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Sinclair, Upton, 1878-1968

"They Call Me Carpenter"

Then I parted from
the rest, and walked until I met a taxi and drove to my rooms.
I felt desolate and forlorn. Nothing in my old life had any interest
for me. This was the afternoon when I usually went to the Athletic
Club to box; but now I found myself wondering, what would Carpenter
say to such imitation fighting? I decided I would stay by myself for
a while, and take a walk and think things over. I had been
dissatisfied with my life for a long time; the glamor had begun to
wear off the excitement of youth, and I had begun to suspect that my
life was idle and vain. Now I knew that it was: and also I knew that
the world was a place of torment and woe.
I returned late in the afternoon, and a few minutes afterwards my
telephone rang, and I discovered that somebody else was dissatisfied
with life.
"Hello, Billy," said the voice of T-S. "I see dat feller Carpenter
is in jail. Vy don't you bail him out?"
"He won't let me," I said.
"Vell, maybe it might be a good ting to leave him in jail a veek,
till dis Brigade convention gits over.


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