The daily worker. [volume] (Chicago, Ill.) 1924-1958, 1929-12-11
By MYRA PAGE.
(Co1ltinued.)

"The things what's wrong with me-" Katy
explained one day after one of her coughing
spells. 81 went to work whin wuz too little.
TIL mill stunted my growth. wuZ eight year
whin Pa took stroke, n there wuz five of us
kids n me tn oldest. / wuz only in school two
weeks, when l had to quit n go to tn mill to
work. All we had wuz what l could earn less
than two dollars. I cried, n Ma N Pa cried,
n all tn littP uns cried, but what war thar to
do? 1t warnt tn work so much, tho there
no limit to hours thin, n tn lint n dampness
wuz somethin' awful. But it wuz, | wanted
larnn tn worse way in tn world"
"But how could you live on two dollars a
week." I asked.
"We had to. By dom without. In two year
my brother come into tn mill too, so thin it
wuz easier. But l navah got back to school,"
But you can read"
"Sure I larned myself how. But | doan
know how to write. Looks like somethin' wrong,
with kids wana larn, n doan git tn chance?"
"You bet there is, Katy"
"There wuz man thru here las winter n
he tole us in secret about country, Rushia,
what all kids git real chance at schooling.
Schools are free, like here, and tn government
sees that every kid has Clothes and vittles n
a place to live while he's agoin' to school q. :.
Hush up honey" she turned to take up her
squalling baby and feed it a little warmed
tobacco juice As she raised herself once more
and pushed her hair out of her eyes behind
her ears her face took on one of those queer,
far-seeing looks.
"What's that thar Rushia? Why doan we hev
it thata way here?"
This Monday afternoon I found Katy fran
tic
i.
baby's off of tn bowles. It's from these stinks
n flies, n my baby what's all l got sinkin'
lower n lower. My Gawd, what m 1 gona
do?"
The baby lay in a little home made cradle
on the porch 1t was covered with sores which
the flies tried to reach thru the mosquito net
ting. At each feeble whimper Katy moaned.
Hush honey, thar now, honey" and waved
away the flies.
By evening Katys baby dead.
A few evenings later we were sitting on
Jm-and-S allys front porch Annie, Frank and
|. Marry and Sam had come over with their
brood, and friendly but determined religious
controversy waging between them. Jim
and Sally Methodsts, and Mary and Sam,
Holynests, and the argument seemed to be over
the origin of SIM Innumerabe kids crawled
over and under US as we talked and chewed
and spit tobacco juice into the blue night.
Jim had been a Georgia farmer, Poor White,
farming five acres. He and Sally and the littl'
uns had worked from sun to sun in the cotton
patches, trying to pay off the mortgage. Then
the boll-weevil, one year, and 'banner cotton
crop" the next drove him off the land and set
him to wandering from one cotton mill to the
next And the funny thing was, Jim did not
blame the bankers who took his land, nor the
oh IL /, l,,A
chose dam niggers." Here he, an Anglo
Saxon, white man, had to turn mill hand while
some of those colored farmers had held on to
their small plots of ground.
Tom was studying mechanics in the evenings,
after work, so as to be able as he told me, "to
larn my boys trade n give 'em chance.
All tn young uns of us poor people, all they
got to look forward to is goin' into tn mill or
on tn farm. I'm gona make it different fer
my boys"
Sam and Mary had no plans for their kids,
did most of the mill hands with whom
talked. When asked, "Do you want your kids
to go in the mills ?" the answer was usually
"Naw" stating that the life was too hard and
they'd like to see their kids get an education
and make something of themselves. "But what
else" they invariably added, "kin they be-"
Somehow the discussion of Sin had led Jim
to a denunciation of the last war.
"Yep, it wuz rich mans war N a poor
mans fight, sure enuf," Sam echoed.
"Wahl," Jim went on, chars another war
acomn-between tn rich n tn poor. rich
man in Atlanta sed that war tn only
war he afeart. N it was a-comin''"
EDO you think he is right?"
"Ya, reckon 500
"Sure, workin' people can't go on like
this forever"
"Do you want to see it? How'll it turn out ?"
'Wahl, figger it this way. Gods gona be
on tn side of tn poor because it's US what sup
ports his work. TIL rich may give tn money,
but it's us poor what goes N does His work"
Sally rocked appreciation. "Ya it's us poor'll
win"
"How come you got to bring God into it,"
Frank asked. well win because we get
thousands to their one, n if we all stick to-
gether they can't run dam mill, or train or
ship or mine. Well jes' take 'em over n run
em for ourselves"
"By gorry" Sam exclaimed, "How come you
evan thought it out plain, Frank"
"Jim, has there ever been union here?"
All looked at one another, then Mary spoke
up crispy. "I'll say thar war; Sam here
wuz among tn first to jine N TIL las to give
in"
The story followed, one l heard often on
the hill, since they were sure was not spying