Evening star., 1934-04-29
BY JULIAN r. MEADE.

about them save what some
one else had told him. 1t irritated
me, and I have bought notebook
and resolved to record the occasional
thoughts have while laboring in this
finishing room, which is but one of
many departments in one of the
largest textile establishments in the
world. There are nearly 5000 per-
sons employed in the mill; ! am but
one of 500 workers in one vast room
where machines create a steady, deaf
ening noise all day long. where hu-
man hands move up and down, back
and forth, performing the same tasks
over and over again.
If I write down my impressions
will be doing something original in
the eyes of my co-workers. Some peo-
pie here cannot write their names or
read the comic strips of the news
papers. When copies Of the code
of Fair Competition for the Cotton
Textile Industry" were distributed one
Friday with the pay envelopes, al
most every one was stumped by the
very first phrase of the impressive
document: ITO effectuate the policy
of title Of the national industrial
recovery act
Deemed Crazy by Workers.
I should be considered crazy indeed
II they knew I was going to keep a
notebook. am deemed crazy enough
already. In the opinion of most of
my fellow-laborers everything is
against me. I live on the right side
of the river, do not belong to mill
workers family. am college grad
uate, intend to get better job as
soon as can. They are satisfied and
I am not. Once I made $50 week
and am not content with my pres
ent wages of $13 a week, which I
have received since an apprenticeship
of six weeks, when began working
for s720 a week, five days week,
from $50 am. until 3 pm.
Because of such differences In out
look it is difficult to convince these
laborers that my nose is not so high
In the air as they have believed.
They persist in thinking it joke for
me to wear working clothes, little
sign Of false democracy. They put
me in the class with an executives
nephew who Is wearing overalls now,
but who, they say, will be p'moted
even If he didn't never learn a durn
thing or hit lick of work"
Try as I may, 1 cannot forget how
mean some were when I first got this
job-any more than can forget how
patient and helpful others were. The
Job seems simple to me now. I order
rolls OF cloth from the bleachery to
be yarded by groups Of men at ma
chimes, torn into pillowcase size by
girls who stand on their feet all day
and tear, tear, tear; then I carry the
goods to men who straighten it, then
in case lots to girls who label, seam,
hem, inspect, press, fold and pack
the finished product upon which you
lay your heads at night and in the
dark hours of morning when we are
working by electric light long before
you have risen.
Job Easy and Monot0nous.
It is easy now, easy and monotonous
and capable of being done by any
one who has fairly sound body
and a little more than a moron's
mentality. But, like any other routine.
It had to be learned And, oh, what
satisfaction some Of these people
found in giving me wrong directions,
in making the path difficult. What
delight it gave certain ones if ap-
peared dumb to the overseers!
At first I did not have adequate
physical strength for my job. l had
to push or pull heavy trucks of cloth
up and down long aisle, in and out
of endless machines. The first week
I would become dizzy and the veins
of my arms and legs became SO en-
larged I thought they would burst. I
had to go to the mill physician and
have my legs tightly bandaged to
stop the blood from throbbing where
it had formed in painful clots. I
would go home too nervous and tired
to sleep. Many nights I went to bed
and never lost consciousness till the
alarm rang at Sis, my regular hour
of rising.
One day, after a sleepless night,
had to move an especially heavy
truck. The wheels were locked. Only
by straining myself tortuously could
1 even bulge it. Several idle men,
one of them a giant of a fellow.
stood by and laughed. Finally two
girls and puny little man put down
their work and came to the rescue.
Oh, 1t was a great life when start
&c in the mills last Fall. But, as I
said before, it has become easier. The
day does not seem so eternal. I should
be glad I don't have to work 10 hours
or more a day, as these people did
before N r. A. But even with shorter
hours we creep through the mill gates
in the morning like dilatory school
boys going to meet an unpleasant
teacher, and we rush out of the same
gates in the afternoon as though
joyful world were awaiting us, in
which not one precious moment Of
time could be lost When you see
Mrs. Beulah Smith rushing out of the
sewing room in the afternoon you
might not think she was widow who
was going home to cook and wash for
five children, that she worked as hard
at home as she does at the mill, that
she has always been working since she
started carrying lunch baskets at the
age Of Z.
Not All Work Hard.
Once inside the great buildings that
line the river bank, what of the hours
of bondage? You have been told that
people in cotton mills slave madly
every minute they are in the COM
pany's employ. That depends. If
the worker is paid by piecework-
according to how much he does-he is
likely to work faster and produce
much If he is paid by the hour
he is likely to be seen loafing in the
lavatory Cthe favorite place in the
mill for time-killing and clock-watch-
tng) or strolling about aimlessly.
Every one stops to eat and drink.
As early as 7:30 in the morning
workers make a first advance upon
their lunches, and everything from
cold fried eggs to cucumber pickles
appear. At just that hour one morn
ing, when darkness had not even be-
gun to break, saw three girls devour
a sweet potato pie-a favorite delicacy
OF NEUTRALITY-SUSPICIOUS. slices with