The daily worker. [volume] (Chicago, Ill.) 1924-1958, 1927-04-23

in" he kept repeating He would see to shat jim
mey hated to see those women from The settlcment
house bring them weekly food The mere thought
that with his earnings they could once more assume
independent means, was sufficient to eievste his
spirits. He visualized many improvements his
wages would bring about in the house N a few
weeks he hoped to be able to buy his mother an
electric iron She always dreamt Of having one
That meant great deal to Jimmey, and he felt
the pressure of his responsibility keenly
His joy at finding employment was shors-lived
For three days later the factory workers walked
out on strike for better conditions while Jimmey
together with several others remained He couldn't
understand why he should relinquish his job when
he was so anxious to work.
The strike ne told by the boss, was called
by COMMUNISTS, and he made up his mind to have
nothing to do with it. Jimmey continued working
that week, but with an entirely different feeling
Everything seemed to change His lips no longer
whstled as they did the first two days. He felt
sullen and morOse without knowing just why
Each morning when he came to work, groups
of girl strikers picketng the factory would circle
about him and ask him not to go up When he
would refuse their request by shaking bis head,
they would jeer at him by calling creature" and
"scab" as he entered the building. Then a police
man, posted nearby would chase the strikers away.
sometimes hitting them with his club 1t was then
that anger gushed to Jimmey's face He would
begin to hate the girls, but he wasn't sure per-
haps it was himself he hated more. The red-faced
policeman he also disliked He wondered why he
was there, and why all this strike trouble had to
happen.
Jimmey resented greatly being called "scab" A
precocious intuition, born out Of the working class
atmosphere he lived in, informed him that he was
doing something wrong by working - something
dreadful; but just what it was he couldn't fathom
he was afraid to tell his mother that there was a
strike in the shop fearful lest she tell him to STOP
And yet the desire to bring home pay envelope
such as the one he had just received was so great
that he gritted his teeth and determined in his own
childish way to stick it out, come what may, tho
inwardly he very much agitated and ashamed
of himself.
He hurried home in long jerly strides, his heart
papitating rapidly. His hand kept reaching to his
pocket, feeling eagerly whether the previous en-
velope was still in its proper place. The figures
eleven dollars and sixty cents doomed in contorted
shapes before his eyes. 1t was munificent sum to
him, more than he had earned before.
Reaching the drab apartment house where he
lived Jimmey up a flight of dark stairs, and
pushing open door entered the kitchen which was
narrow and iy-it ROOM It's only window faced
mud spattered wall belonging to a neighboring
tenement narrow yard separated the two houses,
where sunshine seldom penetrated When it did
it was as throwing the rays of a powerful search
light into deep chasm. A dim flame flickered
from half open gas jet, throwing faint shadow
OF light over the room which was filled on this day
with STIRLING humidity. His widowed mother stood
over a gas range dropping sliced bits of potatoes
into cooking pot.
Jimmey stepped softly to her and withdrew from
a pocket the coveted envelope which he handed to
her with an affected smile Pickering across his
lips. His mother wiped her wet hands in the folds
of her checkered apron and looked at him. quietly
receiving the extended offering. Their glances met
in silent look. She counted the bills and extracted
a quarter from the change which she handed to
Jimmey, who muttered ''Thanks, ma" and promised
not to spend it until Sunday.
After supper he donned his other suit and hur-
ried down the street. He shrunk away from his
friends who called him to join their play feeling
no inclination to do He felt above mere child
play. Jimmey considered himself worker now,
real one, he argued; punching a time card four
times day and everything, same as the others
He kept repeating worker" over and over again
as one learning language. 1t fascinated
him. If only they wouldn't call him scab when he
came to work. he could still feel happy. He sighed
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