The daily worker. [volume] (Chicago, Ill.) 1924-1958, 1934-02-13

Sunday-Sleep late, go to Mass, read
The papers, a swell chicken Or corn
beef and cabbage dinner, and after
that a round of neighborly visits, with
.rgumentS on baseball, boxing, or
3olitics for Joe, and gossip for the
ladies'.
NOW they seemed to Joe like things
~ he had dreamed, all these good
times he'd had. They were all he
had to live on now, memories. AS
he played around with them, half
ssleep under the sun in Chelsea Park,
hey took on grandiose proportions.
In his day dreams, it wasn't Cornelia
who had run after him; the days be-
fore their marriage became magni-
fed into beautiful courtShip on his
part, hodge-podge of all the TO
mantle movies he'd seen. Those hot
times on Saturday nights-"Geez, -
Joe would murmur in his haIf-sleep,
"but we was wild in them days" The
speakeasy rounds became, in his phan-
tastes, herculean blow-outs.
When the first blow came, It wasn't
so tough. It came six months after
Joe and Cornelia were married-a day
knocked off the working week.
Il guess we got a little something
Socked away, hey CONNER" Joe said
when he brought her the bad news.
Pretty soon, another days 1ay-off
Sure glad we got sonethin' put by
for rainy day." said Joe. I'VE better
start goir' easy" Cornella said. "And
lay off the booze joints, joe she
added. Cornena hated to say that.
When a man works like a horse all
week, he's got to look forward t.
something.
Then the first thing you know there
was another notice down at the pier.
Two days a week, it said.
Holy t1laokerel. Two days a week,
thirteen bucks.
1t was awful news to be bringing
home to CorneIa. She was begin
ming to look faded nowadays, max
ing ends meet. There was a little
Joe home now.
There was silence for little while
after Joe broke the news. Joe lust
sat at the little table, with its OIL
cloth that was rubbing off in big
spots. You'd better be eating some
thin joe" said Cornela gently.
I'VE amt got but q hundred dol
lars left in the bank" said Joe. God
forgive me for Sayn' it, but I'm afraid
your mothers out a luck from now
on"
Poor CorneHal That was the hard
est blow to face, It meant the Cath
Ole Home for the old woman.
No chicken on Sundays now!
Chicken! Every trip to the butchers
meant bargaining, begging. 1t brought
back an irritable Cornelia, hating
everybody except Joe and Little Joe.
1t hurt the pride Of a man like Joe
more than words can tell, the things
they had to do to save money. Good
mornin' Mrs. Regan, and hoW's him
SELF l thought we'd be after stoppin'
IN for a little neighborly visit" They
always timed the visit SO that they
arrived just before dinner. Poor
SOAiiClid IlOW lIItdUle IL IIlaQe QeI,
even toward Joe. 1t wasn't his fault,
she knew, but who else could she take
it out on?
0NE day Joe found himself without
" any days work week at all.
Cornelia's irritab'eness became
worse. Joe didn't blame her. "a
strappin' man like me, layin' around
the house all day"
After the futile shape-up each
morning, Joe took to staying away
from the house until nightfall. Hang
ing around the street corner and the
park, a hell Of a thing for an able
man to be doing instead Of dock
but it was better than in
ceSsant pickering with CorneIia. Com
ing home in the evening was hard
enough. 1t made you swallow hard
% hear Little Joe squalling. "a hell
II father you have, poor kid. Can't
sVpn give VQfY tho ftiy,o,C x,o,, o,,cy,+