the friendly road(友好的路)-第25章
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the jobs； so that wages slowly went down and at the same time the
machines were speeded up。 It seems that many of these 〃black people〃
were single men or vigorous young married people with only themselves
to support； while the old American workers were men with families and
little homes to pay for； and plenty of old grandfathers and mothers； to say
nothing of babies； depending upon them。
〃There wasn't a living for a decent family left；〃 he said。
So they struckand he told me in his dull monotone of the long
bitterness of that strike； the empty cupboards； the approach of winter with
no coal for the stoves and no warm clothing for the children。 He told me
that many of the old workers began to leave the town （some bound for the
larger cities； some for the Far West）。
〃But；〃 said he with a sudden outburst of emotion； 〃I couldn't leave。 I
had the woman and the children！〃
And presently the strike collapsed； and the workers rushed helter
skelter back to the mills to get their old jobs。 〃Begging like whipped
dogs；〃 he said bitterly。
Many of them found their places taken by the eager 〃black people；〃
and many had to go to work at lower wages in poorer placespunished for
the fight they had made。
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But he got along somehow； he said〃the woman was a good
manager〃 until one day he had the misfortune to get his hand caught in
the machinery。 It was a place which should have been protected with
guards； but was not。 He was laid up for several weeks； and the company；
claiming that the accident was due to his own stupidity and carelessness；
refused even to pay his wages while he was idle。 Well； the family had to
live somehow； and the woman and the daughter〃she was a little thing；〃
he said； 〃and frail〃the woman and the daughter went into the mill。 But
even with this new source of income they began to fall behind。 Money
which should have gone toward making the last payments on their home
（already long delayed by the strike） had now to go to the doctor and the
grocer。
〃We had to live；〃 said Bill Hahn。
Again and again he used this same phrase； 〃We had to live！〃 as a sort
of bedrock explanation for all the woes of life。
After a time； with one finger gone and a frightfully scarred handhe
held it up for me to seehe went back into the mill。
〃But it kept getting worse and worse；〃 said he； 〃and finally I couldn't
stand it any longer。〃
He and a group of friends got together secretly and tried to organize a
union； tried to get the workmen together to improve their own condition；
but in some way （〃they had spies everywhere；〃 he said） the manager
learned of the attempt and one morning when he reported at the mill he
was handed a slip asking him to call for his wages； that his help was no
longer required。
〃I'd been with that one company for twenty years and four months；〃 he
said bitterly； 〃I'd helped in my small way to build it up； make it a big
concern payin' 28 per cent。 dividends every year； I'd given part of my right
hand in doin' itand they threw me out like an old shoe。〃
He said he would have pulled up and gone away； but he still had the
little home and the garden； and his wife and daughter were still at work； so
he hung on grimly； trying to get some other job。 〃But what good is a man
for any other sort of work；〃 he said； 〃when he has been trained to the mills
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for thirty…two years！〃
It was not very long after that when the 〃great strike〃 beganindeed； it
grew out of the organization which he had tried to launchedand Bill
Hahn threw himself into it with all his strength。 He was one of the leaders。
I shall not attempt to repeat here his description of the bitter struggle； the
coming of the soldiery； the street riots； the long lists of arrests （〃some；〃
said he； 〃got into jail on purpose； so that they could at least have enough to
eat！〃）； the late meetings of strikers； the wild turmoil and excitement。
Of all this he told me； and then he stopped suddenly； and after a long
pause he said in a low voice：
〃Comrade； did ye ever see your wife and your sickly daughter and
your kids sufferin' for bread to eat？〃
He paused again with a hard； dry sob in his voice。
〃Did ye ever see that？〃
〃No；〃 said I； very humbly； 〃I have never seen anything like that。〃
He turned on me suddenly； and I shall never forget the look on his face；
nor the blaze in his eyes：
〃Then what can you know about working…man？〃
What could I answer？
A moment passed and then he said； as if a little remorseful at having
turned thus on me：
〃Comrade； I tell you； the iron entered my soulthem days。〃
It seems that the leaders of the strike were mostly old employees like
Bill Hahn； and the company had conceived the idea that if these men could
be eliminated the organization would collapse； and the strikers be forced
back to work。 One day Bill Hahn found that proceedings had been started
to turn him out of his home； upon which he had not been able to keep up
his payments； and at the same time the merchant； of whom he had been a
respected customer for years； refused to give him any further credit。
〃But we lived somehow；〃 he said； 〃we lived and we fought。〃
It was then that he began to see clearly what it all meant。 He said he
made a great discovery： that the 〃black people〃 against whom they had
struck in 1894 were not to blame！
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〃I tell you；〃 said he； 〃we found when we got started that them black
peoplewe used to call 'em dagoeswere just workin' people like usand
in hell with us。 They were good soldiers； them Eyetalians and Poles and
Syrians； they fought with us to the end。〃
I shall not soon forget the intensely dramatic but perfectly simple way
in which he told me how he came； as he said； 〃to see the true light。〃
Holding up his maimed right hand （that trembled a little）； he pointed one
finger upward。
〃I seen the big hand in the sky；〃 he said； 〃I seen it as clear as daylight。〃
He said he saw at last what Socialism meant。 One day he went home
from a strikers' meetingone of the last； for the men were worn out with
their long struggle。 It was a bitter cold day； and he was completely
discouraged。 When he reached his own street he saw a pile of household
goods on the sidewalk in front of his home。 He saw his wife there
wringing her hands and crying。 He said he could not take a step further；
but sat down on a neighbour's porch and looked and looked。 〃It was
curious；〃 he said； 〃but the only thing I could see or think about was our
old family clock which they had stuck on top of the pile； half tipped over。
It looked odd and I wanted to set it up straight。 It was the clock we bought
when we were married； and we'd had it about twenty years on the mantel
in the livin'…room。 It was a good clock；〃 he said。
He paused and then smiled a little。
〃I never have figured it out why I should have been able to think of
nothing but that clock；〃 he said； 〃but so it was。〃
When he got home； he found his frail daughter just coming out of the
empty house； 〃coughing as though she was dyin'。〃 Something； he said；
seemed to stop inside him。 Those were his words： 〃Something seemed to
stop inside 'o me。〃
He turned away without saying a word； walked back to strike
headquarters； borrowed a revolver from a friend； and started out along the
main road which led into the better part of the town。
〃Did you ever hear o' Robert Winter？〃 he asked。
〃No；〃 said I。
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〃Well； Robert Winter was the biggest gun of 'em all。 He owned the
mills there and the largest store and the newspaper he pretty nearly
owned the town。〃
He told me much more about Robert Winter which betrayed still a
curious sort of feudal admiration for him； and for his great place and
power； but I need not dwell on it here。 He told me how he climbed through
a hemlock hedge （for the stone gateway was guarded） and walked through
the snow toward the great house。
〃An' all the time I seemed to be seein' my daughter Margy right there
before my eyes coughing as though she was dyin'。〃
It was just nightfall and all the windows were alight。 He crept up to a
clump of bushes under a window and waited there a moment while he
drew out and cocked his revolver。 Then he slowly reached upward until
his head cleared the sill and he could look into the room。 〃A big； warm
room；〃 he described it。
〃Comrade；〃 said he； 〃I had murder in my heart that night。〃
So he stood there looking in with the revolver ready cocked in his
hand。
〃And what do you think I seen there？〃 he asked。
〃I cannot guess；〃 I said。
〃Well；〃 said Bill Hahn； 〃I seen the great Robert Winter that we had
been fighting for five long monthsand he was down on his hands and
knees on the carpethe had his little daughter on his backand he was
creepin' about with heran' she was laughin'。〃
Bill Hahn paused。
〃I had a bead on him；〃 he said； 〃but I couldn't do itI just couldn't do
it。〃
He came away all weak and trembling and cold； and； 〃Comrade；〃 he
said； 〃I was cryin' like a baby； and didn't know why。〃
The next day the strike collapsed and there was the familiar stampede
for work but Bill Hahn did not go back。 He knew it would be useless。 A
week later his frail daughter died and was buried in the paupers field。
〃She was as truly killed；〃 he said； 〃as though some one had fired a
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