Again there was a cry of “Shame! Shame!”
But the cry came from Comrade Mary, the Quaker lady,
and it was evident that she had expected a chorus,
and was disconcerted at being alone.
Young Norwood, who knew his Germans, laughed scornfully.
“Just now your government is selling bonds in
America, supposed to be for the benefit of the families
of the dead and wounded. Some of those bonds
have been taken in this city, as I happen to know.
Does anybody really believe the money will reach the
families of the dead and wounded?”
This time the Germans answered. “I belief
it!” roared Comrade Koeln. “And I!
And I!” shouted others.
“That money is staying right here in Leesville!”
proclaimed the lawyer. “It is preparing
a strike in the Empire!”
A dozen men wanted the floor at once. Schneider,
the brewer, got it, for the reason that he could outbellow
anyone else. “What does the comrade want?”
he demanded. “Is he not for the eight hour
day?”
“Has he got any of the old man Granitch’s
money?” shrilled “Wild Bill”.
“Or maybe he doesn’t know that Granitch
is spending money to get smart young lawyers to help
keep his munition slaves at work?”
Norwood, having thrown the fat into the fire, sat
down for a while and let it blaze. When the Germans
taunted him with being afraid to say what he really
meant—that the local should oppose the demand
for the eight hour day—he merely laughed
at them. He had wanted to make them show themselves
up, and he had done it. Not merely were they
willing to do the work of the Kaiser—they
were willing to take the Kaiser’s pay for doing
it!
“Take his pay?” cried “Wild Bill”.
“I’d take the devil’s pay to carry
on Socialist propaganda!”
Old Hermann Forster rose and spoke, in his gentle
sentimental voice. If it were true that the Kaiser
was paying money for such ends, he would surely find
he had bought very little. There were Socialists
in Germany, one must remember—
And then came a shrill laugh. Those tame German
Socialists! It was Comrade Claudel, a Belgian
jeweller, who spoke. Would any rabbit be afraid
of such revolutionists as them? Eating out of
the Kaiser’s hand—having their papers
distributed in the trenches for government propaganda!
Talk to a Belgian about German Socialists!
So you saw the European national lines splitting Local
Leesville in two: on the one side, the Germans
and the Austrians, the Russian Jews, the Irish and
the religious pacifists; on the other side, two English
glass-blowers, a French waiter, and several Americans
who, because of college-education or other snobbish
weakness, were suspected of tenderness for John Bull.
Between these extreme factions stood the bulk of the
membership, listening bewildered, trying to grope
their way through the labyrinth.
