The Daily Worker Newspaper, October 25, 1930, Page 4

Page Four DAILY WORKER, NEW YORK, SATURDAY, OCTOBER 25, 1930 One Hundred Per- center Becomes Red Experiences in World Ex-Service Man A Bolshevik | PDRNEEE “OFFICER HALT!” In last Saturday's issue, this ex- serviceman told of low five gen- erations in his family had fought Wars in this country, only to be | ed at the end. he world war broke out, he was drafted and sent across. He describes the poor food and crowd~ ed conditions of the enlisted men on. the transp and contrasts these with quarters and excellent food that the officers had. Then they headed for the front, crowded into box cars so thick’ that there was no place to lie down to sleep: By H. P. A. @ur diet of corned gola-fish and orchestra berries was becoming un-| bearably monotonous when a half a/ beef arrived from the states. By the time the last leg of this was} brought up from the Frenchman’s cellar where it was kept, it stunk) so and was so slimy that the cook) had to trim off an inch of it all around before making it into slum- gullion. Then we either had to eat it or go without dinner and supper fortwo days. No wonder the flu and other contagious diseases be- came epidemic-among us. Conditions Back Home. Though they tried to tell us we shduld cheerfully accept all this for the sake of our country, that the folks back home were getting fabu- lods wages (fabulous was right) we knew that not only were our people being cruelly sped up in’ the factories at no increase of wages | and being robbed by high prices, but they were also forced to subscribe | to. Liberty Bonds, and make’ con- tributions to the war chests, to the robber YMCA, Red Cross, Starva- tion Army, and the rest. Tf anyone dared to protest they were molested and even arrested and accused of being German spies. However, the dicks always tried to get them to admit that they had once read a Red leaflet so that they could be more openly convicted and persecuted along with Gene Debs, Bil Haywood, and other working € fighters. Unrest at the Front. Conditions became so bad in France that the men got to protest- ing in rather tricky phrases When the cheapest kind of sow-belly and coffee were vationed out to us, we wdndered who was eating that good bacon we had seen coming into camp, and wh was drinking that War and Since—Make By QUIRT Also, they passed around such} phrases as “I once loved this coun-| try, but if I ever get out of this war, I'll be damned if I'll ever love} another.” The men thought they were getting away with murder andthe officers did not seem to know what to do with such “de-| r ng propaganda.” Before any outfit was moved up| to the ront, numerous men were removed rom that outfit and trans-/ ferred to a labor battalion or other non-combatant unit, as “unfit” be- cause considered too radical. Soldiers Hired Out by Orficers at Compulsory Labor. Several months after the armis- tice I was transf<rred to a prison camp near St. Aigon (St. Agony, the men calied it). The boys in the tent to which I was assigned won- dered that I was sent there, al- though not court-martialed or ac- cused of anything definite. Then they told me their cases. Five young boys, who were all below draft age but had enlisted, were on guard one day when they saw their most vicious slave-tail crossing a hill about a mile away. One of the boys called halt, as loud- ly as he could, but when the man did not obey, they all fired at him, several times. When he heard the bullets whizzing close to him he ducked, then had them arrested and tried. As they had only carried out general orders to the letter, with no flaw in their procedure, and as they were unable to recognize him at that distance, they had to be ac- quitted. There had been five thousand eases similar to this in this camp through the summer, and the offi- eers had hired these men out to well-to-do wine growers to pick grapes for wine. The boys said the officers pocketed the wages paid by the French, while the government fed the men as prisoners. There was another prison camp a few kilometers farther out whege the men were still at hard labor. These men had become mutinous, so the officers had sent them here. At this time thousands of officers and non-coms, and a few privates with pull were being sent to French months and allowed special pay of $4 per day and up for this, Wounded Soldiers Served Rotten Eggs, Returning to “god’s country” in the hospital of the ship I was fed two eggs every morning for break- fast, the first eggs I had seen since being in the army. How good they looked! But, ale , how rank they tasted! Like quinine. But it was either eat them or go without breakfast for a couple of weeks Some of the men who came to talk to me said, “A lunch of us have been doing our best to = in the hospital, if only for one day, because our grub is so rotten on this tub. Any tim you can’t eat those stale eggs avy one of us trac: you our cats ‘wu ’em, and} y you to ] ot.” Then they recalled the promises lof the paytriots, “If you go over, | when you get back nothing will be |too good for you.” “And,” another | spoke up, “remember how they said, | You'll be able to get the best jobs | |in the country. I bet we'll be given less than nothing. There won’t be any jobs for us at all, with all the millions of men being demobilized and industries shutting down.” They won the bet, of course, for that is exactly the fix in which we found ourselves. When we were demobilized we the cash, so we could hitch-hike, we were refused it with the insult, “You'd probably spend drunk, and stranded, and we gotta nearest our homes. Those lived way out in the country, of course, had to spend part of their meager pay to telegraph the folks to drive in to meet them, or hire aride from the station. Get No Compensation Then I tried for four years to get compensation. I tried in three dif- ferent cities. They all passed the buck. Three different doctors of the Veterans Bureau told me my dis- ability was listed 40 per cent more. Reports came back from Washing- ton, “Not due to military service.” After a few more months of red tape and expense to prove it was due to military service, report came back, “Refused, less than 10. per cent disability.” More red tape and expense, to prove both at once. Then after six months delay again, came a report, “Not due to military ser- vice.” But I kept going after it. Four or five more of these same reports came along, alternating be- tween “Not ?»> to military service” di “Less than ten per cent dis- ability.” Finally I was sent before a spe- cial board. But it did no good. I knew a former non-com, son of a grocer, with considerably better health than mine, who got compen- sation almost at once, through this same veteran’s bureau. The govern- ment put him through the seven- year medical course at the Univer- sity of Chicago with all expenses paid, and enough compensation for him to get married on. His injury was almost identical with mine. But then, his father had influence with the big boys. Getting Ready for the Next War Well, I lived on Dad, on the farm for five years, till I got where I could do light work. Two years ago, I saw hard times coming again. So I bought an automatic, osten- sibly to celebrate Independence Day, from the capitalists or die in the attempt, when the time comes. The cases of mistreatment of pri- vates in the U. S. Army which I have told are not exceptions. There are hundreds, even thousands of other cases like them. I have seen ex-servicemen framed, jailed, denied bail, then when the evidence was found too flimsy for a conviction, the paytriot defense attorney would read and exhibit an “honorable discharge” in the court, and the newspapers headline it “Ex- serviceman is freed on a serious charge.” I have seen honorably discharged ex-servicemen fired from jobs at state instiutions, with no reason given, and others, such as Russian white-guards hired in their place good coffce. What Has Gone Before: ¢ Black Bear has sent his hench- meén—Leech, Slimy Worm, Beaver, Grpver und’ Crocodile, Vulture, Stool Pigeon—to spy and work against the RGl Bear and the oppressed animals. A Red Bear reads the call he has written to the animals. he catches thé Heywood Bruin, the Black eBar's jegter, spying through the window. ‘vhe Heywood Bruin tells of the Black Bear's plans. The Red Bear impris- onk the jester and calls the animals toja meeting in the wood. : * : Now We Go On: he braver animals came to the m@ting. By the light of the Fire- fligs they sat about. The Red Bear engered. He felt the grief of his feBows. He smiled to» the Lion: “@omrade, the tail you lost will be -fopnd.‘ You have nothing to lose but grief and a world of joy to gajn!” ‘And you, Rhino, your horn will your face again!” ‘omrade Porcupine, your needles sew the shroud of the Black ” ‘And Honey-Bees, I have caught thé Heywood Bruin, the funny y-bear. You will have your ey back!” Bear turned to Eel’s grave: Comrade Eel, the fish in the sea and the fish in the lake remem- end British universities for four in the wood: “There are those who work and build and yet Out of their labors nothing get But worriment and fear... ++«+ Therefore must we Together be In SOLIDARITY, To fight For right Against the parasite!” The Lark sang: “Arse, ye pris- oners of starvation!” The Three Bears stood on their hind legs, The Lark sang: “Arise, ye wretch- ed of the earth!” The Lion, the Rhino, the Porcup- ine stood on their hind legs. The Red Bear went on: “When the Preacher Polecat cannot slay us | with his prayers, we will then march | against the Black Bear. You, Three | Bears, did you not yield to Polecat | the Skunk when he let Black Bear steal your oatmeal by promising you pie in the sky bye-and-bye?” The Three Bears hung their heads in shame. (and at less wages of course). Evi- dently, the state considers these ‘THE MARCH OF THE RED BEAR (A STORY FOR WORKING CLASS CHILDREN) Red Bear turned to the animals! Lion lowered his head in shame: “Polecat said if I gave up my tail, Reindeer would drive me into the rainbow where the colors are so beautiful and the are sails over the world away from sorrow. Polecat say heaven told you to give up your horn to make false teeth for Black Bear that he might eat our children?” Rhino hung his head in shame. “And you, Comrade Porcupine, did not your needles slay your Com- rade Ermine to make a robe for Black Bear?” The animals cried: “O! 0! O!” “When your cry is not O! O! O! but On! On! On! we will march against Black Bear,” “There is too much O! in our hearts,” moaned the Lion. Preacher Polecat had been hiding in a tree. He now called out: “O! my lord and O! my king and O! my master Pig Pig Pig.” And like an echo a long O! O! O! came from the animals, The Red Bear jumped to the tree and slew the Skunk with one blow. He called loudly: “And you, Comrade Lion, did you not give your tail to Black Bear for ber you and in that memory place their zeal, O Comrade Eel!” a whip which to beat Comrade Rein- deer?” “Slaves, the Polecrat’s prayer takes you unaware and O! is the song of your hearts!” | simply lousy with coin. The old guy By PAUL STONE Once upon a time there was an old steel manufacturer who was loved horses. In fact he loved all dumb, helpless beasts, but horses were his pet passion, This very big-hearted old beezer lived in a small, seventy-five-room cottage away from the city, because he loved nature, too. Boy, how that Work-Tales in Slang his steel plant got the idea that 12 hours a day was too damn long to work. They made no secret of how they felt about the matter. They thought they ought to be drawing |down more dough, too. But they | didn’t see what they wanted so they | decided to ask for it. i With this in view, they picked a} |delegation to visit the old animalj lover and give him an earful be-! cause they knew he had a heart the} size of a watermelon. When the strikers arrived at their boss’ humble shack, the old boy had his beak submerged in plans for a new hotel for homeless mutts. But Then spake the chairman of the committee. “A soft-soap answer turneth not away wrath. If you don’t come gcross we're going out on strike. Comb that out of your whiskers.” “Aha,” cried the old gent. “Try- ing to take advantage of my highly publicised good nature, eh? You're al! fired, effective at once. I’m not going to be browbeaten. I know my rights.” Well, the steel workers went on strike. Things began to look tough for the old animal lover and the S.P.C.A. had to quit feeding calves’ liver to the friendless mutts because their benefactor was dishing out all his dough for scabs and gunmen to keep the strikers backed against the ropes. Then, one day, the superintendent of the plant rushed up to the old big-shot’s shack to give him ‘the being charitable, he gave the men a break and listened to them. They told him that all they craved was an eight-hour day, no work on Sundays, and five cents more per hour. were supposed to get our fare home} from camp, but when we asked for | How the Boss Loved Horses! —By BILL HERNANDEZ it getting | see you get home.” Evidently they | had to see that the railroads got| and they would only give | io’ titkets to the town| that | Disabled, if Worker or Poor Farmer | though really to gain independence | cakes on all the streets.” man loved nature. Why, it burned him to a crisp if he saw any cruel, dirty little city boys tramping the tender grass on his lawns or throw- ing sticks at his apple trees. His noble passion for overworked horses and underfed dogs won him more attention than a Daughter of the American Revolution doing a hootchie-kootchie dance on the pub- lie square at high noon. He got to stand ace-high with the outfits that make a racket of worrying over the sad fact that horses can’t- drink beer on hot days. He got writer’s cramp from making out checks to buy new horse troughs and the pap- ers published his face, He got a big kick out of it. He began to love animals more and more all the time. Why he would have become a vegetarian if he hadn't ‘liked porterhouse so much. But life ain’t all roses even for a millionaire, One day some of the workers in traitors to the Russian people more “reliable” from the state’s point of view, than ex-servicemen who have learned to see behind the govern- ment’s bluff. My parents are past seventy years old and have always been conser- vative. Yet my experiences have opened their eyes too. A few months ago they decided to drop the “$10,000 war risk insurance” ( a form of graft which the government is ped- dling). For, my parents concluded, this government will probably not last as long as they will, and then the workers will provide old age pensions for all, “just like they do in Russia.” This insurance has been “paying dividends” of seventeen bucks a year, and over half of my last check went to the reds. Do you wonder Hoover doesn’t want the ex- servicemen to get pensions! A short while ago I picked up a couple of hitch-hikers, still in their teens and from American families, on their way to a Citizen’s Military ‘raining Camp. “How’s business in Detroit?” I asked. “Absolutely nothing doing! All the factories are closing down and the Daily Worker sells like hot After we had talked training camp and war for a while, one of them said, “Well, we'd never fight for this govern™-n+ ” Evidently this vernment won’t be able to raise anything but a red army for its approaching war. What Action to Take Well, when the last war broke out, a lot of us didn’t know what to do. But in 1930, we can learn what to do by joining the Commu- nist Party and reading the Daily Worker regularly. Boy, they can tell us what to do, they are experts, they have done it! Soviet Union proves it. After reading the Daily Worker for a year and seeing what the Fishes and congress are up to again I sent in my application the day be- fore yesterday to the Communist “And you, Comrade Rhino, did not | ¥ Z. Party. By HARRY ALAN POTAMKIN but now I am humble and have no courage. I shall rid myself of O! if it be the last deed of my life.” He began at once to push O! out: ABCDEFGHIJKLMN— skipping O-PQRSTUVWX “That isn’t the way,” said the Red Bear. “O! is the link of the chain that binds us to slavery. O! O! O! overlap and in that way our chains are forged. Get rid of an O! and you get rid of a link. Get rid of two, of three, of four, of ten, and you get rid of the chain. There is one sure way to break the chain, We cannot get rid of the chain each animal by himself. We must break the chain together!” “Each day we will try to grow in courage and by that very growth we will break the chain. There is one sure way of breaking the chain and that is by winning all the animals to our side. Each day we will grow and in ten days we will be strong enough to shatter and scatter the chain and leave not even a smatter of Black Bear and Pig and their henchmen.” (The last episode in the Red “What?” he answered. “Big, strong men like you afraid to put in a real day’s work? If you’d read the papers, you’d know how hard I | | How the Men Loved the Boss! —By BILL HERNANDEZ worked at your age to double the ten million dollars my poor old father left me.” low-down, “We'll have ’em eating out of our hands in e week,” he announced. ‘Six of the organizers are in the can. And what’s more, we're throw- ing all the strikers, and their wives and their kids out of the comn3jny houses. They hav come /% work and like it Jccause i be winter any minute now. They can’t freeze. Why, they'll even be glad to take a ten per cent wage cut.” The old man was cock-eyed with glee. “I’m certainly pleased that we are going to be able to teach these subversive reds, these enemies of the nation’s welfare that they can’t bulldoze respectable business enterprise and threaten the coun- try’s prosperity by destructive strikes. This is a happy occasion for the community and for American ideals.” And to prove what a happy occa- sion it was, he immediately went to work on plans for a million dollar chain of horse troughs for the Lin- coln Highway. But the old boy was due for an awful let-down and he got it. The workers stuck to their guns through the winter and they got what they wanted. The great giver of horse troughs had to come across be- cause the dear beasties were whin- ing piteously for more corn-flakes, and production in the mills was stopped because there wasn’t a scab this side of hell who could get by those picket lines, Macaulay Publishing Company, New York, $2.00. This book, the diary of a prosti- tute and dope fiend, is a severe in- dictment of present capitalist so- ciety by one of its victims. The fact that the diary was written with no thought of publication, and that its author is almost unaware of the harsh indictment which her story presents, does not lessen the strength of the accusation. The girl, O. W., feels life has given her a raw deal, and that the dollar is almighty, but her under- standing hardly goes beyond that. Nevertheless, a reader who ynder- stands the social forces of present society can follow clearly the trail of a ruthless commercialism which stops at nothing, not even the tricking of people into becoming dope fiends, since the profits of this game are enormous. Lonely and oppressed by her life, O. W. sought comfort in writing diaries (sixteen in all), which were later discovered by a woman jour- nalist in a New York rooming house and brought together in book form. O. W., an ignorant and impulsive adolescent, is thrown upon the mer- cies of Chicago, there to shift for herself and make of life what she can. Her story is like many others. While struggling to make a meager wage cover the essentials of exist- ence, she falls a prey to the tempta- tion of pretty clothes and a good time, and is tricked by a business man who no doubt considers he is only taking what he has bought and paid for. Somehow the girl had not realized the bargain. Once more alone and without a job, she follows the line of least resistance and begins to hustle hotels, covering the most luxurious establishments where the rich idlers congregate. She learns at once that she must buy protection of hotel clerks, dicks and police O. W. starts afresh for fifteen dollars a week playing a piano in a New York music store. She finds it impossible to live on this. The first time she asks for an increase, it is refused. The second time, she is told that if she isn’t satisfied there are plenty outside waiting for her job, In the meantime she has fallen a love with a young business man who comes into the store to buy music, Her love for this man lasted throughout her life. She dis- covers he is ashamed to take her out, because of her shabby clothes. So once more she begins to hustle a few dollars on the side, to cover her expenses and get an outfit of clothes. To her lover she gives the explanation that she has received money from home. They move into a Riverside apartment, for which she pays by entertaining editors, newspaper men, theatrical manag- ers and Wall Street men during the hours when her lover is away. After some months her lover casts her aside in scorn. It is at this time that she is persuaded into taking powders to quiet her nerves which are becoming shattered and then lied and tricked into becoming a confirmed dope addict. Her sorry tale goes on from here as a weak and restless creature she is hounded by police when suffi- Bear’s story will appear next Sat- \- "The Lion wept: “ ree ") cient graft money is not forthcom- ing. Her nerves and health. are go- “No Bed of Roses”’---An Indictment of Capitalism ing to pieces. There is ao one whom she can count as friends ex- cept a dope peddler and her old unele back in the north west. Now she must hustle the cheaper hotels and receive less and less for her services. : When jailed, she is persuaded by her uncle to enter an institution in North Carolina which supposedly breaks the drug habit The old man covers the enormous cost of this |treatment. For a few weeks she responds to the new environment of outdoors, congenial surroundings and economic security. (From this and other events, it is clear that the girl is one whose imptilses are good, but whois too weak to stand up against circumstances. Her petty- bourgeois early training and out- look which continues with her to the last make her succumb too eas- ily to adversity. She lacks a certain hardihood which a woman from the working class would have shown in similar circumstances. These facts weaken the book. Yet the essentials of the picture remain.) The institution proves to be more interested in the money to be made out of patients than in curing them. Drg reaches the patients easily. So O. W. leaves the hospital with the drug habit still holding her firmly ints grasp. °" From .now on, she goes rapidly down hill, Another arrest and a long prison sentence follow. We see her at the end, emerging from the prison, a diseased, penniless and forlorn figure. As she starts off down the street a dope peddler fol- lows on her trail. Shivering, she The First Giants of Soviet 5-Year Plan The Story of Turksib, the Railroad That Broke All Records jcut throufh mountains in order to By N. DANIN i seals z | lay out the rails. Socialist competi- Esperanto Worker Correspondent, | ii.) together with modern technique LANES |has done miracles. Before the opening of the Six-| It is well known that in United teenth Congress of all-Soviet Com- | States that the greatest speed was munist Party, three largest children| reached in constructing railroads— of the Five-Year Plan began to|one and a half a mile a day. How- function—Turksib, the Stalingrad) ever the Turksib railroad was con- tractor plant, and the agricultural! structed at the speed of 2.5 miles a plant “Selmashstroj.” The comple-' day, and on some days they reached tion of these three plants was the the speed of almost 4.5 miles a day. best present of Soviet workers to| Thus the constructors of Tur' the Sixteenth Congress. Other) gave the world a new record of his- plants followed these in rapid suc-}torie achievement of the world rail- cession,—new tractor plants, an | road construction. However the pulls her coat around her and moves on to a fate which she knows awaits her, but now feels it is too late to escape, There is no doubt left in the read- er’s mind. It certainly is no bed of toses. No book could be farther from “Camille,” or the romantic tales of the primrose path written by middle class authors from the point of view not of those who must pay the price, but from the point of view of the class that profits automobile plant in Nijni Novgorod, | metal foundaries, Dneprostoj—the | largest electric power plant in Europe, ete. Thus, started the vie-| torious march of the children of the Five-Year Plan. I would like to de- | scribe to you the first three. The warm country of middle Asia. in the Soviet republics of Armenia and Turkmenia,—is the only place | in Soviet Union where cotton may | be cultivated. Of course the demand | for cotton is increasing when nev textile mills are constructed. How- ever in Mid-Asia there is lack of cultivated land, because most of it is desert. Besides, the people can- | not eat cotton and therefore have | to cultivate wheat. Therefore wheat captured the fields and cut off the expansion for | cotton. . . . How to solve this prob- lem? The only solution was to give them bread from other regions and} let the Asians cultivate only cotton. | It is easy to say that, but hard! to| fulfill it. In icy Siberia there is plenty of bread, plenty of grain, but between the two there is Kazakstan —a large waste of savage land, where the natives until this day use camels for transportation, which is a method are now thousands years old. Certainly this means of trans- portation is no good for supplying bread for middle Asia from Siberia. There was only one way out— through the savage Kazakstan there should be constructed a railroad to Siberia. Ever since 1880 there was} talk about it, but for the Czar’s gov- ernment the task was too large. On December 23, 1926, the Soviet Government decided that the Turk- estan-Siberia railroad should be con- structed inspite of everything. The plan was laid out to complete the railroad by the end of 1930. Three years passed, then a few more months and on the 28th of April, 1930, the attention of the entire Soviet Union was concentrated on the small station in Kazakstan where the two parts—the northern and eastern parts met and laid the last rails for the completion of the railroad. When the last spikes were hammered in, the telegraph! and the radio announced to the en-! tire Soviet Union:—“The Railroad | Turksib Has Been Constructed.” | The length of the “Turksib” is 1060 miles. It is the longest rail- road to be constructed during the | last few years, in the entire world. | The history of its construction is a| history of heroism of thousands of workers who constructed the rail- road under the most trying condi- tions. They had to construct a rail- road on a bare desert, they had to greatest achievement was the open- ing of the railroad 17 months earlier than the original plan and 4 months less than the revised plan. Accord- ing to the original plan the expense should have amounted to 203,000,000 rubles, but well organided labor saved 28,000,000 rubles. In the con- struction over 55,000 workers were involved. Now the Turksib is completed. The two gangs of workers—one tarted in Semipalatinsk, on the northern side, the other in Frunze, on the southern side—met on the railroad station Ajna-Bulak, whose name today is well known through- out the Soviet Union. A new page in the history of Soviet middle Asian region was opened. Now they receive the cheap Siberian bread and utilize all the vailable space for cotton. The land used for cultivation of cotton was trebled and now the Soviet tex- tile industry does not need any cot- ton from outside countries. On the vast plain of Kazakstan where before the cattle were pastur- ing, now has been constructed a canned goods factory, and large farms for cattle breeding. In a large lake, almost a sea by itself, Balkash—will soon appear the first steamships, and along its borders will appear copper mines, The mountains around Balkash are fabu- lously rich with copper Turksib starts a large construction program in the whole Kazakstan. It is push- ing forward the life of this back- ward country which until now was sleeping under the influence of the mullah (local priests). The whistle of the first train proclaimed a death struggle against the old way of living, and called the natives to new cultural life. Kaz- akstan, the country of poor shep- herds, became a@.-eountry...with .pro- gressive agriculture and itsown in- Two or three years ago the es trembled hearing about the “devil’s cart,” as they called the train. But lately they learned that the railroad is their best friend. Already during the construction of the railroad 5,000 natives learned how to read and write, and many of them are now serving on the railroad. The first train was driven by a native and on each station there was a large crowd of natives who trav- elled quite a distance just to see the first train. Now they call it—“black horse.” The opening of the Turk- sib is the first gigantic offspring of the Five-Year Plan and therefore is' received with the warmest greet- ings of the entire Soviet working cless. materially and otherwise from the institution of prostitution. Stark, bare, the prostitute’s life glares forth from this book, a monotonous sordid, soul-corroding existence. Equally stark and bare glares forth the relation of the pres- ent economic and political system to prostitution. No matter whether it is a republican, democratic, or so- called socialistic administration in the town where 0.W.’s hustle for a living, the government’s hypocriti- cal pretensions stand out. Govern- ment officials, police and courts all demand their share of the spoils from prostitution and dope peddling. The Soviet Union is the one coun- try where the government not only does not countenance and protect prostitution, but has taken vigorous economic and social measures to in- sure its disappearance. In conse- quence, prostitution has virtually disappeared from the Soviet Union. Until similar steps can be taken, under a working class government in the United States, such tragie cases as O, W. reports in “No Bed of Roses” will continue to multiply. —MYRA PAGE. WALLSTREET’S HEAVEN By QUIRT