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Sinclair, Upton, 1878-1968

"They Call Me Carpenter"


To this mood of tolerance I had brought myself, when I saw a white
robe come round the corner, arm in arm with a frock coat of black
broadcloth. Also there came Everett, looking still more ghastly, his
nose and lip having become purple, and in places green. Also there
was Korwsky, and two other men; Moneta, a young Mexican cigarmaker
out of work, and a man named Hamby, who had turned up on the
previous evening, introducing himself as a pacifist who had been
arrested and beaten up during the war. Somehow he did not conform to
my idea of a pacifist, being a solid and rather stoutish fellow,
with nothing of the idealist about him. But Carpenter took him, as
he took everybody, without question or suspicion.

XLV

I joined the group, and made clear to them, as tactfully as I could,
that they were not wanted inside. Comrade Abell threw up his hands.
"Oh, those labor skates!" he cried. "Those miserable, cowardly,
grafting politicians! Thinking about nothing but keeping themselves
respectable, and holding on to their fat, comfortable salaries!"
"Vell, vat you expect?" cried Korwsky.


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