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Sinclair, Upton, 1878-1968

"They Call Me Carpenter"

The Red
Prophet was dead and buried!
IX
I took up Carpenter's lunch at one o'clock, and discovered, to my
dismay, that he had not tasted his breakfast. I ventured to speak to
him; but he sat on a chair, gazing ahead of him and paying no
attention to me, so I left him alone. At six o'clock in the evening
I took up his dinner, and discovered that he had not touched either
breakfast or lunch; but still he had nothing to say, so I took back
the dinner, and went downstairs, and said to T-S: "We've got
ourselves in for a hunger strike!"
Needless to say, under the circumstances we did not very heartily
enjoy our own dinner. And T-S, neglecting his important business,
stayed around; getting up out of one chair and walking nowhere, and
then sitting down in another chair. I did the same, and after we had
exchanged chairs a dozen times--it being then about eight o'clock in
the evening--I said: "By the way, hadn't you better call up the
morning papers and persuade them to be decent." So T-S seated
himself at the telephone, and asked for the managing editor of the
Western City "Times," and I sat and listened to the conversation.


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