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
"Miss Barbara," he began, in plaintive tones, "you was always good to
me in the other world, but since we've got here even you don't seem
the same. Everybody's hard and cold. They hain't got no sympathy here
for a poor man. In the other world I missed my callin'--I was born for
the ministry. I come here to serve the Lord. And now they make me work
so hard I ain't even got time to pray. I ask for a licence to preach
the gospel. Just give me a chance. They've put me to feedin' hogs and
tendin' ter calves. I ain't fit for such work. I want to call sinners
to repentance, not swine to their swill. I tell ye I've been buncoed.
It ain't a square deal. I left the poorhouse to come with you to
heaven and, by gum, I've landed in the workhouse----"
"And ef yer don't shet up and git back ter yer work," Tom thundered,
"you'll land in the hospital--you hear me!"
"I ain't er talkin' to you, you cussin, swearin', ungodly son of the
devil," the old man answered.
"Come, come, John," Norman interrupted, as he held Tom back. "We can't
grant your request. We are not ready to undertake religious work yet."
"Well, God knows ye need it!" John muttered, as the crowd pushed him
away.
At the door Catherine greeted him as he passed out, whispered
encouraging words, and sent him back to his tasks more cheerful. She
had taken her stand thus each day; and, while Wolf was busy quietly
mingling with the men outside getting the facts as to the progress of
each department, the tall graceful woman of soft voice and madonna
face was fast becoming the friend and sympathizer of each discontented
worker. She had now assumed the task of peacemaker after each harsh
decision had been rendered, and did her work with rare skill--a skill
which promised big results in the dawning State of Ventura.
Uncle Bob Worth, an old Negro, bowed low before the judges. He had
been a slave of Norman's grandfather in North Carolina and had joined
the colony out of admiration for the young leader.
"Marse Norman," he solemnly began.
"Don't call me 'master,' Bob," Norman interrupted. "Remember that we
are all comrades here."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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