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THE ATLANTA GEORGIAN.
FATURDAY. JT’LY 14.
JURGIS BECOMES A BEGGAR—“JUNGLE” HERO A GUEST IN A MANSION
:
*
Victim of Stockyards’ Methods Returns to
Chicago and Finds Job in Tunnel, Where
Injury Disables - Him and Sends Him Into
Streets Helpless.
Copyright, 1906, by Upton Sinclair. All right* reeerved.
1
CHAPTER XXII—(CONTINUED).
When he anrolte fhe nun waa ehlnlng
hot In his face. He aat up and
etretehed hi* arm*, and then gated at
the water gliding by. There waa a
d». p pool, aheltered and silent, below
him, and a sudden wonderful Idea
rushed upon him. He might have a
bath. The water wa* free, and he
might get Into It—all the way Into It!
It would be the flrat time that he had
been all the way Into the water «lnc*|
he left Lithuania! ■
When Jurgl* had flrat come to thel
•tock yard* he had been aa clean a*
any wofklngman could wall be. But
later on, what with alcknea* and cold
and hunger and dlecouragement, and
the filthiness of hi* work, and the
vermin In his home, he had given up
washing In winter, and In summer only
as much of him aa would go Into a
basin. He had had a shower bath In
jail, but nothing since—and now he
would have a sWIm!
The water waa warm, and he splash
ed about like a very boy In his glee.
Afterwards he sat down In the water
near the bank and proceeded to scrub
himself—soberly and methodically,
scouring every Inch of him with sand.
While he was doing It he would do It
thoroughly, and see how It felt to be
clean. Then, seeing that the sun waa
still hot, he took his clothes from the
bank and proceeded to wash them,
piece by piece. Aa the dirt and grease
went floating off down stream he
grunted with satisfaction and soused
the clothes again, venturing even to
dresm that he might get rid of the fer
tiliser.
He hung them all up, and while they
were drying he lay down In the sun and
had another long sleep. They were hot
and stiff as boards on top, and a little
damp on the under side, when he
awakened: but being hungry, he put
them on and set out again. He had
no knife, but with some labor he broke
himself a good, stout club, and, armed
with this, he marched down the road
again.
Before long he came to a big farm
house, and turned up the lane that led
to It. It wa* Just supper time, and th*
farmer was washing his hands at the
kitchen door. "Pleas*, sir," said Jurgls,
"can I have something to eat? I can
pay.” To which the farmer responded
promptly, "We don't feed tramps here.
Get out!"
Jurgls went without a word. But as
he passed round the barn he came to
a freshly plowed and harrowed field.
In which the farmer had set out some
young peach trees: and as he walked
he jerked up a row of them by the
roots, more than a hundred trees In
. all, before he reached th* ebd of the
Held. That was his answer, and It
showed his mood; from now on he was
lighting, and the man who hit him
would get all that h* gave, every
time.
Beyond the orchard Jurgls struck
through a patch of woods, and then a
Held of winter grain, and came at last
to another road. Before long he saw
another farm house, and, a* It waa
beginning to cloud over a little, he
asked here for shelter as well as food.
Seeing the farmer eyeing him dubious
ly, he added, "I'll be glad to sleep In
tho barn."
"Well. I dunno," said the other. "Do
you smoke?"
"Sometimes," |**!d Jurgls, "but I'll
do It out of doors.” When the man
had assented, he Inquired, "How much
will It cost me? I haven’t very much
money."
"I reckon about 20 cents for sup
per,” replied the farmer. "I won'.tl
charge ye for the barn."
So Jurgls went In,-and sat down at
the table with th* farmer's wife and
half a dosen children.. It waa a boun
tiful meal—there were baked beans
an>l mashed potatoes and asparagus
chopped and stewed, and a dish of
strawberries, and great, thick slices of
bread, and a pitcher of milk. Jurgls
bad not had such a feast since his
welding day, and,he made a mighty
effort to put In his 20 cents' worth.
They were all of them too hungry to
talk: but afterwards they sat upon the
steps and smoked, and the farmer
questioned his guest. When Jurgls had
explained that he was a workingman
from Chicago, and that he did not
Know just whither he was bound, the
other said, "Why don’t you stay here
and work for m*7"
"I’m not looking for work Just now,"
Jurgls answered.
"I’ll pay ys good,” said the other,
eyeing his big form—"a dollar a day
and board ye. Help's terrible scarce
round here.”
"Is that winter as well a* summer?"
Jurgls demanded quickly.
"N-no,” said th* farmer: "I couldn't
keep yo after November—I ain’t got a
big enough place for that”
• I see.” said th* other, "that's what
I thought. When you get through
working your horses this fall, will you
turn them out In th* snow?” (Jurgls
was beginning to think for himself
nowadays.)
"It ain't quit* the same,” th* farmer
answered, seeing the point. "There
ought to be work a strong fellow Ilk*
v >u can find to do. In th* cities, or
1.,'u • place, In the winter time.”
••Yes,” said Jurgls, “that's what they
nil think; and so they crowd Into the
cities, and when they have to beg or
ntcal to live, and people ask ’em why
they don't go into the country, where
help is scarce."
The farmer meditated a while.
••How about when your money's
gone?” he Inquired finally. “Xou'll
have to, then, won't you?"
"Walt till It’s gone.” said Jurgls;
"then I'll see." ,
He had a long Bleep In the barn and
then a big breakfast of cotter and bread
and oatmeal and stewed cherries, for
which the man charged him only It
rents, perhaps having been Influenced
by his arguments. Then Jurgls bade
farewell, and went on his way.
Such was the beginning of his life
ns a tramp. It was seldom he got as
fair treatment aa from this last farmer,
and so as time went on he learned to
shun the house and to prefer sleeping
in the fields. When It rained he would
And a deserted building, If he could,
and If not, he would watt until after
dark and then, with hla stick reedy,
begin a stealthy approach upon a barn.
Generally he could get In before the
dog got scent of him, and then he would
hide in the hay and be safe until
morning; If not, and th* dog attacked
bias, be would rise and make g retreat
in battle order. Jurgls was not the
mighty man he had once been, but his
arm* were still good, and there were
few farm dog* ke needed to hit more
than once.
Before long there cam* raspberries,
and then blackberries, to help him save
bis money; and there were apples In
the orchard, and potatoes In the ground
—he learned to note the place* and All
hit pocket* after Hark. Twice he even
managed to capture a chicken, and had
a feast once In a deserted barn and
the other time In a lonely spot along
side of a stream. When all of these
things failed him he used his money
carefully, but without worry—for he
saw he could earn more whenever he
chose. Half an hour's chopping wood
In his lively fashion was enough to
bring him a meal, and when the farmer
had seen him working he would some
time* try to bribe him to stay.
But Jurgls was not staying. He was
a free man now, a buccaneer. The old
wanderlust had got Into his blood, th*
joy of the unbound life, th* Joy of seek
ing, of hoping without limit. There
were mishaps and discomforts—but at
least there wo* always something new
and only think whnt It meant to l
man who for years had been penned up
In one place, seeing nothing but on*
dreai
rles, .
the open sky, to behold new landscapes,
new places and new people every hour!
To a man whose whole life had Con
sisted of doing one certain thing all
day, until he was so exhausted that
he could only lie down and sleep until
the next day—and to be now hla own
master, working as he pleased and
when ha pleased, and facing a new ad
venture every hourl
Then, too, hla health came back to
him, all hla lost youthful vigor, his joy
and power that he had mourned and
forgotten! It came with a sudden rush,
bewildering him, startling him; It was
ns If his dead childhood had come
back to him, laughing and calllngl
TVhat with plenty to eat and fresh air
and exercise that was taken as It
pleased him, he would awaken from
his sleep and start off not knowing
what to do With his energy, stretching
his arms, laughing, singing old songs
of home that came back to him. Now
and then, of course, he could not help
but think of little Antanas, whom he
should never see again; whose little
voice he should never hear; apd then
he would have to battle with hlmeelf.
Sometime* at night he would waken
dreaming of Ona and stretch out his
arms to her, and wet the ground with
his tears. But In the morning he would
get up and shake himself, and stride
uway again to battle with the world.
He never asked where ho was nor
where he was going; the country was
big enough, he knew, and there was no
danger of hie coming to the end of It,
And of course he could nlways have
company for the asking—everywhere
he went there were men living Just as
he lived, and whom he was welcome to
Join. He wo* a stranger at the busi
ness, but they were not clannish, and
they taught him all their tricks—what
towns and villages It was best to keep
away from, and how to read the secret
signs upon th* fences, and when to
beg and when to steal, and Just how
to do both. They laughed at his Ideas
of paying for anything with money or
with work—for they got all they want
ed without either. Now and then Jur
... some woodland haunt, and foraged
with them In the neighborhood at
night. And then among tljem some one
would "take a shine” to ntm, and they
would go off together and travel for a
week, exchanging reminiscences.
Of these professional tramps a great
many had. of course, been shiftless and
vicious all their lives. But the vast
majority of them had been working
men. had fought the long light a* Jur
is had, and found that It waa n losing
Jght, and given up. Later on he en
countered yet another sort of men,
those from whose ranks the tramps
were recruited, men who were home
less and wandering, but atilt seeking
work—seeking It In the harvest fields.
Of these there was an army, the huge
surplus labor army of society: called
Into being under the stern system of
nature, to do the casual work of the
world, th* teaks which were transient
and Irregular, and yet which had to be
done. They did not know that they
were such, of course; they only knew
that they sought the Job, and that th*
Job was fleeting. In* the early rummer
they would be In Texas, and aa th*
crops 'were ready they would follow
north with the season, ending with th*
fall In Manitoba. Then they would seek
out the big lumber camps, where there
waa winter work; or falling In this,
would drift to th* cities, and live upon
what they had managed to save, with
th* help of such transient work as
wa* there—the loading and unloading
of steamships and drays, the digging*
of ditches and the shovelling of snow.
If there were more of them on hand
than chanced to be needed, the weaker
ones died off of cold and hunger,
again according to th* stern system of
nature. ' ...
It wa* in th* latter part of July,
when Jurgls wa* In Missouri, that he
came upon the harvest Work. Here
were crop* that men had worked for
three or four month* to prepare, and
of which they would lose nearly all
unless they could find others to help
them for a week or two. So all over
the land there was a cry for labor-
agencies were set up and all the cltlee
were drained of men. even college boys
were brought by the car load, and
hordes of frantic farmers would hold
up trains and carry off wagon loads of
men by main force. Not that they did
not pay them well—any man could get
two dollars a day and his board, and
the best men could get two dollars
and a halt or three.
Th* harvest fever was In the very
air and no man with any spirit In him
could be In that region and not catch It.
Jurgls Joined a gang and worked from
dawn till dark, eighteen hours a day,
for two weeks without a break. Then
he had a sum of money that would
have been a fortune to him In the old
dajr* of misery—but what could he do
with It now? To be sure, he might
have put It In a bonk. and. if ho were
fortunate get It back again when he
wanted It. But Jurgls was now n
homeless man, wandering over a conti
nent, and what did hn know of bank
ing and drafts and letter* of credit?
If he carried the money with him he
would rarely be robbed In the end, and
so what was there for him to do but
enjoy It while he could? On a Satur
day night he drifted Into a town with
hi* fellows, and because It was rain
ing, and there was no other place pro
vided for him, he went to a saloon.
And there were some who treated him
and whom he had to treat, and there
was laughter and singing and good
cheer; and then out of the rear part
of the Saloon a girl's fare, red cheeked
and merry, smiled at Jurgls, and his
heart thumped suddenly In his throat.
He nodded to her, and she came and
sat by him, and they had more tjrink.
And then because of his memories and
shame, he. was glad when others joined
them, men and women; and they hod
more drink and spent the night In wild
rioting and debauchery. In th* van
of the surplus-labor army there fol
lowed another, an army of wonten, they
Brass
Beds,
The latest and moat exclu
sive designs manufactured.
Quality and Prices
Unequaled.
The best expression of btgh
grade solid Rrass Tubing
construction ever exhibited
In the South.
Samples on Exhibition
in Atlanta.
ARTISTIC DESIGNS WITH
ESTIMATES ON REQUE8T
Factory Capacity 50 Beds Per Day.
THE METAL ART CO.,
Southern Representatives
UNITED SALES AGENCY,
8eltlng Experts.
Fourth National Dank Bldg.
ATLANTA.
system of nature. Because there were
rich men who sought pleasure, there
had been ease and plenty for them so
long as they were young and beauti
ful; and, later on. when they were
crowded out by others younger and
more beautiful, they went out to fol
low upon the trail of th* workingmen.
Sometimes they cam* of themselves,
and the saloon-keeper* shared with
them; or sometimes they were handled
by agencies, the sam* aa the labor
army. They were in the towns
harvest time, near the lumber camps
In the winter, In th* cities when the
men came there; If a regiment were
encamped, or a railroad or canal be
ing made, or a great exposition get
ting ready, the crowd of women were
on hand, living In shanties or saloons
or tenement rooms, sometimes eight
or ten of them together.
In the morning Jurgls had not
cent, and he went out upon the road
again. He was sick and disgusted, but
after the new plan of his life he
crushed hla feelings down. He had
mad* a fool of himself, but he could
not help It now—all he could do was
to see that It did not happen again. So
he tramped on until exercise and fresh
air banished his headache, and hla
strength and Joy returned. This hap
pened to hint every time, for Jurgls
was still a creature of Impulse, and his
pleasures hod not yet become busi
ness It would be a long tlm* before
he could be like the majority of these
men of the road, who roamed until the
hunger for drink and for women mas
fared them and then went to work with
a purpose In mind and stopped when
they had th* price of a spree. .
On the contrary, try as he would,
Jurgls could not help being made mis
erable by his conscience. It was the
ghost that would ttot down. It would
oome upon him In the most unexpected
places—sometimes it fairly drove him
to drink.
One night he was caught by a thun
der storm and he sought shelter In a
little house Just outside of a town. It
waa a workingman's home, and the
owner was a Slav like himself, a new
emigrant from White Russia; he bade
Jurgls wslcome In his home language,
and told him to come to th* kitchen
fire and dry himself. He had no bed
for him, but there was straw In the
garret, and he could make out. The
man's wife was cooking the supper, and
their chlldran were playing about on
the floor. Jurgls sat and exchanged
thought* with him about the Old Coun
try and th* places where they had been
and the work they had done. Then
they ate, and afterward sat and
smoked and talked more about Amer
ica and how they found It In the mid
dle of a sentence, however, Jurgla
stopped, seeing that th* woman had
brought a big basin of water and was
proceeding to undress her youngest
baby. The rest had crawled Into the
cloeet where they slept, but th* baby
was to have a bath, th* workingman
explained. The nights had begun to be
chilly, and his mother. Ignorant as to
th* climate Ih America, had sewed him
up for th* winter; then It had turned
warm again, and some kind of a rash
had broken out on the child. The doc
tor had said she must bathe him every
night, and th* foolish woman believed
him.
Jurgls scarcely heard the explana
tlnn; he was watching the baby. He
was about a year old, and a sturdy lit
tle fellow, with soft, fat legs, and a
round ball of a stomach, and eyes ss
black aa coals. His pimple* did not
seem to bother him much, and he was
wild with glee over th* bath, kicking
and squirming and chuckling with de
light, pulling at his mother's face and
then at his own little toe*. When ah*
put him Into the basin he sat In the
midst of It and grinned, splashing the
water over himself and squealing like a
little pig. He spoke In Russian, of
which Jurgls knew some; he spoke It
with the quaintest of baby accents—
and every word of It brought back to
Jurgls some word of his own dead
little one, and stabbed him like a knife.
He aat perfectly motionless, silent, but
gripping his hands tightly, while a
Stop* gathered In his bosom and a
Hood heaped Itself up behind his eyes
And In the end he could bear It no
more, but burled his fare In hi* hands
and burst Into tears, to the alarm and
amarement of his hosts. Between the
shame of this and his woe, Jurgls
could not stand It, and got up and
rushed out Into the rain.
tic went <n and on down the rose,
finally coming to a black woods, where
he hid and wept as If his heart would
break. Ah, what agony was that, what
despair, when the tomb of memory wa*
rent open and the ghosts of hts old
life came forth to scourge him! What
terror to see what he had been and
now could never be—to see Ona and
hi* child and his own dead self etretch-
Ing out their arm* to him, calling to
him across a bottomless abyss—and
to know that they were gone from him
forever, and he writhing and suffocat
ing In the mlr* of hla own vllenesel
chaptIr XXIII.
Early In the fall Jurgls set out foi;
Chicago again. All the joy went out
of tramping a* soon os a man could
not keep warm In the hay. and, like
many thousands of others, he deluded
himself with the hope that by coming
early he could avoid tb* rush. He
SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS
Tho story of “The Jungle.” Upton Sinclair’s novel, which caused the government Investigation Into the
methods employed by the lieef Trust, has its origin in an actual Packingtown romance.
A simple-minded coterie of Lithuanians arrive In Chicago, seeking employment, and are conducted to
Packingtown by a friend. Jurgls, a giant In strength. Is betrothed to Ona. and the first chapter tells of the
woddlng-ln all Its grotes-iueness. After much tribulation the entire family obtains work in the stockyards—
all but Ona, who, Jurgls said, should never work.
The terrible tale of the slaughter houses Is told with almost revolting detail—the tilth, the overworking
of handB, the struggle to keep up with the pacemakers. Is all vividly depicted. The little family buys a house
on the instalment plan, only to And they have been swindled, and Ona Is forced to seek work to meet the
actual living expenses and the Interest on the purchase contract, of which they learn too late.
Just aa Ona and Jurgls pay Marija what they owe her, Jurgls turns his ankle and Is laid up for monttiB.
His nature Ix-glne to change. He becomes croas and savage with pain. Starvation stares the fan\ ly In the f/ire.
Then Ona confesses, under compulsion, that In order to save the entire family from Ananclal destruction
and loss of Jobs, Connor, foreman of her department In tho yards, had forced her to receive attentions from
him. Jurgls almost kills her. Thsn he rushes blindly to the yards and tries to kill Connor, sinking his teeth
Into him, anil Is dragged off by a dozen men. Jurgls Is then arrested, and spends Christmas Eve in prison,
awaiting trial.
Later he Is sentenced to thirty days In prison. Finally he Is released and returns to what was once his
home. Another family has It.
Jurgls traces Ills family to a shanty to And hjs wife dying. He seeks a midwife, who laughs In his face
when he tells her he ha* only a dollar and a quarter, but she Anally relents and goes with him. At the door of
the shanty Marija meets and entreats him to go away until tho morning. He walks the streets aU night, and
reaches home in the morning In time to close his wife's eyes In death. Then ho takes to drink In earnest.
Jurgls is blacklisted In every pocking house by Connor, but Annlly obtains a Job with the Harvester Trust.
The department In which he work* closes down .Starvation again Is Imminent, but a philanthropic woman came
to his rescue and gets the Lithuanian a job In a steel factor}’. Meanwhile the hero's son has died, nnd ho la left
practically alone In th* world, with resentment against conditions gradually growing stronger In him.
Copyright, 1206, by Upton Sinclair. A11 rights reserved.
brought Afteen dollars with him, hid
den nway In one of his shoes, a sam
which had been saved from his saloon
keepers, not so much by hls conscience
as by the fear which Ailed him at the
thought of being out of work In the
city 1 lh the winter time.
He traveled upon the railroad with
several other men, hiding In freight
cars at night, and liable to be thrown
off at any time, regardless of the speed
of the train. When he reached th*
city he left th* rest, for he had money
and they did not. and he meant to save
himself In this Aght. He would bring
to It ail the eklll that practice had
brought him, and he would stand, who
ever fell. On fair nights he would
sleep In the park or on a truck or an
empty barrel or box, and when It was
rainy or cold he would stow himself
upon a shelf In a ten-cent lodging
bouse, or pay three cent* for the priv
ileges of a "squatter” In a tenement
hallway. He would eat at free lunches,
live cents a meal, and never a cent
more—so he might keep alive for tvo
months and more, and In that time h^
would surely And a Job. He would
have to bid farewell to hls summer
cleanliness, of course, for he would
com* out of the Arst night's lodging
with hls clothes alive with vermin.
There was no place In the city where
he could wash even hls face, unless he
went down to the lake front, nnd there
It would soon be all Ice.
First, he went to the steel mill and
the harvester workiy and found that
hi* places there had been Ailed long
ago. He waa careful to keep away
from the stock yards—he was a single
man now, he told himself, and he meant
to stay one, ta have hls wages for hla
own when he got a Job. He began the
long, weary round of factories and
warehouses, tramping all day, from one
pnd of the city to the other, Andlng
every where from ten to a hundred
men ahead of him. He watched the
newspapers, too—but no longer was
he to be taken In by smooth-spoken
agents. He had been told of all those
tricks while "on tho road."
In tho end It was through a news
paper that ho got a Job, after nearly a
month of seeking. It was a call for a
hundred laborers, nnd 'though he
thought It a ''fake," he went because
the place was near by. He found a
line of men a block long, but as a
wagon chanced to come out of an alley
and break the line, he saw hls chance
and sprang to seise a place. Men
threatened him and tried to throw him
out, hut he cursed and made a dis
turbance to attract a policeman, upon
which they subelded, knowing that If
the latter Interfered It would be to
'Are” them all.
Ah hour or two later he entered a
room and confronted a big Irishman
behind a desk.
"Ever worked In Chicago before?"
the nmn Inquired, and whether It waa
a good angel that put Into Jurgls' mind,
or an Intuition of hls sharpened wits,
he woe moved to answer. "No, sir."
"Where do you come from?”
“Kansas City, sir.”
"Any references?”
"No, sir. I'm Just an unskilled man.
I've got good arms.”
•1 want men for hard work—It's all
underground, digging tunnels for tele
phones. Maybe It won't suit you.”
“I'm willing, sir—anything for me.
Whit’s th* pay?"
“Fifteen cents an hour.”
"I'm willing, sir.” *
"All right; go back there and give
your name."
So within half an hour he waa at
work, far beneath the sjreel* of the
city. Th* tunnel was a peculiar on*
for telephone wire*; It was about eight
feet high, and with a level Aoor nearly
as wide. It had Innumerable branches
—a perfect spider-web beneath the
city; Jurgls walked over half a mil*
with hls gang to the place where they
were to work. Stranger yet, the turn
nel waa lighted by electricity, and upon
It waa laid a double-tracked, narrow-
gauge railroad!
But Jurgls was not there to ask
questions, and he did not give the mat
ter a thought. - It was nearly a year
afterwards when he Anally learned the
meaning of this whole affair. Th* city
council had passed a quiet and Inno
cent little bill allowing a company to
construct telephon* conduits under the
city streets and upon the strength of
this, a great corporation had proceeded
to tunnel all Chicago with a system
of railway freight subways In th* city
there was a combination of employers,
representing hundreds of millions of
capital, and formed for the purpose of
crushing the labor unions
The chief union which troubled It
was the teamsters; and when these
freight tunnel* ware completed, con-
had been In the rear of the saloon of
one of them.
It was In a hewly opened cut that
Jurgls worked, and so he knew that he
had an all winter Job. He was so re
joiced that he treated himself to a spree
that night, and with the balance of hls
money he hired himself a place In
tenement room, where he slept upon
big home-made straw mattress along
with four other workingmen. This was
21 a week and for floor more ho got hla
food In a boarding house near hls work.
This would leave him four dollars ex
tra each week, an unthinkable sum
for him. At the outset he had to pay
for hlk digging tools, and also to buy a
pair of heavy boots, since hls shoes
wer* falling to pieces, and a Aannel
shirt, since the one he had worn all
summer was In shreda^^^HI^H^B
■ He spent a week meditating whether
or not he should also buy an ovsreoaL
Thor* was ons belonging to a Hebrew
collar button peddler, who bad died In
the room next to him, and which the
landlady was holding for her rent; In
th* end, however, Jurgls decided to
do without It, as he was to be under
ground by day and In bed at night.
This was an unfortunate decision,
however, for It drove him more quickly
than ever Into the saloons. From now
on Jurgls worked from 7 o'clock until
6:10, with half an hour for dinner,
which meant that he never saw the
eunllght on week day*. In the eve
nings there wa* no place for him to go
except to a barroom; no place where
there wax light and warmtn, where he
could hear a little muelo or alt with a
companion and talk. lie had now no
home to go to; he had no affection left
In hi* life; only the pitiful mockery of
It In th* camaraderie of vice. On Sun
day* th* churches were open, but where
Was thero a church in which an 111-
smelltng workingman could sit without
seeing people edge away and look an
noyed ? He had, of course, hts comer In
a close though unhealed room, with a
window opening upon a blank wall two
feet away; and also he hod the bare
streets, with the winter gales sweeping
through them; besides this he had
only the saloons—and, of course, he had
to drink to stay In them.
If he drank now and then he was
free to mako himself at home, to gam
ble with dice or a pack of greasy cards.
■mafoMfomritai hie for money,
nectlng all the big factories and stores
with the railroad depots, they would
have the Teamsters’ Union by the
throat. Now and then there were ru
mor* and murmurs In th* board of al
derman, and once there was a commit'
lee to Investigate—but each tlm* aw
other small fortune was paid over, and
the rumor* died away; until at last
the city woke up with a start to And
the work completed.. There wa* a tre
mendous acsndal, of course; It was
found that the city records had been
falslfted and other crime* committed,
and some of Chicago's big capitalists
got into Jail—figuratively speaking.
The aldermen declared that they had
no Idea of It all. In spite of th* fact
that th* main entrance to the work
S KlciUUc l/f llacat Hi
Wbisktj, Opium, M§r-
ai.il. Cetiite. CHull,
Tj9.fi. i.4 hyraithi.
■la 9t Sarra blielllii.
Tbs Only Keeie; Initl-
Idle in Gtorgii.
235 Capitol An., ATLANTA, 6A.
and WHISKEY HABITS
cured at home with
out pain. Book of par
ticulars sent FRKE,
B. M. WOOLLEY. M. D.
pink
... paper," with pictures of
derers and half-naked women. Ii
for such pleasures as these that he
spent hls money; and such was hls life
during the six weeks and a half that
he tolled for the merchants of Chicago,
to enable them to break the grip of
their Teamsters' Union.
In a work thus carried out, not much
thought was given to the welfare of
the laborers. On an average, (he tun
nelling coet a life a day and several
mangling!; It was seldom, however,
that more than a dozen nv two men
heard of any one accident. The work
was all done by the new boring ma
chinery, with as little blasting as pos
sible; but there would be falling rock*
and crushed supports and premature
explosions—and In addition all the
dangers of railroading. Bo It was that
one night, a* Jurgls was on hls way
out with hls gang, an engine and a
loaded car dashed around on* of th*
Innumerable right-angle branches and
struck him upon the shoulder, hurllni
him against the concrete wall ant
knocking him eenseless.
When he opened hls ej
was to th* clanging of the bell of an
ambulance. He waa lying In it, cov-
erad by a blanket, and It was thread
ing Its Way slowly through the holiday
shopping crowds. They took him to
th* county hospital, whara a young
surgeon act hls arm; thsn h* was
washed and laid upon a bed In a ward
with a scar* ,or two more of maimed
and manglad men.
Jurgls spent hi* Christmas In this
hospital, and It was th* pleasantest
Christmas h* had had In America.
Every year thar* ware scandals and
Investigations In this Institution, th*
newspapers charging that doctors wara
allowed to try fantaatlo experiments
upon ths patients; but Jurgls knsw
nothing of this—hls only complaint waa
that they used to fead him upon tinned
meat, which no man who had ever
worked In Packingtown would feed to
hla dog. Jurgla had often wondered
Just who ate the canned corned beef
and "roast beef of the stock yards;
now h* began to understand—that It
waa what you might call "graft meat,"
put up to be sold to public offlclals
and contractors, and eaten by soldiers
and sailors, prisoners and Inmates of
Instltulons, "shanty-men” and gangs of
railroad laborers.
Jurgls was ready to leave the hos
pital at th* end of two weeks. This
did not mean that ,ils arm was, strong
and that he was able to go back to
work, but simply that h* could get
along without further attention, and
that hla plac* was needed for aoma
one worse off than he. That he waa
utterly helpless, and had no means of
keeping himself alive In the meantime
waa something which did not concern
the hospital authorities, nor any on*
else In the city.
A* It chanced, he had been hurt on
a Monday, and had Just paid for hla
last week's board and hls room rent,
and spent nearly all the balance of hla
Saturday's pay. He had less tbqp 72
cents In hla pockets, and $1.20 due him
for the day's work h* had done before
he was hurt. He might possibly have
sued the company, and got some dam
ages for hls injuries, but he did not
know this, and It was not the com
pany's business to tall him. He went
and got bis pay and hla tools, which
he left In a pawnshop for 20 cent*.
Then he went to hls landlady, who had
rented hie place and had no other for
him; and then to Me bearding house
keeper, who looked him over and ques
tioned him. Aa ha must certainly be
helpless for a couple of month*, and
had boarded there only six weak*, she
decided vary quickly that It would not
be worth the risk to keep him on trust.
So Jurgls went out Into the streets.
In a most dreadful plight It was bit
terly cold, and a heavy snow waa fall
ing, beating Into hls face. He had no
overcoat, and no place to go, and two
earn another cent for month*. The
snow meant no chance to him now; he
must walk along and see others shov
eling, vigorous and active—and he with
hls left arm bound to hls side! He
could not hope to tide himself over by
odd Jobs of loading trucks; be could
then one had to buy another drink
or move on. That Jurgls was an m2
customer entitled him to a somewhlt
longer stop; but then he had been airav
two weeks, and was evidently "on th.
. H i? ml * h ‘ P Ieart and tell hi*
"hard luck story," but that would nni
help him much. A saloon keeper who
was to be moved by such means would
soon have hla place Jammed to th.
doors with "hoboes" on a dav ilk. mi.
on a day like this
So Jurgla went out Into another i ia.-k
and paid another nickel. He was ,,
hungry this time that he could not re
slst the hot beef stew, an Indulgent,
which cut short hlsA stay by a consid!
crable time. When he was again told
to move on he made hls way to .
"tough" place In the "Levee" district
where now and then he had gone with
a certain rat-eyed Bohemian working,
man of hls acquaintance. It was j U r
gls' vain hope that here the proprietor
would let him remain as a "sitter"
In low-class places. In the dead of
winter, saloon keepers would often al
low one or two forlorn-looking bum,
who came In covered with snow or
sonked with rain to sit by the Are and
look miserable to attract custom, a
workingman would come In, feeling
cheerful after hla day’s work was ov t f
nnd tt would trouble him to have to
take hls glass with such a sight under
hls nose: and so he would call our
"Hello, Bob, what's the matter? You
look as If you'd been Ud against It!"
And then the other would begin to pour
out some tale of misery, nnd the man
not even sell newspapers or carry maybe thaVll^brace’veu ifn"**And*^
satchel*,, because he was now at the they wou i<j drink together, and - If the
tramp was sufficiently wretched look-
lng. or good enough at the "gab," they
might have two; and If they were to
discover that they were from the same
country, or had lived In .the same city
or worked nt the same trade, they
might sit down at a table and spend
an hour or two In talking, and before
they got through the saloon keeper
would have taken in a dollar. All of
this might seem diabolical, but the sa
loon keeper was in no wise to blame
for It. He waa In the same plight a«
the manufacturer who has to adulter
ate and misrepresent hls product. I(
he does not. some one else will; and
the saloon keeper, unless he Is also
an alderman, is apt to be In debt to
the big brewers, and on the verge of
being aold ouL
(Continued in Monday's Georgian.)
merey of nny rival. Words could not
paint the terror thnt came over him
as hr realized all tills. He nas like
a wounded animal In the forest; he was
forced to compete with Ills enemies
upon unequal terms. There would be
no consideration for’ him because of
hla weakness—It was no one's business
to help him In such distress, to make
tho Aght the least bit easier for him.
Even If he toak I > begging .u'd
be at a disadvantage, for reasons which
he was to discover In good time.
In the beginning he could not think
of anything except getting out of the
awful cold. He went Into one of the
saloons he had been wont to frequent
and bought s drink, and then stood by
the Are shivering and waiting to be or
dered out According to an unwritten
law, the buying a drink Included the
prlvltego of loaAng for just so long;
KING OF ENGLAND
FI
Becomes Frightened After
Bomb Outrage at
Madrid.
By RICHARD ABERCORN,
Special to tho (Jeorjfian.
London, July 14.—ft Is on open secret nt
court that for tho first tlino In hls llfo
Kins Kdwnrtl Is beginning to experience
wholesome dread of snarchlsts.
Since the outrage st Madrid, the king
las shown a marked dislike to driving In a
Torsed carriage. Whenever It Is possible,
19 uses one of his inOior enrs, and being
exsuipt from the ordinary snood regulations
of the road, he travels ns fast as possible.
The reason for tills nervousness Is tho
’act that a fortnight ago, the Scotland
i’nrd detectives obtained possession of n
letter Miowlng tlmt the must ilnngcrnm*
ng of anarchists have now added King
■ ' - 2 *- •* ' —— - .IrnH icun '•
The original anonymous letter to which
ths police Attach some Importance Is In pos
session of tho king, who appeared to pass
■".<•!■ tlic niMttoi- lightly. Th.« letter Inin
been shown almost jokingly to various mem
bers of tho royal household, but at the
same time It Is known thnt ihe detectives
are watching well known Anarchists more
closely than they have ever done before.
The shameful way poor Irish women are
m.Hi** to work for no wages at all bis been
described Iwfore a government committee
by Factory Inspector Itoea M. Squire.
* or pnymenMn<
CHUBBY CHARLEY,
CAPITOL LANDMARK
Continued from Psg* Fiv,.
the north of
Speaking of ths •'truck,” (
clml, system, as worked In
Ireland, Miss Squire said:
"In Donegal. 1 found that poor women
walk many miles Into towns, where wool
Is given out to them, which they take back
to their aaualld cabins and knit into stock-
.— — -*■ payment, ex-
the former be-
m at li 5d s Dound
(if centa5,"tha* ordinary prior for good ten
being 10 or 20 cent,). No money p»i«d
sad the worker* ctn not get coin,”
Before (he ran **rn her pound of tea,
th, wretched peasant has to knit tome
two end a half dosen pair of ,tocklngs.
which are afterward! Mkt retail at tl.20 to
It a pair.
'The bnu,ea of the workers, continued
Mia, Squire, ‘‘are lanlated, one-siory cabins,
perched on roek, soil or standing In bogs,
with mud doom, and generally a cow, and,
perhaps, a calf, but always a pig, with
cocks snd bens In the living room/
moat Engllab pcopli
couniesara aa culture.
The paper ba, over thirty editor,. In
Society with a eapltal 8 It waa qnlte Im
possible to bar* only one editor, so all
be contributor! have been made editors,
nd the heartrendlngs have been avoided.
Among tbeee distinguished Journalist, tr*
’rincem Christian, th, dneheu of ttomerect,
lady Victoria Manner,, Huaan, countess
of tltlmtsburj; dowager counter, of Dud
ley, dowager conntrss of <Iottenh,m, coun-
t*u of torttou, lady Archibald Campbell,
Viscountess Galway, Lady Montague of
leaulleu. Lady Ana strong, Lady Helen
Fortin, Lady Augaita Fa nr. II on. I-ady
lelllnsham, Hon. Mrs.. Anstratber, lion.
Sybil Leigh. I-ady Palmer, I-ady Buaan
Yorks, th* mac* of Sarawak. Lady Ilroome.
rlncMS Henry of l’less La. Princess De-
eaaagne, the Marches* DlConseutlne, and
_ dozen other persons of less distinguished
Tb, vulgar public was considerately
given an opportunity of seeing the flrat
number which was sold tt the newspaper
stand, for n .hilling. The following num-
b*n, however, are not available, except
" yearly sn'
fs current
rthers will
lefoacop* b
permitted
ever for a job, ten years st It ought
to demonstrate It In 18(4 Charles
Northen, minus much of the rotundity
st the belt llhe snd the white In th,
hair, but with the "I’ll-do-lt-for-you-
If-lt-busta-a-trace" air then upon hi,
open and.pleasant countenance, qpme
to the senate as assistant to Secretary
Bill” Clifton. The late W. H. Ven-
able was president Qf the upper house.
Through the Venable presidency In
1894-B and the term of Robert L. Ber
ner, 18(6-7, Mr. Northen served os as
sistant to Secretary Clifton. He "mad*
good” in great shape. Men who cam,
up to Atlanta as lawmakers began to
know and regard with favor thl,
cherubic-faced young man.
Then the senate of 1808-9 was elect
ed and W. C. Dodson was named os the
presiding offleer. Charley Northen was
elected secretary of the body easily
over what waa considered strong oppo
sition. -
And there he remains placidly mov
ing through the dally routine of th*
sessions. He was with Clark Howell
In hls two tenures os president, from
1900 to 1904. When this senate was
elected a contest came on for the pres
idency of the body .that laated through
some days. But Charley Northen had
the Job of secretary cinched whoever
might be the man.
Oppoiition Always Melts.
Opposition he has nearly always had,
but It has' melted away usually before
the selection was made. Once a rival
candidate got Ave votes. That's aa
near aa any fellow has ever com* to
depoilng him.
And the odds are that he will be tt
the same old stand doing bualnaas
when the senate of 1907-8 la called to
ord«r by whoever Is selected for th*
presidency.
One of the secrets of hls success—
which will be wantonly divulged her*—
Is the fact that he surrounds himself
with good men as hit aids In th* cler
ical work of the eenate. Captain
Charles P. Hansel), of Thomnsvllle, la
assistant secretary; Judge Tyson, cal
endar clerk: Guerry Brannon, of
Georgetown, chief clerk, and Flyna
Hargett, of Columbus, messenger.
To ninety-nine men out of a hun
dred the Hon. Charles S. Northen I*
Ju«t "Charley." He Is the kind of a
K hlal personality that Invites It, and
cause he Is "Charley" to them M
continues as secretary of the Georgia
senate, though the political fortune* of
other men rlae only to crumble In dual.
WEEK-END RATES FF
ATLANTA VIA
to remain on the ■uhecrlptton
ta. The new publication tjposraphl-
Ilv Is a hamlaome affair, bat with aoch
staff of editors the letter press la sur-
!L£
WOOLLEY.M.D. overcoat, ana no piece in RO, anu iwu
F Atlanta, G a. Office lOtN. Pryor street, dollars snd slxty-flve cents In his pock
et, with the certainty that he could not
PH singly disappointing. Tb* seeretn of
courts and the wonderful aiorlea that the
advance notice* of the publication lend Ibe
public to believe would appear were con-
splcuoua by their absence.
tt ta a curious circumstance that, though
the name of Princess Christian wan laelad-
ed In th* list of editors, her name Is miss
ing from the flrat number. It la believed'
that the king ha* pat His foot down os the
princess' incursion Into Journalism.
_T WUly,
who la said to he Ibe greatest sugar Icing
expert In the world. They are made of
pink mareaptn. and the lettering la don*
Tn the flneat sugar Icing, lurtoaed In n lit
tle box, which I* propped upright by the
•Me of every guest's plate, th* edlbl*
menu In an ornament, aa well sa s bosno
bouche. •.
Tallulah Falls
Mt. Airy *.
Llthla Springs
Indian Springs ..
Warm 8prlngt
Cumberland Island ..
Atlantic Beach .. .. .
Lookout Mountain ..
St. Simons
Asheville
Lake Toxaway
Tryon
Saluda
Gainesville ...
Toceoa ... ... ..
Noreroes
Suwanee
Tallapoosa
White Sulphur
Tickets on eale every Saturday 5- cd
to return following Monday.
J. C. BEAM, JRv D- p> *■
3J5
22.40
.. •“
.. 3.00
..
.. »•»
.. 10.1*
.. 4-<°
.. «■»
.. 7.95
8.7®
„ 8.90
«■**
.. 1*2®
.. 2JO
. •»
. J*
. 2D0
. 1J®