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Sinclair, Upton, 1878-1968

"They Call Me Carpenter"

I knew what he was there
for--to size up this new disturber Of the city's peace, and perhaps
to give the police their orders.
It was not my wish to overhear the conversation, but it worked out
that way, partly because it is hard not to overhear T-S, and partly
because I stopped in surprise at the first words: "Good Gawd, Mr.
Vesterly, vy should I vant to give money to strikers? Dat's nuttin'
but fool newspaper talk. I vent to see de man, because Mary Magna
told me he vas a vunderful type, and I said I'd pay him a tousand
dollars on de contract. You know vot de newspapers do vit such
tings!"
"Then the man isn't a friend of yours?" said the other.
"My Gawd, do I make friends vit every feller vot I hire because he
looks like a character part?"
At this point there came up Rankin, one of T-S's directors. "Hello!"
said he. "I thought I'd come to hear your friend the prophet."
"Friend?" said T-S. "Who told you he's a friend o' mine?"
"Why, the papers said--"
"Vell, de papers 're nutty!"
And then came one of the strikers who had been in the
soup-kitchen--a fresh young fellow, proud to know a great man.


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