The Daily Worker Newspaper, May 9, 1925, Page 10

: i i a er etre nn renee arent Poe e ntn n nrcremarmttencen nme rn inher nem aa ns Ri eR ‘MASTERS (Translated by Simon Felshin) “PEL, kid!” This friendly call rose above even the heart- less rumble of the railway train. Nickles’ heart went pitter-patter. He thot of all those stories that he had heard about hoboes. “Hello, kid” was what the sheriffs always. said when they wanted to lay hands on a fellow,;;,And yet even this was preferable to being beaten to death by a boss at some lumber camp. Nickles was not anxious to end up as a newpaper sensation. Then he remembered suddenly that according to reports by comrades this friendly greeting of the sheriff was usually followed by a less friendly blow on the shoulder. And so he decided to peer first, in the direction of the voice, and then he would eonsider whether to risk the rash jump from the moving freight train. “Hello, kid!”—rang out again, this time more reassuring. He looked in the direction from which the voice came. Nothing. . . He wanted to pierce the darkness. Loud, hearty laughter. And still he didn’t see anyone. “Don’t you see me? Here I am!” Nickles was right. When sheriffs do any trav- popped out of their sockets. Suddenly he caught sight of a waving hand whieh reached out from somewhere among the spokes of the wheels. “Well, that couldn’t be any sheriff’”—Nickles thot—“these gentlemen don’t care much for riding that way.” Nickles was right. When sheriffs do any trav- eling they prefer the passenger coaches. And be- sides, it did seem as if the owner of that hand among the wheels didn’t find himself so uncom- fortable in his surroundings. “Now at last can you see me?’—the owner of the hand asked. Nickles tried again craning his neck, this time with better luck. Catching sight of the owner of the voice and the hand he felt very.much ashamed that he had thot even for a moment of running away. The sight of this chap was decidedly reassuring. He was look- ing out at the world from his “comfortable” seat with a grin. By the light of a lantern which they passed, Nickles got a distinct view of him. He was reclining at ease against a cross beam, his hands clasped: about his knee. His pants were ripped in one place, revealing a bit of his naked leg. This sight in a trice restored to Nickels his old blitheness and now he in turn called out: “Hello, kid!” This, in one expression, constituted perfect solidarity, the definite sealing of the new friend- ship and served also as an introduction. “Where you headed for?”—Nickles called. “I’d like to know that myself.” “That’s where I’m going too.” And so they had immediately found a point in common: neither of them knew where he would land. “Have you got any. buttons?’—the stranger asked. This question sounded rather queer, as the owner of the voice didn’t seem to attach so much importance to whether there was any button miss- ing from his’ clothing. “What for do we want buttons?”—asked Nick- les. “So we can decide’ where to get off. Each but- ton stands for a town. ‘The last button tells us the town we get off at.” As they talked it over they both realized that the button method of choosing wouldn’t do in this thing case, because it presupposed a detailed knowledge} how I learned a trade.” tions! They crept with skilful and practiced move- ments to the edge of the car. They waited for the right moment—for a bend, as the train slowed down. Nickles gave the signal: “Careful, now!” A swing. The train immediately whirred on past them. * * * * . ND they remained behind in the night. The lights of the railroad station in the dis- tance. And along the tracks an electric light glared from far off. It was best to keep away from the light. Nor was it advisable to come too near to the station. All kinds of unreliable per- sons lurged around there: detectives, sheriffs, watchmen and such like parasites, They felt an aching all over. And so they de- cided to rest under a tree. “Oh yes, what’s your name anyway ?”—Nickles asked. “Joe, Joe Vavas”—and he added: “I’m a Hun- garian.” “Ah, Hungarian! That’s nice. I’m Greek, and my name is Gulis Nickles.” Nickles had been living in America for ten years. But to judge by his accent and his vocabu- lary, one might well say that he was not longer than two years in the country. His life? Laundry, shoe-shining, doll factory, soap making, steel mills, milk carrying, street con- struction, packing sugar . New York, Pitts- burgh, Chiéago, Cleveland, Denver . and always under a train, never knowing where he was going . - he could hardly give a proper ac- count in one time of the fantastic contents of his eventful life. Joe Vavas had come to America one year later. The last station of his life’s road was called Den- ver. He had landed in that city without a cent, and unshaven. It was in spring. At the street corners there were Mexicans in blue overalls. He also stopped at the street corner and waited for good luck. As good luck didn’t come to fetch him he decided there and then to go look for it himself. -He saun- tered thru Seventeenth street. And he really did catch sight of a sign: “For Purpose of Instruction FREE SHAVE HERE For Everybody.” This was luck too, for he could thus save fifteen cents. He went up one floor, where he politely offered his face and his head for practice. And now while he was telling his friend about all this his face became clouded as he depicted that harrowing half hour which gave him a cut-up face and a half-shorn head. The master who was giving instruction asked him if he had work. “T answered: ~ “T only came to this town a short time ago.” Thereupon he offered to teach him the trade. That would give him a chance to learn and get wages while he was learning. \ “This offer looked very good to me”—Joe con- tinued. “I didn’t have any trade. And you can’t ‘vet along without a trade. After that I found out what that school was for. And I found out it wasn’t such a bad business to open a barber school. ‘We was workin’ thirteen hours and even more. We had to clean up the place. Two weeks after that we was workin’ even in the rush hour. There was more and more learners, they come up like mushrooms. And what do you think happened? In Denver the barber’s apprentice got paid just about’as much as the boss pleased. I wanted to get away from the gang, but a friend of mine talked me out of it A trade .. . That's the , a trade. So I stuck to it. . . That’s of the various places along the road. They there-| Joe was evidently proud of that. fore had to decide on something else. As experi-} And he added: “And now I can join a union.” enced travelers they could always tell a good bit ahead when they were nearing a big station; and they decided to take leave of their conveyance at the first large station. The train rumbled. Joe was even prouder of that. « * * * GOMEWHERE below, behind the hills, the sky lit up. A purple streak glimmered. Joe discovered; full of joy, that at the break of From the locomotive came the impatient ringing | gay, just exactly as it is written in the bible, the of the bell. It rang as if the freight train were in| rooster crows and the cow lows. some way disturbed. And these creatures evoked in him a schoolboy The two decided: that’s one of the bigger sta-|mood. But Nickles pulled him out of his dreams. LS MAE Dna Fa OR a eee “The grass is wet in the morning”—he said— “it’s better I think to take a little walk” And all of a sudden it occurred to them that they ‘were hungry in the first. place; secondly, they @id not know where they really were. “T think we ought to find out first of all where we are.” | On this point there was perfect agreement, and | it was only necessary to bring about agreement as to method. One advanced the opinion that they ought to invest their capital in a mo 3 The other held that it would~be “a 6 ae automobile road. And this latter viewpoint carried. The morning poured its radiant warmth with full splendor over the landscape. The two wanderers were fresh, of good courage, and they tramped forward on the road with light heart. “Welcome to the Pikes Peak Region,” they read, and beneath, “Colorado Springs.” “The welcome &in’t for us I think, but it makes you feel good anyway’—Joe. laughed, and Nickles added : “Mostly on account of that the puzzle is nov ‘solved, and we know where we are at.” They stopped. With due respect they took off their caps and spelled together : “Co—lo—ra—do Spri—ngs.. And now they went for breakfast. * * * * II. qt was a festive morning of welcome. The splen- did June sun was an incentive to their appe- tite. But everything good has an end—and so it was impossible to eat on forever. In the street|e they looked at each other, critically. They in- spired the greatest confidence in each other. But|h as their glances glided over each other’s shabby |s clothing they began to doubt whether, while on the quest for work, this mutual confidence would be |f: communicated to the sharp-eyed boss. This doubt bothered especially Joe who wanted | ¥ to. remain at his “trade.” They counted © their money. It didn’t take Niekles long to do that; }f< his wealth amounted to three cents. Of course anyone would know that this wasn’t enuf for a suit of clothes. However, Joe’s work at the barber school had netted him $4.27. For four dollars one could get|f. even two suits if one only looked around a little. It is hard to tell exactly whether the scent of the two was so sharp or whether the second-hand clothes dealer knew where to put up his stand, bu the fact is that they found the second-hand d without any trouble. . , This store had strictly one price. The second-hand dealer succeeded in fishing out} th of his stock two suits for $3.98. (Joe certainly couldn’t let his friend go without a suit!) And after the two had changed it did seem to them that in the spick-and-span cast-off clothes of the rich) wi they made a much better impression. Joe prom-| bol ised Nickles that as soon as he got & place he would} give him a haircut. They left their old rags at} sur the dealers as a souvenir. Joe now still had| { twenty-nine cents. For, three cents the’bought a} 1 paper, the “Spring Paper.” They discovered two] fro small ads, asking for barbers. “First class” bar-| } bers. This was a good omen. figt Nickles went to Pikes Peak avenue, where there} bea was an employment agency. Before they separated} f they promised each other to meet at the Busy Cor-| ner. This is the heart of Colorado Springs. At all four corners immense posters announce: “Bus doo Corner !” was * * * * * arp WORKERS in overalJs sat around. There was} the plenty of work. It was boom time. Farm| eve workers, road builders, canal builders, dishwash-| “ ers, berry pickers were wanted—one ‘eould even} anc pick his work. But Nickles didn’t care for any of | fro: these jobs. His eyes were attracted to a ticket] “ marked : “Experienced footman wanted for refined,| 1 aristocratic family. References required.”—That| foo was something altogether new to him. What in| 1 the world was a “Footman” anyway? He thot it} Pre ‘was something like a “Food Man” or “Food| any Worker.” That seemed rather attractive, This| con ”