The daily worker. [volume] (Chicago, Ill.) 1924-1958, 1933-01-21

tAht AhAAONAAb 10 a SCtkAblA
TO MAKE MY BREAD, (Macau-
lay CO.. the novel of southern
mill workers by Grace Lumpkin.
At was one of the three proletar-
ian novels to receive the Maxim
GOrky award by the Revolution
airy Writers Observation-Disclosures
Motel.
THE mill sat over them like an old
hen and clucked to her chickens
every day. In the morning she
said, "Get up, get up" In the day
she said, Eat, eat" and at night,
go home, go home" But to En-
ma, working all night, the mill said
other things. >.
WALKING before the frames in
w the night in her stocking feet
with her head tied up to keep the
lint out, Emma thought about the
mill and considered where her work
there was taking her. She thought
of all she had promised herself. Now
Granpap was up in the hills, and
Basil was in the town, maybe, be-
cause he had become educated, get
ting the things that she had
planned to get for all of them. At
first when she talked to John she
had thought more of him because
he had been lost for three days, and
less of what he said Of Granpap
and Basil. Now it came to her that
Basil had been living in town for
some time and had not come for
visit to his folks. Granpap had gone
back to the hills, but sent word that
he would come again, and he re-
membered her with two dollars. .
That Saturday afternoon she
spoke to Ora, when Ora had come
from work and they were settled
around the fire with the pleasant
settling that comes from the knowl-
edge of day and half of no mill
ahead. "Oro, I'd like to go to the
town for once. I'd like to buy hat
for church. Will We Gomez"
Go to town like this?" Ora asked.
She pointed to her big belly. The
youngest child, who had been
weaned In preparation for the next
one, stood by her knees trying to
reach up to her. stop that, "she
said to him. "Hit amt for you, any
more" She dragged him on her lap
where he had to sit perched on the
end of her knees, so that he might
not interfere with the one inside.
I'm s. tired, Emma"
''Hit'll do ye good, Ora" Emma'S
eyes had a shine to them. She had
never been to town except the time
she went to get the coat at Reckow-
it's store, and that was on side
street, almost an alley.
1.-THE washing's got to be done"
''For once hitll have to go. And
Bonnie here can care for the young
ones"
I'D like to co." Bonnie said.
CHE tried to frown and look griev-
ued; she was so healthy it was hard
for her to look sad. SSchool agreed
with her. And this was the time
when the first flush of woman
hood was creeping into her cheeks"
That is what the preacher called it,
He said, 1T is when the first flush
of womanhood is creeping into the
cheeks of your daughters that they
need mothers care most"
Take her instead Of me-" Ora
told Emma.
mo, Ora. Hill do ye good. Don't
We want Ora to get little airing,
Bonnie?"
'Yes, but sometimes / want to
go to town."
well, you'll go one day. III take
ye."
Ora always looked queer when she
was with child. She was SO lean and
tall the baby stood right out from
her. 1t was not for that reason,
though, that Ora and Emma walked
down side streets going to the bust
ness part of the town. No mill peo-
pie, even the young ones with beaus,
liked to walk on the streets where
the fine houses stood, though that
was the quickest way. There was
a feeling that the rich didn't want
the sight of poor on their streets.
Mill hands clothes didn't go well
with the fine houses, and the plea
sures of wealth.
Lets go behind Mr.. Wentworth's
place." Emma said. Hits quicker
to town and I'd like t see hit if only
from the back"
Perhaps it was meanness and
envy, but most people in the village
made fun Of those who lived on
Strut Street. Some Of the men had
got their places by hard work, but