PARTISAN REVIEW
to the men in the shop. All through the trade it was known
that the Pretifit Company had the best mechanics in the city.
But the Toporovs harassed the workers every minute. On the
pretext that this stitch or that seam was poorly made they
brought many coats back to the operators and they had to be
ripped open and sewed again.
Finally, the operators complained. "'rVe do nothing but sew
lnd rip, rip and sew. When Friday comes the pay envelope
has twenty dollars. Take a pay like that to your wIfe, she'd
turn her face to the wall, maybe kick you out of bed alto–
gether.
The bosses kept buying more stock on Wall Street. They
bought another hotel, too, this one in Lakewood.
It
was a white
colonial house draped in shrubs and pines. They still came
into the shop drunk and they spoke of their experiences in the
speakeasies.
Early in the Spring season in
193
I,
in the twentieth year of
the Pretifit Company, the workers stood with downcast faces.
The machines were covered with greasy aprons. There was not
a single bundle on the floor. Nothing but the dreary walls to
look at. The bosses told them work would not begin unless
they advanced more money. What had happened to the original
investment, none had dared ask. They looked at one another,
seeking escape through each others eyes. Two weeks wages
were still due frcm last season and their families were hungry.
The workers gathered around the fitters' table shivering
in their tattered overcoats, their hands stuck in their sleeves.
The bosses chatted in the office. Max pace up and down the
length of the shop, his face clouded with anger. He stopped
before the bloodless operators, looked contemptuously at them,
and puffed heavily at his pipe.
"Why are you silent ?," he blurted suddenly. "Are your
tongues paralyzed?"
The old guard approached him. "Max, let's try to iron out
things. Maybe we can still revive the shop. Suppose we try to
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