Comrades: A Story of Social Adventure in CaliforniaDixon, Thomas, Jr.
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Comrades: A Story of Social Adventure in California
Dixon, Thomas, Jr.
California -- Fiction; Socialism -- Fiction
"I'll come again to-morrow, dearie, when the new doctor has seen you,"
Barbara answered, as she pressed her hand good-bye.
When they reached the street, Norman asked:
"You knew her before she fell into evil ways?"
"Yes," Barbara answered, with feeling. "She was just a little child of
joy and sunlight. She couldn't endure the darkness. She loved flowers
and music, beauty and love. She hated drudgery and poverty. She tried
to work, and gave up in despair. A man came into her life at a
critical moment and she broke with the world. She's been sending all
the money she could make the past two years to her mother and four
little kids. Her father was killed at work in a mine for a great
corporation."
"She can't live, can she?" Norman asked.
"Of course not. I only did this to humour her. She has developed acute
consumption--she may not live a month."
Barbara paused.
"I must leave you now--I'm very tired, and I must sleep a while before
I attend the meeting to-night. It has been a great strain on me
to-day, this trip with you. How do you like our boasted civilization?
Do you think it perfect? Are you satisfied with a system which drives
hundreds of thousands of such girls into a life of shame? Are you
content with a system which produces three million paupers in a land
flowing with milk and honey? Do you like a system which drives
thousands to the madness of drink and suicide every year?"
"And to think," responded Norman, dreamily, "that for the past two
years of my manhood I've been writing verses and playing football!
Great God!"
"Then from to-day we are comrades in the cause of humanity?" she asked
tenderly, extending her hand. His own clasped hers with firm grasp.
"Comrades!"
CHAPTER V
THE ISLAND OF VENTURA
Norman had never been a boy to do things by halves. In college, when
he went in for football, he made it the one supreme end of life--and
won. He incidentally managed to pull through a course in mining
engineering. He knew mining by instinct and inheritance from his
father. It came easy.
When he had a three months' vacation from football he took up the
modelling of a dredge for mining gold from the sands of the beaches.
The thing had never been perfected, but after three months' experiment
and study he was just on the point of making the castings for the
machinery when the football season opened and he dropped such trifling
matters for the more serious work of training his men for a successful
season. He won the championship and forgot the dredge.
Into the new movement of Socialism he naturally threw his whole
personality without reservation. Its daring programme thrilled him.
The audacity of its leaders and their refusal to discuss anything less
than the salvation of man appealed to every instinct of his nature.
He devoured every book on the subject he could find, and in his
new-found enthusiasm for humanity accepted as the inspired voice of
God their wildest visions of social regeneration.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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