Chapter XXV – Birk In The Mud

Coal Dusters 

Chapter XXV

Birk In The Mud

Birk and Clancy went into the back garden and Clancy sat on the bench, Birk sprawled on the ground leaning against it. He took off his work boots and socks.

“You see how she looked?” Clancy asked. “That weren’t no bump on anything.”

“Yep.” Birk knew Clancy meant Lillian. He had watched her on and off all night to see if there was some indication of who had struck her. “At the end there. When she come up into the light in front of all of us.”

“Oh yeah that look o’hers at the good man of the cloth, that uncle o’ her’s. I figure everyone there saw that and knew who she got beat by.”

Clancy began to push his boots off. Birk yanked them off for him and then his socks.

“Blue Lake smell still on’ em.” he laughed.

“It was good day fishin’?” Clancy said.

“Yeh. You pleased with what we caught?”

“I’m pretty happy with it, if you are?”

“Yeh. It’ll be a week or so ‘fore we can go up there again to there.” 

“Figured.” Clancy ruffling Birk’s hair. “It’s been a long day though. More tired now than when I raked behind you all day.”

“What’s that?” Birk stood. “Sounds like singin’.” He began to pull his boots and socks back on.

“Coming from the docks?” Clancy pulled his socks and boots back on. “Could it be those micks drunk and singing to the Holy Ghost?”

They walked to the lane that lead to the colliery and followed the singing to the dock. A group of the miners we’re sitting around a bonfire on the dirt road that lead to the pier.

“Join us lads?” Jim McKlusky came over to them with a bottle in his hand. “Someone has liberated some of the good father’s wine.”

Birk recognized some of the miners from the other collieries. They had just started a ragged verse of Rule Britannia with some of miners supplying their own words:

“Rule BritCan Co BritCan Co rules the coal

Miners ever ever ever shall be slaves

The miners not so blest with greed

Must take their turn in Hell

While you eat great meals for free

On the blood and sweat of all miners”

On the chorus all the miners joined in, adding their own bits to it. ‘Rule rule rule but never feed,’ ‘To Hell Hell Hell with their command.’ 

Different bottles made the rounds. Some with mild wine and others with potent home brews that sung Birk’s eyes and one that he spat out as fast as he could.

The miner with a squeeze box started in on Mademoiselle from Armenteires who you couldn’t kiss unless you’ve had forty beers. As they went through the verses and choruses locations changed, what the mademoiselle would do became more dirty and her body parts more detailed.

“You blushing?” Clancy grabbed Birk in a headlock and rubbed his hair. “Too much for your innocent ears?”

“Get off me!” Birk pushed him away and sent him reeling into a couple of miners swinging each other round in a step dance. This sent the dancers sprawling on the ground to great whoops and applause from the others. The shift signal whistle silenced them all.

“Well men,” the miner with his fiddle stopped. “Looks like its time to face the real music.”

 Birk helped Clancy up and dusted him off. 

Birk’s mother was sitting in her armchair by the stove when they went in. She took a deep breath as they splashed water on their faces at the sink.

“Someone’s been playing in the mud have they.” She said. “Mud and homemade by the stink.”

“I’m sorry Ma.” Birk couldn’t look her in the eyes.

“At’s okay son, your about a man now and it’s time you started to learn about some of those men things.”

“I’ll keep an eye on him Mrs. N.” Clancy said.

“So what’s the word on the strike boys?”

“Strike Mrs. N.” 

“Pa’s gone to check the boilers. He’ll be back soon.” Birk leaned over and kissed her on the forehead.

Is was raining heavily in the morning. Birk couldn’t see past the back fence. The lane in front of the house was muddy.

“Better wait till we get to the main lane before you put yer boots and socks on Clancy. Yer about to find out why this is called Mudtown.” Birk said as they were getting ready to set out. “After a heavy rain last year Billy McLean lost a kid. Wanted to cross over to play with cousins across the way there. Got caught in the mud and couldn’t get out and got pulled under somehow.”
“Yer joking.”

“Not a bit of it. No matter how much of the slag gets dumped on the road it sinks to somewhere when the rains fall.”

The rain slickers they wore kept them dry but all the laneways had all become rivers of mud. Thick, cold mud. They sank up to their knees at some points as they struggled to the colliery gates. Even the main lane was pitted with bogs of mud.

There were several other miners there when they arrived. A couple of them had trimmed some thick branches they intended to use as weapons if need be.

“Ya think the company will try anything?”

“Maybbe not.” one of them said “But best be prepared. If we show them we mean business right off we already have the upper hand.”

The rain didn’t let up. At different times during the day other miners would show up, some would go home. The union rep visited with them for an hour or so bringing hot tea with him. Then Reverend Brown came by with a roast chicken for them to share.

The men were too cold and wet to joke amongst themselves or talk for long. They stood on either side of the gate glaring into the rain, looking into the mine yard to see who they might see. 

Two of the managers showed up. The miners crowded around the gate to impede them from going in but didn’t do anything to directly hold them back either.

“It’s all fer show these first couple of days.” Jake told them. 

It pointless to Birk. He’d rather have been going underground to work than wallow around in this cold wet muck. Although he knew that the unions helped make sure that the men had some benefits from their jobs – the wash-up rooms, a doctor, that sort of thing; he didn’t feel they did much for him in the long run. They got his dues right off his pay every week but never saw them active in the lives of the miners.

At least Father Pat or Reverend Brown came into their homes when they were sick or hurt, but they only saw the union rep when there was need for more money for the union.

The rep hadn’t even told them what the strike fund was going to do for them. They’d been paying something into for the last three years since the last strike. Was there going to be enough between him and Clancy to keep food on the table? Blackie would still get his full pay to tend the boilers but the most of that would go for the house and that wouldn’t leave enough for their needs.

Maybe they’d have to go fishing sooner than they planned. That idea pleased him. He hadn’t dwelt on what he and Clancy did sliding on each other. Now the memory made him happy.

“You got something to smile about?” one of the men asked him.

“Yeh getting home and into dry clothes.” He said.

“Sure it isn’t that priest’s gal.” Clancy asked.

“Not a bit.” He hoped they wouldn’t see his cheeks burning as they questioned him.

“Sure wish she’d come by with that tea trolly now.”

“She’s need a dory to get through to us here ya know.” Birk said.

“Maybbe she can walk on mud as Jesus did on the water.” One of them said.

“Time you two went home.” Jim McKlusky appeared out of the rain. “Before yer house gets washed away.”

“Right, Thanks Jim. See ya in the morning.” Clancy said.

“If we find a place to dock the house, that is.” Birk said.

They set off to the house and stopped at the rise at the top of the laneway, leaned against the fence, pulled off their boots and socks and slogged down the lane.

“You think much about what we did t’other day up at the lake?” Clancy asked. 

“When we was fishin’ ya mean?”

“Yeh then.”

“Not as if I forgot it b’y but there’s a lot goin’ on too. Why?”

“Just wondering. I didn’t mind it.”

“Me neither.” Birk shook rain off his shoulders.

“Ya think that Lillian might …”

“Get those evil thoughts outta yer head Clancy.”

“Only thing keeps me warm in this rain.” Clancy wiped the rain off his face.

“I’d warm the arse of whoever done that hurt to her.”

“Me too, but if’n I found out who did harm her and I did him a harm, she might be very grateful.”

“How many time’s do we have tell ya she’s not going look twice at some orange arse.”

“I’d convert.” Clancy laughed.

“No doubt you would. What would yer ma think though?”

“She wouldn’t care. She was a mick herself, you see. When she married me paw her family turned their back on her. When m’pa died they wouldn’t forgive her till she went to confession and the priest said she was penitent. She only did that so we’d have a place to live.”

“So you think this one would be different, eh? Not as if she’s your regular mick either. The priest’s niece. She’s almost a nun.”

“Never thought of her that way.” Clancy laughed tipping water out of his boots.

Clancy lost his footing the the muck and staggered into Birk and they both fell into one of the deeper ruts. Birk’s work boots went flying.

“So much for trying to spare them.” 

Clancy crawled over the mud and got the boots then pushed himself to his feet. He turned to help Birk up.

“What a pair we make!” Birk laughed. “Can’t even walk home in the rain.”

“Yeh. All we are is a couple of dirty, filthy Mudtown mine rats.”

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License

Hey! Now you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy ice-cream in Washington at 2019’s capfireslam.org – sweet,eh? paypal.me/TOpoet

Chapter XXIV –  Birk Steps Up

Coal Dusters 

Chapter XXIV 

Birk Steps Up

Birk and Clancy stopped to chat with the miners gathered out side St. Agatha’s hall. There were various groups of them from the different pits in the area. Some had their wives and children with them. None of them were eager for a strike and some expressed that it was downright foolishness and were there to make sure their voices were heard.

“Is your Da going to be here Birk?” Jake came over.

“Depends on when get away from the boilers.” Birk said.

“Loves them more than anything else.” Jake offered Birk his tobacco pouch and papers.

“Nah.” Birk said. 

Clancy reached over and accepted it. “Thanks. Might as well enjoy a smoke when we can.” He spread a thin line of the tobacco and studied it and glanced at Jake before rolling the paper around it. “Looks a bit stretched.”

“Yeah well there’s some ground up hay in there. Something my pa used to do. Don’t taste it much though.”

Clancy lit the cigarette and took a tentative draw on. “If the strike goes on long well have to get used it.”

William Gregory, the union rep, opened the hall doors. “Not much space in here so I’ll have to ask the women to wait outside.” 

Birk and Clancy were separated as the men pushed in rushing to get seats. Birk ended up sitting with Jake Malone near the back with another of their laneway neighbours Jim McKlusky. 

Father Patrick started meeting with the Lord’s Pray. Not all the men knew all the words and Birk mumbled along as best he could. The moment it was over Jim started O Canada and the men got louder as they went along. he could hear the women outside singing too. 

The men sat and began talking amongst themselves. Birk was never at ease when there were so many people talking at the same time. Seeing all these men here and not in the colliery wash up was like seeing some of them for the first time. So Digger Johnny didn’t always wear that same denim coverall and canvas coat all the time. He was a different person in a clean white shirt and grey trousers, held up by striped suspenders. If it weren’t for the heavy work boots Birk would have taken him for a store clerk.

  Two of the union men were going along the aisles and talking to miners quietly. 

“Good to see you here tonight b’ys” one of them shook Birk’s hand. “We’re feeling that this time we can make a difference.”

“We’ve heard that before.” Jim McKlusky said. “Birk here might be too young to remember the strike of 1918. What the fluenza didn’t kill starvation nearly did.”

The meeting got started with William Gregory reading off the contract demands, none of which, he claimed, the management was willing to discuss. “As far as BritCan is concerned there is nothing to discuss.”

The men in the back row around Birk whispered furtively back and forth with comments about what was being said on stage. Having Alf Landon there added to the seriousness of the situation. No one was pleased to hear that there’d be no government support for strike action. 

The air in the hall was thick with the smoke from the miners’ cigarettes and the cigars the union men where puffing on. His eyes were watering. He looked around for Clancy but didn’t spot him through the haze. His side of the room was the most restless and resistant to the fact that the strike would commence at midnight that night.

“Let’s get some fresh air.” Clancy suddenly appeared behind him and tapped him on the shoulder.

They went out to the front steps of the hall and there were several men out there smoking. and passing a bottle around. He and Clancy shared the last of the Manny cigarettes.

“No hay in these.” Clancy took a long drag on his.

“You know what burns me up?” said one of the miners outside the hall. “The fact that we have to meet here in this Papist hall.”

“Not as if we have anything this size over our side of the town.” one of them said. “Fraid they’ll get their boots dusty in Mudtown.”

“Can’t expect to do this at the pluck me either.” another said passing the bottle to Birk.

Birk took a fast swing and nearly spit it out. It was some of the home made beer he’d tried at Geo’s wedding. He wiped the bottle neck and passed it back.

The men laughed. “If’n they did they would dock our pay for the wear and tear on the floor boards.”

“Yeh, I know that but it’s not as if we get anything from Rome to keep up appearance the way the good Father does.” the first man said.

“Or that niece o’his. Looks good even with that bump on her face.”

“Who you think did that t’her.”

“Maybe she did to herself.” Clancy said.

“Yeh. Tripping in the church on those things they kneel on and hitting her face on one of Jesus’s bleedin’ feet.”

The men laughed.

“I know a smack when I sees one.” Another of the men said. “Gives my missus enough of them.” He added knowingly. “Only way to keep ‘em in line.”

“Shows you care enough for ’em, too.” Another said. “They makes out that there isn’t enough for food ‘cause we stop for a pint or two on the way home from work.”

“So you think she’s … got some bloke from around here?” Clancy asked.

“I heared she has a past, you know, from Boston. Maybe the good Father had to keep her from going back. Y’ know bring the hand of God to bare.”

“The priest? Nah.”

“Remember Father Peterson. Coached us in hockey one year. Man, he wouldn’t hesitate to give any of a good kick in the arse if we didn’t do what we was told. He didn’t care if was orange or mick either. We have more bruises from him than we ever got on the ice.”

“Yeh, but that was b’ys.”

“Doesn’t matter to me now. Who cares how they treat their women. I only want them at the mine to play fair by us.” the first guy said. “No more playing favourites with the micks. Right Birk.”

“What?” Birk had been listening but not paying heed. From where he and Clancy stood they had a clear view through the window of Lillian standing by the tea trolly.

“You happy getting left in the pit while that Manny O’Dowell gets set up in the rake yard?”

“No!” Getting above ground was the hope of many of the miners. Didn’t matter where they worked or even the work was harder.

“Better get back inside.” Clancy said. “They’re finally getting to the important stuff.”

“Only important stuff is how much strike pay we can expect when we goes out.”

“An if there’s enough tea left for us.” 

When they went back in Birk saw that Blackie had arrived. Men were standing to ask questions about the strike or make statements of their particular concerns.

Jim jabbed him the ribs and whispered. “Say something about playing favourites.”

Birk stood. All eyes the room where on him. He feet got hot and he was slightly dizzy. He didn’t recognize his own voice as he spoke and when he finished he didn’t even know what he had said.

“Good on ye, lad. That’ll get those micks in a stir.” Jim said.

There were angry responses from the other side of the room. If there was an answer from any of the speakers to what he said he didn’t hear them. He did hear Seldon from the company store say there’d be no credit if they wasn’t working. When Father Patrick forced them to say the Our Father again he got up walked out with Blackie and Clancy.

The rest of the men followed shortly.

“Blackie!” one of the men shouted out. “You better be careful walking to work these mornings. Man could slip in the mud and hurt hisself.”

“Gerry Dunlop, if you show yourself on our side of town I’m not the only one’ll beat the crap out of you.” Blackie replied to the laugher of some of the men. “That is if there’s any o’you left that wife gets through beatin’ you.”

“We have to stand together.” someone else said.

“If you want a mine to come back to when this strike is settled you better stay out of my way and let us engineers do our job.” Birk and Clancy followed Blackie as he walked on.

A handful of dirt showered them. It was quickly followed by rocks and clods of grass. The three men stopped and turned to face the whom ever was behind them.

“Manny didn’t you get enough on the Dingle t’other time?” Birk raised his fists.

Manny was with several of the Catholic miners. The gang took a step back.

Blackie pulled Birk’s arms down. One of the men stepped past Manny to take a swing. Blackie reach out and the the man’s fist and held it in his hand.

“Look son.” Blackie said as he squeezed the man’s fist. “This isn’t how we stand together. Same goes for the rest of you.” He let go of the man’s hand

The man stepped away rubbing his fingers.

“Any of you on the midnight stand?” Blackie asked. “You best sober up some .”

The men turned and walked away grumbling.

As Birk walked past the company store he saw that windows had been boarded over. 

“They must have put those up while we were at the meetin’” he said.

“Seldon’s not taking any chances.” Blackie knocked lightly on one of the boards. “Last time we broke in and emptied the place. Casey Thomas was running it in those days. Mean cuss was only to happy to cut us off. The women dragged him out, tore his clothes off and chased him off the pier. Coldest February we remember. Bastard deserved it.”

“What?” Birk said. Blackie was always fairly calm around the house. Nothing his sisters, or even he, ever did unsettled him.

“Yep. Cut off credit, then cut off even selling to those who had cash to pay. Five weeks we’d had enough of no food, no coal to heat our houses in February. After we smashed into the store they brought in the troops.”

“From where. The base in Sydney?”

“Some, but mostly from the mainland. Too many in Sydney had kin here.”

“Y’ went to back to work with rifles on you?” Clancy asked.

“Pretty much. We didn’t get what we wanted and had to go back with less than we started out with.”

“Same as now?” Birk spat.

“Uh huh. Not before we did a bit of damage mind you. But not as much as they did riding their horses into the crowds in the Bay. We were marching on the mine office and they charged at us. Snipers on the roofs picked off a couple of guys, wounding them. Then church was getting out at the same time so those got caught up in things too.”

“The micks?” Birk snickered.

“Some. Most of the people that got hurt had nothing to do with the strike. That ended it. Priest then told all his congregation they better get back to work or go to Hell. They went and the rest of us had no choice but to follow.”

“This time’ll be different.” Clancy said.

“How’s that.” Blackie asked.

“What I hear is the the guys in the steel plant might go out in sympathy with us. That’ll bring things to a halt.”

“Don’t count it.” Blackie said. “Government won’t stand for that for long.”

“Lest we don’t have to worry about keeping warm.” Birk said pulling off his jacket and unbuttoning his shirt. “Can’t remember a hotter summer.”

They came to the lane that lead to their house.

“I’m goin’ to drop down to the boilers before I go to bed. All this talk makes me a little fearful.”

“You think they’d so something to them do ya?”

“Nah, but best to be sure or I won’t sleep right tonight.”

Blackie kept on his way. 

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License

Hey! Now you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy ice-cream in Washington at 2019’s capfireslam.org – sweet,eh? paypal.me/TOpoet

Lillian Bakes Revenge

Coal Dusters

Chapter XXII

Lillian Bakes Revenge

Lillian watched the two young miners walk down the lane. What would life be to have a day with nothing pressing to worry about? From their reaction, the bruise on her cheek must appear much worse than she thought. Without a mirror she had no way to tell how bad it looked. It was tender to her touch. She hoped it would be there  for a while as a reminder to her uncle.

During the night, between fitful moments of sleep, she was caught up in thoughts of what to do. Miss O’Dowell had offered a refuge but that wasn’t the escape Lillian wanted. What was she going to do there? Become a house drudge to some local family? She could return to Boston but would her family allow or even welcome her back? How could she afford passage home? She wasn’t going to beg anyone for funds.

In the house she wrapped the broken pieces of the mirror in newspaper before putting them into the dustbin. One shard was large enough for her to see how bruised she was. It covered most of her left cheek and was darkest on the cheekbone. Her eyelids were darkened and her left eye was redder. Much redder than the right eye. She touched it but there was only tenderness but little pain. The bone was solid. There were no fragments she should sense.

Her Uncle would have to pay for this. It was bad enough to be banished here but this wasn’t penance. It was suffering. This was …. an abomination. Yes, that’s what the Bible called things that were an offence to God. She couldn’t recall if striking a woman was included in that Leviticus list, but if it wasn’t it should be. Yes, her uncle would have to suffer for his actions, too. Even if he was a man of God he had no right to mete out such punishment. None.

Later in the afternoon her uncle came into the house.

“Lillian?” he said meekly as he stood in the kitchen door.

“Yes Father Patrick.” she kept her back to him as she washed potatoes in the sink.

“I trust you had a productive day?”

“Yes, Father Pat.” She merely glanced over her shoulder. “I did the washing. I’ll be bringing it in soon. Then there be the ironing, of course. Dinner will be ready at the usual time. There will be rabbit thanks to one of the parishioners.”

“I wish to say once again that I deeply regret …”

“Think nothing of it.” She turned then, knowing the full sun would be on her face.

“I …” he gasped. “I didn’t know that I had injured you that severely. Should I have the doctor visit?”

“No, Uncle. I will be fine.”

“I remember that you do have some hats with a veil. You will wear one when attending mass. I wouldn’t want my parishioners to see you looking thusly.”

“I may have something suitable. The black one you liked?” A hat she abhorred when he said he liked it because it wasn’t too frivolous but she could absent-mindedly remove it, or possibly forget it, the next time she attended mass.

“Very good. I received word from Mr. Gregory,  that there would be another of those union meetings at St Agatha’s Hall this evening. In all likelihood there will be a strike.”

“A strike?”

“Yes, miners across the Island have voted to stop working because of these recent company changes to the tonnage rates.”
“Yes, but how will a strike help their cause?”

“If they stop producing coal the company will have nothing to sell.”

“But can’t the company hire other miners?”

“They won’t, at first. They will save some capital by not having to pay the miners. They also have stockpiles of coal that will satisfy their customers for a some weeks. No, the miners are not in as strong a bargaining position as they think.” 

“Oh. I can’t say as I fully understand all this union and company conflict. I do know the miners find it hard to feed their families though.”

“That has always been the way of the world. Jesus says ‘For ye have the poor always with you.’”

“Didn’t He also say that they would inherit the earth?” she asked.

“Not exactly. He said ‘the meek shall inherit.’ These people are far from being meek, my dear.”

“Shall I prepare some refreshments for the meeting?”

“Yes. I think an urn of tea and some biscuits will be adequate. The women will provide some food as well, so be restrained with the biscuits.”

“Am I to serve tea as I did at the last gathering in the hall?”

“I think not. Not with your …” He brushed his own cheek.

“Yes. Wearing a veil to serve tea might attract attention.” She laughed as a plan formulated quickly in her mind. “But I do have cosmetics in my trunk that would easily cover this. I believe the corner in the hall we usually use to serve tea isn’t that well illuminated.”

“Cosmetics?”

“Yes.” she longed to get at her toiletries, particularly to the hand lotions, if it wasn’t too late to reverse the damage that had been done to her hands. “May I try?”

“Very well.” Father Pat said reluctantly. “We can’t confine you to the house.”

Lillian dashed to the cellar where her trunk was stored and eagerly opened it. The damp that rose from it made her want to hang her remaining dresses before they become too mildewed to wear. She tugged her cosmetics case out and brought it up to the kitchen.

She put it on the table and opened it.

“I can use this as base.” She took out her hand mirror and a jar of face cream. Opening the jar brought back a clear memory of her Boston life. She spread the cream over the bruise. “Then,” she opened a container of pale rose talc. “I pat some of this on over it.”

She dabbed at her face with the pale blue power puff. The smell also brought back nights of preparing to dine, to go out to visit with her friends.

“Amazing?” her uncle said. “It is as if I …” he stopped and looked away.

“Yes, it is.” Lillian couldn’t quite believe her eyes either. The bruised cheek appeared redder than the other but the bruise itself was almost unseeable.

“Very well, you can serve the tea this evening. I’ll go now to make sure the hall is ready for the meeting. I don’t think the venting windows have been opened since the last rain storm.”

When her uncle left she stepped out of the dim kitchen into the sun. In the direct light the disfigurement didn’t look as bad in the mirror but it was still visible. She tried a bit of pink rouge and another few dabs of the power puff and it became much less distinct. If her uncle thought her devious then she would prove to him that she was.

Humming to herself she breezed through her household chores. She caught herself singing while dusting the the chairs in the dining room. She couldn’t wait to see her uncle’s reaction if her plan unfolded as she hoped.

For dinner she had prepared the rabbit with spring potatoes. She was grateful that the parishioner who donated the rabbit had also cleaned and gutted it. A job she had done twice now with reluctance. She had found the smell of the blood impossible to clean off her hands.

She made sure the house would smell of baking bread as well. Suppers would be eaten in the dining room. The one meal of the day her Uncle said a family should eat together.

As she was taking the bread out of the oven her Uncle came in the back door.

“You have had a productive day, Lillian?” her uncle asked.

Over the weeks she come to hate his questions. It was his way of checking on her, to make sure she was learning whatever it was she was to learn about being a good Catholic woman, one that might make a good wife for the right man.

“Yes uncle. I even had time to bake some bread fresh for this evening.”

“I told you we would be serving them biscuits with the tea.”

“The bread is cheaper.”

“Hum.” Father Pat nodded. “Quite right.”

“Were you of service at the church office?” She had learned this was the best way to have him tell her a bit of what he did during the day.

“Yes. After I saw too it that the women did the cleaning of the hall, I went to my office there and have been writing a sermon on the importance of honest work, of how difficult it can be to balance one’s energies between spiritual and material demands. In this way I trust I can prepare the congregation for the hardships to come if there a strike.”

“You can’t tell them not to strike?”

“Not directly. God’s will is for his children to be happy. I can tell them how to do that spiritually, but it is not fitting for me to go any further than that.”

“You can tell them what the Scriptures say about the evil of drink but you cannot tell them not to drink.” 

“Yes.”

“They are unhappy as things are and will be unhappy if they try to change them by striking.”

“Quite perspective of you Lillian. I doubt if they will be happy once they get their way. The solution to their bodily hunger is spiritual not material. If they satisfy that spiritual need they are sure to receive the sustenance they need.”

“Until then we have bread for them.” she forced herself to sound cheerful. Would her revenge bring her happiness or not.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International LicenseHey! Now you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy ice-cream in Washington at 2019’s capfireslam.org – sweet,eh? paypal.me/TOpoet