Incidentally he denounced America as "Mobland," and called it a
country governed by madmen.
I took the paper to him, thinking to teach him a little worldly
prudence. Said I: "You remember, I tried to keep out that stuff
about mobs--"
He took the sheet from my hands and looked at the headlines. I saw
his nostrils dilate, and his eyes flash. "Mobs? This paper is a mob!
It is the worst of your mobs!" And it fell to the floor, and he put
his foot on the flaring print.
Said he: "You talk about mobs--listen to this." Then, to one of the
group about him: "Tell how they mobbed you!" The man thus addressed,
a little Russian tailor named Korwsky, narrated in his halting
English that he was the secretary of the tailors' union, and they
had a strike, and a few days ago their offices had been raided at
night, the door "jimmed" open and the desk rifled of all the papers
and records. Evidently it had been done by the bosses or their
agents, for nothing had been taken but papers which would be of use
against the strike.
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