The Daily Worker Newspaper, April 21, 1927, Page 6

ar: A Society to Advance : the Reputation of White Men PrN eye oR: aATURNIENY With the Young Worker eed we be get ms moe An Autostrop Young Worker | where. j wants to start such a society, and as | the reason why she wants to do s0, she tells us the following: She and another white woman, a friend of hers, went out for a bit of exercise in.a small rowboat at New York. She had rowed many times out | into the Sound as far or farther than | she went this time, and experienced | no difficulty. But this time, when she | started to row back to port, there was | such a strong outward movement of the tide that, rowing with all her| waning strength, she could make no| headway back toward land, but was slowly drifting out further and fur- ther to sea. Ignored. As sunset was coming on, she be-| gan to get afraid. Her friend could} not row. “I began to wave and call | for help to some of the motor boats | and fine yachts that passed near us,” | she said, “but they gave no help and | seemed to ignore us contemptuously. | We were getting desperate. Finally, I tied a white garment to one of the) oars and waved it as high as I could, | shouting for help. A power-driven) loaded barge that was further from | us than any of the yachts of the | wealthy, finally seemed to sense our | predicament and stopped. | Rescued By “Negroes.” | “Two men got off the barge into a} little dory and rowed out to us. They | were two colored men. “I threw them the chain from our} boat and they began to row back to- ward the barge. But with all their might they were unable to make any headway against the water. |men.” White Gentlemen Pass. “Getting frightened again, and see- | ing some grand white men passing | near in a power boat, I got up and| began to call to them for help. Then | one of the colored men who was strug- gling to save us, waved his hand cooly and said something which, when I thought of the tragic truth of it, cut me to the quick. He said, with a mix- ture of bitterness and calm contempt: | ‘Aw, sit down, Miss, and save your | breath. No use calling those guys: | when they see two white women “with two niggers,” they'll simply say: | “they ought to drown”. | “That the white world could have impressed upon a braye and generous | colored man of that type such an opinion of the savageness of white | men, hurt my feelings.” | Despises Old Ideal. | Nevertheless, this woman knew that this black man spoke truly, and she sat quietly and waited for an anxious hour until they fought their way to the barge and saved the woman. And the more she reflected on that “opin- | ion” expressed so coldly by that black | man, the more she felt the need of “improving the reputation of white | She was humiliated to think that| when two white women were seen with two colored men, even in such a predicament, white people would not put an honorable, instead of a dis- honorable, construction on the situa- ion; and she was still more humiliated to think that, even if they did put a dishonorable construction on it, | A view at the start of South Africa's greatest diamond rush, at the Grasfontein farm in the Lichten- burg district, More than 25,000 contestants rushed to file claims, the more enterprising diamond com- panies hiring professional runners, SACCO AND VANZETTI When Edith Cavell faced the fire, And bullets pierced her nurse’s robe, Those shots rang out around the globe, And waked whole continents to ire. Yet she was guilty; as a spy, All manmade laws said she should die. The Englishman who did his bit, The French who fought for human right, The German crippled in the fight, What do they think of it? Good God! Is this the Justice of our time, With a crime added on to a crime? A CERTAIN IVORY TOWER (The Antique Lord to his Seneschal) I had forgotten that the sun could set On other places than this tower of mine, I had forgotten that the days could let | Their subtle sands slip elsewhere, or that wine} Could drop from other lips as superfine. ~*~ | I had forgotten that the night could bring The shadows groping in a lesser tower, That in the hurly-burly death could sing As pagan and as dark, and evilly lower Where poor men lie and cry their mortal hour. I had forgotten that ever marching feet | | Could shock the far horizon of my heart. Letter Of Young Worker In Auto- strop Bulletin, Issued By Young Workers League, District 2. Dear Friends: I read your leaflet that was dis- tributed a few weeks ago and I am very glad that at last an attempt has been made to organize our plant. The conditions here are very bad. We work long hours, receiving low wages, unsanitary conditions still exist, though the boss has actually begun to improve them after the distribu- tion of your leaflet. As I read the leaflet, I saw that you were acquainted with all the prob- lems of the plant, but you failed to mention one—and that is about the Auto Strop Club, This club was formed by the bosses under the mask of being a beneficial society for the workers. pelled to pay fifty cents a month dues, in return for which we get less than nothing. We never have any meet- ings in which we can discuss the prob- lems which face us in the plant. A few of the bosses and a representa- tive from every district (floor), who are usually either foremen or assist- ant foremen, are the rulers of this club, and of course the club works in the interests of the bosses. If we, the workers of this plant, want to get anything that is beneficial for us workers we must Yun this club by ourselves and not by the bosses or their agents. if I‘hope, since you have taken the initiative, you will continue to explain to us the importance of cur sticking together and organizing. A WORKER FROM THE SHOP. Cleveland Young Workers Protest Against Imperialist Wars. CLEVELAND, Ohio, April 20.— | When the militarists of this country, |in league with the capitalists and the capitalist government, are working over-time to fill their quotas for the Citizens Military Training Camps, the Young Workers Communist League calls upon all young workers to’ stand up and fight for their own class, and to refuse to accept the dictates. of Wall Street to prepare for war. The Citizens Military Training Camps are a training ground for mur- derers and strike-breakers, and the local American Legion is loud in its censure of the Young Workers’ Com- The Young Workers League at Work. Students Debate Communism with Young Workers, By WM. SCHNEIDERMAN. LOS ANGELES, Calif.—The Young Workers (Communist) League and the Forum Debating Society of the University of California at L. A,, will hold a debate on the subject: “Re- solved, That the Communist theory is practical and desirable.” It will be held Sunday night, May 22nd, at the Music Arts Hall, 233 §. Broadway, under the joint auspices of the Young Workers League and the Civil Liberties Union. The speakers representing the university debaters “Finally, as there were two seats | white men could be so savage as to u N will. ba sOgebete: Diack. iaunin of oarlocks in our boat and only one | refuse to rescue the lives of four fel- Where’er they’ve heard of Rights of Man, Open the gates, O Seneschal, we’ll meet preerraed: for telling the truth Newal Eason, a Negro; ‘iat wari ed in theirs, one of the men suggested | low Co eee rt eee The gaucho roaming o’er the plain, The love of men with love, we'll set apart fists alate re At sores Jacobson. The speakers for the y ¢ in r boat, jor attit yf Bec r raci | A ; ion to cam- ; that they climb into our boat, so that|or attitude on any social or racia Our vintage and our carnival. Now, start! tuiea tee tis CAE eas Maciel Young Workers League, tentatively both of them could do the rowing in| question. By AMY T spit on your pages of Holy Writ; I laugh at your sacrosanct laws, I am the Law and the Word. Chilled with a new and terrible negation More potent than cau I sneer at your treasures and palaces; I am the Gift and the Giver. WOMAN:,TO CAPITALISM WAYNE. Idrons of orthodox hell, The Russian moujik, peon of Spain, The fisherman in far Japan, They pray their Gods, their obols give That these two innocent men When the purse proud and money mad Must seek protection for their By victimizing those that toil And dare to speak, as these men had, Tis time to change; ’tis time, To maim the hand that wields the rod. Oh, all who love fair freedom’s name, Let the drums may live. spoil by God! LINES TO LENIN You arose like a shape hewn of granite Out of the welter of torture, blood and betrayal, Unfurling our banner to the winds of the world, Bearing our challenge and defiance To tyrants, hypocrites, liars. beat! | —MARTIN FEINSTEIN. By AMY WAYNE, with League leaflets, and the local papers are still resounding with the anger of the American Legion au- thorities. On Thursday, April 22, there will be a mass demonstration on the Public Square, at which prominent speakers will take up the imperialist situation |of today, and show the correct line | that the young workers must follow. The meeting will begin at 7:00 P. M., and all workers are urged to come and take part in the demonstra- tion against war. selected, will be William Schneider- man and Minnie Karasick. The stu- dents, fearing the “bias’ of the audi- ence in favor of Communism, as they expressed it, have requested that no decision be rendered. It promises to attract wide-spread interest, and will be utilized by the Young Workers League in connection with their mem- bership drive, SPORT The Bugle-Busting Business. First of all, we are com- | ‘ Let’s raise our voices thru the land, |Spring Ball of Young Workers’ Fight bugs with No longer cajoled nor commanded To show we do not share the shame | We awaken, we arise, we answer | League. 4 a@.memory six Life and Love I give freely as I will, Of Massachusetts’ bloody hand. | To your thundering battle call Plans have been completed for the! months long will recall how surprised Mick- ey Walker was | to win the mid- dlewright cham pionship In voices that will echo ‘spring ball of the Williamsburg sec. Down through time. |tion of the Young Workers’ League | jat the Royal Palace, 16 Manhattan! |Ave., Brooklyn, on Saturday evening. There will be a musical entertain-| Caring naught for coarse priestly threats. I am the Bond and its Maker. Chattel no longer, I am untrammelled By your ancient hypocrisies and lies; Around the world resounds the cry, “Vanzetti and Sacco MUST NOT DIE,” —JOHN MARTIN HAMILL. | Oh, that you could hear us marching, marching— The steady tramp of millions of unfaltering feet, | Lf By RAY CARSON. OE walked into the tiny flat and closed the door softly. How was he going to tell Min why he was home so early? He paused in the doorway, No one was' home. Min) must run across the hall to one of the neighbors. There was the pot) ried. How they had planned the rosy future and when Bennie came— weren’t they proud? Now—there were seven to care for. Min was old and wrinkled with worry and work. They didn’t have much time for love or dreams now. Their whole conversation consisted of money— bills—debts. But damn it, it wasn’t as a strike. Bennie, feeling his fath- er's eyes upon him, looked up from his paper and feeling that he ought to start conversation said contempt- uously, “I heard that the mill work- ers have gone on strike today.” Joe started with surprise. The contempt and hatred in his son’s voice hurt him. So that was the way he felt A GREATER AMERICAN TRAGEDY speed-up and piece work system, tell{the state militia uniform an Amer- him to work by those machines all day and see women and children caught in the machines and carried out crippled for life, tell him to work at $15 or $20 a week and then tell | him to have the bosses come along with another wage-cut, the third this | year and then ask him if he'd give a ican Legion button and an American | flag in his lapel. Joe’s lips trembled, | his fists clenched. Damn these bosses, | they weren’t satisfied with crushing the workers but even turned their} very children against them. “God damn them,” shouted Joe in his heart, “we'll make you pay for this.” Line O’type or Two Mr. Cash of the United States Patriotic Society is the kind of a guy who knows how to cash in on his patriotism. Ramsey MacDonald contemplates writing his autobiography. A sugges- ted title: “The story of a Traitor.” Bedtime Stories. Red Army fighting revolt in South Russia and Ukraine.—N. Y. Times | square Boxing Corporation, is peeved- | Headline. | pasted the Irish that night. The de- | cision was so raw it raised a terrific ‘howl. The odor of sure-thing gamblers was detected. A return bout was promised. Now it’s forgotten and | Walker goes to England in July to | get a meager one hundred thousand jfer a bout involving his curious | “championship.” Meanwhile the Ne- | gro boxer, who is also a church deacon can go back to preaching. | Tex Rickard, officially the Madison > : That you could see the glory light our faces, |ment and a number of exceptional | ae te Dauntless, free, I fare forth in new power. i liyitch, mighty giant, faithful Comrade, |featutes, it is announced. val, one night in I am the Revolt and its Renewer. Read The Daily Worker Every Day Of bitter, but triumphant, endless days. | perms Tiger lowers sure | boiling on the stove. Potatoes! The’ his fault. He wanted to work. Hang] about the strikers! Bennie continued,|damn about paralyzing the mills— | ‘ ‘ ‘ | asell because a rival promoter and | third time this week. Well, potatoes | it, why didn’t she say something. “Darn fools, don’t know when they | that’s what we intend to do—ask him ; | the New York Boxing Commission are | were cheap. The broom stood) “Min”, he paused, “Min, I can’t/are lucky. Mr. Watson, up at the|if he'd ‘give a damn about the city; Six o’clock in the morning. Joe | butting into his boxing trust. Rickard — propped up against a chair as if it) had just been used, Joe heard foot- help it. scab would you? I had to go when You wouldn’t want me to) Y. M. C. A. told us fellows that those strikers are a bunch of foreigners losing thousands of dollars. Do the stockholders care that we are starv- drew his jacket closer as the rain continued to come down in torrents. |has a good number of champs and {near champs under contract and in- sists that if these babies will scrap, it steps in the hall. Min! His heart) the others did.” and they are lazy and always are|ing throughout the year? God, to|He walked hurridly towards the mill € ies beat hard. Could he tell her? The! ee dissatisfied. He says they won’t get|hear you talking this way! where he was to picket. He reached must be for him. This is not like in door opened. Sammy rushed in.| “Oh, what's the use of your ex-|what they want this time, tho, ‘cause Se the gates. He passed with the rest the old days. If a bird wanted to “Hello, pop,” he exclaimed in sur-| prise, “home so early?” But not waiting for a reply he grabbed a) piece of bread and headed for the | door, “Say, Pop, tell Ma I'll be home} late tonight ‘cause I’m working over- time—I’m staying to sell papers after euses? Go ahead and strike—but where’s the money for the rent com- ing from tomorrow? Where are we going to get our bread? Our credit is gone now. Sammy needs a sweat- er—Jenny needs some shoes—Bennie doesn’ give us very much now that there’s a bunch of scabs already on their way down here. Gee, we'll show these strikers they'll either work and be thankful for it, or else get out and slave. Who.do they think they are, Rockefeller?” i sa “T don’t care, Pop, you have abso- lutely no pride in your country— You won't Americanize, that’s the trouble. You think that you are still in oppressed Europe. Wake up, you are in free America, and Mr. Watson says that any man who's ambitious of the picketers against the roped-in area in which police stood on guard. The rain poured down upon the mob of strikers. A truck load of scabs arrived safely guarded by police. | Sneers and crys of “Down with the/ traitors,” rang out of the mob. The ;scrap—he just did. Even in the best saloons. Now, when a boxer wants to sock another on the bugle, he gete # manager, a couple of lawyers, a movie contract and boxes under the super- vision of a trust. And they call it a sport. Yea, verily brother bugs, the that big show tonight.” And he was|he has joined the Y. M. C. A. I’ve| “What do you know about the con-| and industrious can succeed in Amer-|crowd drew in close. The police gentle art of scrambling ears ain't gone. got exactly $3 now. Go ahead andj ditions in the mills?” Joe asked/ica, Doggone it, ] only hope none of|bent in. The mob grew tense. The what she used to be! * * bg strike—stick up for your rights ask | quietly. |the gang hear that my father’s a|crowd drew in closer. The police Joe sank down despondently in the chair, 12-year-old Sammy on the streets every night selling papers, 16- year-old Jennie working in the de- partment store for 12 dollars a week. Bennie working—all of them working to buy food for Min and the four little ones at home, and he—what was he doing? At last, when he had got- Mten a job— Again, footsteps in the for more pay and meanwhile don’t get any—do what you please but | what are we going to do?” Min be- came hysterical. Her voice goes higher and higher. Little Paul and the baby, attracted by the noise came into the kitchen. Joe rose impatient- ly “Oh, keep still, you don’t know what you are saying. You needn't think I’m enjoying this any more than “Mr. Watson told us all about it.” “You tell your Mr. Watson not to talk so much about the mills and the | foreigners from behind his desk at the Y. M. C. A. Why don’t you ask your Pa about the condition in the mills?” Joe and Bennie turned around quickly. Min was standing in the doorway wip*wg a dish, and speaking quietly. Why don’t you } striker, that’s all I can say,” and with that he grabbed his cap and went out. * * . The weeks that followed were bit- ter ones. Joe wandered about like a ghost. Up at the strikers’ head- quarters it was easy enough to keep up his courage. There was always work to be done and the reports were tried to hold them back, but couldn't. The voices grew louder. Crys of anger, hunger, pain, and cold mixed with the commands of the police in the wet and stifling air. Joe feit himself carried along with the mob. His long-felt hatred arose to the top. He yelled with the loudest and pulled with the strongest. Suddenly, a tock whirled through the air, whether it These Chinese are the most un-| grateful people. -We give them civil- ees and they throw it back in our face, Admiral Latimer, supreme neutral- izer of Nacaragua, creates another How to Catch a Sub, | | | By Ay CATCHUP, The whole iden is te put hall. Min came in carrying the baby| you are. These kids are mine as|find out what the strikers want from favorable. Relief funds were receiv-|came from the strikers aimed at the 2 and holding Paul by the hand. She/ much as yours and it hurts me just| your Pa and not from that white|ed from all over the country. The | police or from the scabs aimed at the geal heated Laden be “A peat od susan ae ane 5 geo put the baby on the floor giving it|as it does you. But, Gosh, Min, I’d|livered Watson?” Bennie gazed | fight was becoming a hard one. Pick-| strikers, no one knew. It flew that this onieneto "haa in lteri i a ace “haltcohaker, Orbe a spool of thread to play with. She|rather starve than scab. Doggone it,| astounded at his father “What—are|ets were ¢lubbed by the police. The} through the air and hit one of the motives, Oh per iter tb gd when your preparations = 7 came into the dingy kitchen and/|we’ll manage somehow. We've got|—you striking too?” ranks of the wounded swelled. But|strikers on the forehead. The rock 4 mp — = Ba ip f stopped in surprise, “What's the to.” foreigners.’ ” the courage of the crowds would not acted as a releaser of energy. The eats, where {tt works matter, Joe? Are you sick?” asia a | “Yes, Ben, 1 am. I am one of your}be broken. At home, however, away|mob grew wild. They surged on. ae M. C. A. Campaign Slogan. what language it 4 ; “No,” came roughly from the depth} “Don’t worry, you'll starve alright.| ‘darn fools’ and one of your ‘lazy|from. the crowd, away from the| Amid clubs and fists, they moved on Give the boy a chance,” which ages “ the ys i of the newspaper. There is nothing else you can do, Rie My © cheers and song, it was difficult.]as one great body through the rain, | ™e@ns: “Well, then what is the matter?” But why make the kids starve with | “Yes,” added Min, “We're all strik- Min's silence and attempted pluck seemed harder to bear than her The police and scabs were pushed against the wall. 1, More Chance a, To give him dope, Min asked impatiently. Joe cleared| you? God, what a life,” she added,|ers. Its going to be awfully hard. A shrill whistle— his throat, ‘“‘We went out on strike | bitterly turning away. | We'll starve and we'll quarrel and I’ll,! anger. The kids were complaining|and out of nowhere appeared the b. To make him immune from this afternoon.” A pause. Min’s| Joe went into the other room. Any- | yell—but we're going to stick it out.|of the cold. Bennie spent his entire | militia—500 strong. The crowd grew| Uionism, \ hand tightened on the chair she was| thing but her tears., He threw him-|No one’s going to scab on my ac-| time at the Y. M. C. A. now and came | furious. Fighting like wild animals, c. To make him a better wage a leaning against. A—went black be-| self savagely down on the bed. Why |ount. home only to sleep. Joe never saw| protecting women and childrene-| Slave. en fore her eyes. Visions of bills danced|couldn’t she understand? But he’d; Bennie sat dumbfounded, “Pop,|him any more. When he passed him |,stumbling ever the fallen. Another d. To make him a more loyal Young Worker Editorial Com- before her. Grocery bills, butcher bills, rent bills! For five months rather stand anything than go back to work before the*strike was settled. Joe had been out of work. At least, three weeks ago, he had gotten a job at the factory for $20 a week. And now—strike! How she had come to hate and fear that word! It meant starvation, cold and bills unpaid. * * * Joe glanced uneasily at his wife, Why didn’t she say something? Poor Min, he knew it was hard for her, It would not take so very long. It was the rush season at the’ mills. The bosses needed their men. God, they would win that strike—but until they did? He heard Min preparing sup- per. How much longer before there wouldn’t be any supper to prepare? How much longer before the kids would be crying for food? After supper the little ones in bed, you're crazy. Mr, Watson says it’s a crime to strike. Only ignorant foreigners or crazy bolsheviks ever strike, Why, you wouldn’t strike and paralyze our mills? You wouldn’t make our city lose thousands of dol- lars just because you want to strike.” “Because I want to strike? God, they’re making us strike,” Joe shout- ed. “Tell your Mr. Watson to learn before he talks. "Tell him’ to raise a family of: seven’ kids-tell him first in the street, Bennie would ignore him, * * * Joe slackened his pace as he cam‘ in sight of his home. Tomorrow war to be a hard day. He had been as- signed ‘to early 6 o'clock picket anc there rumors of the militia being called out. Doggone them, they couldn’t frighten the strikers that way.‘ They would stick this fight out to the bitter end. whistle and a shot tore through vir—another and still another. Men, women, and children fell to the rround, becoming stumbling blocks for the others. Joe was fighting blindly, yelling, cursing, wiping the blood from his mouth. He found him- self being pushed to the outskirts. He stumbled over a man’s body—fell — heard the report of a gun—-and felt something warm ooze out of his heart. He turned ‘face up—and saw son of Jesus, JOIN OUR RANKS YOUNG WORKER mittee, 33 First Street, York, Ney. et, New Leagy tt what could he do? It was a hell| Min in the kitchen, Joe looked proud-|to feel. the hurt .of, seeing them all} Joe stopped in this tracks. He|—-a state militia uniform, an Amer- Pars for her. How well he re-|ly across at Bennie, he'd understand. | freeze and starve—tell him to work| started across the street., Was he}|ican Legion button and an American = ns anttiidmainame X. membered how pretty and After all, it took a man to understand | in those mills 9 and 10 hours a day,|dreaming? No, |there was Benriie|flag in the lapel—it was his son National Office: 1118 West Washington Boulevard, Chicago, TM. she had been when they hag mar-|a man’s sense of honor in such things with two other /fellows dressed in| “Bennie.” New York Office: ~ fea ne tell him to work under a) damn * pe 108 East 14th Street, New York City, NY, .