Jimmie Higgins
found that he had seventeen cents. It was a long way to his home, so he would step round the corner and have a cup of coffee and a couple of “sinkers” at “Tom's”. He first conscientiously asked if anybody needed anything, and Comrade Mabel Smith told him to hurry back to help her put out the leaflets on the seats, and Comrade Meissner would need help in arranging the chairs on the stage.     

       III.     

       When you went from the Leesville Opera-house and turned West in Main Street, you passed Heinz's Cafe, which was a “swell” eating-place, and not       for Jimmie; and then the “Bijou Nickelodeon”, with a mechanical piano in the entrance; and the “Bon Marche Shoe Store”, which was always having a fire-sale or a removal sale or a bankruptcy clearing-out; and then Lipsky's “Picture Palace”, with a brown and yellow cowboy galloping away with a red and yellow maiden in his arms; then Harrod's “Fancy Grocery” on the corner. And in each of these places there was a show-card in the window, with a picture of the Candidate, and the announcement that on Sunday evening, at eight o'clock, he would speak at the Leesville Opera-house on “War, the Reason and the Remedy”. Jimmie Higgins looked at the cards, and a dignified yet joyful pride stirred in his bosom; for all of them were there because he, Jimmie, had interviewed the proprietors and obtained their more or less reluctant consent.     

       Jimmie knew that on this Sunday, in cities all over Germany, Austria, Belgium, France and England, the workers were gathering by millions and tens of millions, to protest against the red horror of war being let loose over their heads. And in America too—a call would go from the new world to the old, that the workers should rise and carry out their pledge to prevent this crime against mankind. He, Jimmie Higgins, had no voice that anybody would heed; but he had helped to bring the people of his city to hear a man who had a voice, and who would show the meaning of this world-crisis to the working-people.     

       It was the party's Candidate for President. At this time only congressional elections were pending, but this man had been Candidate for President so often that every one thought of him in that role. You might say that each of his campaigns lasted four years; he travelled from one end of the land to the other, and counted by the millions those who heard his burning, bitter message. It had 
 Prev. P 7/265 next 
Back Top
Privacy Statement Terms of Service Contact