preston of throbbng pain from the blow, gazed with
innocent, childish fright at the walls at the straw
the floor, the barred window. Her eyes showed
of that exaggerated horror and suffering usually
affected the stage. Her face the face of
child whose tears at some sorrow have not yet dried
but whose attention is already distracted by
surroundings. The surroundings distressing: a
heap of straw and barred window.
She understood. The sudden realization of her
position evidently perces her brain She jumps up,
throws herself against the door, hangs its heavy
knob, beats against it, bites her hands in frenzy
of despair.
For her the audience does not exist. For her
there is no crowd of people sitting in the hall at
her back She is alone before that door which has
closed forever, which nothing open against
whose heavy wood she only beat her head and
bite her hands to dull the pain of consciousness Of
being buried alive
There is only one thought among those hundreds
of people sitting in the hall: to throw themselves
against that door. Not only the door but the wall
would go down before hundreds of strong work
mems shoulders
Suddenly something flashed across the face of the
small suffering woman, her glance fell on the red
altar and the To her that red cloth is the
symbol of her blood which will be split perhaps to-
day, perhaps tomorrow. Her wde-open eyes are full
of silent wordless horror then the horror changes
into an intense pious humility With arms STRETCHED
forward with tears streaming down her pale cheeks,
she craws to the altar her knees. One feels
such horror and pity for her that each member Of
the audience repeats to himself that all this is not
true, it is only play.
Suddenly she raises her head as though struck by
a thought, looks intently at the altar, at the
cross, rises, approaches with the curiosity of a
newly Weakened consciousness examines the things,
touches them and passes her hand over her eyes.
In the hall all is still; there is only the hushed
breathing of hundred breasts. Then she listens
her have caught some sound outside. She shud-
ders. With the cross in her hand, she goes to the
door The sounds draw nearer, she clearly hear
the revolutionary hymn and the running of many
hundred feet.
"Victory!"
Her eyes flash from the door to the window a
change passes over her face 1t is lighted by new
hope and the entire audience unconsciously reflects
shat smile of joy and triumph.
She is longer small, miserable slave. She
to have Strengthened out, grown her eyes have
become large and radiant. She suddenly breaks the
CROSS in half spurns it with her feet tears the red
covering off the altar and carrying it like a VIC
torous banner rushes toward the prison door which
swings open to triumphant shouts
In the hall they shout, rattle their chairs wave to
her, and she once more the SMALL helpless woman,
out the stage and, stretching out her arms
in child-like manner, bows and smiles touched
and grateful smile
The performance is over In the dressing room
she stands before the mirror rubbing off the make
up with a bit of cotton, closes her little suitcase
and, receiving her ten rubles leaves the hall. Ar
irving at home, she unlocks her room In it is a
large oldfashioned bed, two portraits of ancestors
generals uniforms near the wall taha with