Bérmunkás, 1937. január-június (25. évfolyam, 926-951. szám)
1937-05-22 / 946. szám
8 oldal BÉRMUNKÁS 1937 május 22. Junior Column THE SQUIRRELS SAT DOWN (A SEQUEL TO “THE SQUIRREL’S REBBELLION.”) Many generation had passed since the overthrowing of Fuzzy Face, the squirrel capitalist. Different stages of prosperity had occured in the squirrel colony. But, like weeds, Capitalism cannot really be stamped out unless vigilance is maintained. There is always present in society some individuals who desire to rise above the common crowd to hold power. Power that will enable them to bend others to their will. Such a squirrel was Strong Paw. Part of his power was inherited and the rest he got by exploiting the other squirrels. Conditions were quite bad again in the colony as wages were low for the nut gatherers who comprised most of the workers. Much talk and grumbling was in the air. Even mentions of striking were to be heard. In a strong, well furnished tree, Strong Paw and another squirrel are sqeaking. “Now Blabbo,” says Strong Paw, “the squirrels are getteing a bit dissatisfied with their wages lately. If I raise their wage, it would be all right for a little while, but the same thing would happen again. What the workers really want is a chance to have power. They want to be in a position to dictate to me regarding their wages and hours. You, Blabbo, will give them that power. But the dumb fools will not know that I am controlling their power thru you. I want you to start a union — call it anything — “Association of Forest Laborers” will do. Hold strikes and everything when I tell you to, thatl’ll quiet them for a long time.” Blabbo thought it a fine idea, yes indeed, and would get the union organized at once. Soon the canny politician had gathered about him a group of squirrels who all are listening intently to his speech. “Fellow Squirrels,” he shouts, “Year in and year out, you toil away your lives, and what do you get in return? — just a squallid, meager existence. Fellow Squirrels, shake off your shackles of bondage by joining our union the Association of Forest Laborers.” The squirrels had been suffering a long time and consequently were easily persuaded to enter the AofFL. Time tottered on. Till came the moment when enough members were in the union to accomplish something. In the great outdoor auditorium of the forest a mass meeting was held. At the psychological moment when the multitude was keyed to a nervous pitch, Blabbo majestically stepped forth upon the Large tree trunk platform. “Fellow Squirrels,” he cried, “the hour to strike has come! Tommorrow, at high noon, everybody in the nut groves will stop work. But, instead of leaving the job, you are to stay with it. A sit-down strike!” Imediately, a tremendous uproar was created in the meeting and lusty shouts of “hooray for the AofFL” rent the air. Blabbo continued, “Then, Fellow Squirrels, when Strong Paw sees us in all our solidarity, he will come meekly to our feet. It may take a few days or weeks, but we will win. Just leave everything to the union. Remember that — the AofFL will handle everything. The success of this fight depends on your carrying out our instructions.” Accordingly, as planned, the strike was carried out quite successfully. Very few squirrel were hisitant about “sitting down.” Everything to win, and only a job to lose, was their idea of it all. They Proceeded to prepare for a long stay by stocking up with food and water. Various games such as nut husking and wrestling were scheduled to while away the long hours. On the morning of the next day, an extra edition of the “Nutty News” was put out, proclaiming in headline type, that Strong Paw refused to have anything to do with any union. But the strikers kept on. They were fighting for their bread and butter which same article is any living creature’s strongest necessity from birth to death. When the strike was in the beginning of the third week, Blabbo was again summoned to grace the presence of the capitalist. Said he, “Well, Blabbo, I think it’s about time we get this matter settled and resume work again. The Hickory region is sending lots of orders for shipment of nuts. We can’t waste too much time and money on this strike, you know. Now, I’ll draw up an agreement which you are supposed to have made. Present it to me publically this afternoon. I’ll do a bit of grumbling and have some minor provisions changed. Then I accept it. Simple, isn’t than having some radical union from outside organise the squirrels and maybe cause some trouble for me? And besides, we make a little money on the side from the union dues.” As per schedule, the public meeing of the union “organizer” and the capitalist took place. The aforementioned hemming and hawing was gone thru. Shortly after, the sitdowners recieved notice to stop the strike — that everything was settled fine and dandy. A copy of the agreement was given to them. It stated in brief: “The Nut Industries, Limited, hereby makes this agreement with the “AofFL” in behalf of its employees: 1. The NIL recognizes the Association of Forest Laborers as its sole bargaining agency. 2. Promise is given by the Company not to deal with any other union for any purpose whatsoever. 3. All grievances of the employees with the Company will be settled by a committee, the members of which will be selected by Company and union officials. 4. The union promises not to hold strikes for a period of two years, unless all other means of reconciliation fail.” Triumphantly marching out of the nut grovers, the squirrels Came, with Blabbo leading them. “Well,” they said to each other, “we brought the “old man” down to our feet. Good ol’ AofFL.” Work was resumed almost immadiately and the forest was humming with activity. And a feeling of security began to envelop them. After all, weren’t they in a union? No boss would get the thumb screws on them any more. After a time, however, some situation such as speeding of work and mistreatment caused workers to complain to the committee: Which whereupon assured them that a thorough investigation would be made. Nothing, tho, came of it. Again and again complaints were made to the committee. Finally,, a wage cut made them decide that something was wrong. Some of the squirrels said, “Guess we’ll have to give the ol’ man another lesson. Have to hold another sit-down.” But when Blabbo was asked about it, he told them the agreement was not to hold strikes for a period of two years. They could however, present their claims before the committee and have the difficulties ironed out. But the squirrels, having had experience with the committee, knew it would do no good. In the privacy of a tree, several squirrels were discussing the situation. “Unions are no good,” muttered one disgusted squirrel. But an older one thought that wasn’t quite true. “For,” said he, “in my younger days when I was afflicted with the urge to travel, I came across a union whose members call themselves “Wobblies.” It is very different from the AofFL, for, instead of the orders being handed down by the officials of the union, the members themselves controled and decided the affairs of the union. So, you see, there are good unions and bad unions.” This was new stuff to most of the squirrels and they became quite interested. “Er — ah, where did you say this union was?,” asked one squirrel. “In the north western forest, and if you happen to be wandering in that direction, you, could stop in and have a little talk with some of the organizers there.” “You mean I should bring—” began the squirrel, but left off when he became astouned' at the greatness of the idea. The old squirrel merely gave a sly wink and promptly curled up in a corner of the nest, confident that he had been instrumental in putting a fighting spirit into the minus of the Younger generation. A due period of the elapses, at the end of which we find Strong Paw in his tree office anxiously and angrily pacing forth and back. He had sent for Blabbo who now entered. “Blabbo,” the capitalist burst out, “what’s the idea of holding a sit-down strike without my permission? Here I am under a pile of orders and you hold a strike. Stop it at once!” “But you don’t understand.” Replied the politician. “I did try to stop them when I heard about is, but they won’t.” “What do you mean won’t stop — aren’t you the head of the union? Sure you are — get, them back to work.” “But—But I’m not the head of it any more,” stuttered Blabbo, “you see, they brought some organizers from the northwestern forest and got up another union — Wobblies I think they call it.” “The Wob............!” Strong Paw exploded. Then, completely bewildered, he fell back in his great overstuffed chair — The very picture of dejection. “Blabbo,” he managed to blurt out, “we’re sunk!” By — J. S. AZ AKCIÓ BIZOTTSÁGHOZ CSATLAKOZTAK: J. Nagy, Astoria............. 1.00 Z. Zatykó, Astoria......... 1.00 F. Dobler, Bridgeport..... 1.00 St. Fazekas, Bridgeport—. 1.00 J. Herold, Bridgeport..... 1.00 G. Vaszkó, New York..... 1.00 J. Nagy, New York....... 1.00 J. Németh, New York—. 1.00 M. Stefánkó, New York.. 1.00 L. Fishbein, New York.. 1.00 M. Vlasits, New York.. 1.00 Szabó M. Williamston....... 5.00 L. Rost, Phila................... 1.00 Emil May, Cleveland....... 2.00 J. Policsányi, Triadelphia 1.00 Paul Pika, Chicago ......„... 1.00 M. Fekete, Coraopolis..... 2.00 L. S. Prekop, Coraopolis 1.00 Mary Lefkovits,Cleveland 2.00 L. Lefkovits, Cleveland.. 2.00 J. Katona, Preston........... 1.00 J. Kollár, Cleveland.....!. 1.00 G. Kuhn, Solon................ 1.00 A. Kissák, New York....... 1.00 E. J. Havel, Garfield...... 3.00 A. Refy, Lodi................... 1.00 P. Bokor, Chicago........... 1.00 S. Buckovszky, Berwyn.... 1.00 S. Török, Chicago........... 1.00 J. Zára, Chicago............... 1.00 Olvasás után adja lapunkat szomszédjának
