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Withonemembertrimmingbeefinacannery,andanotherworkinginasausagefactory,thefamilyhadafirst-handknowledgeofthegreatmajorityofPackingtownswindles.
Foritwasthecustom,astheyfound,whenevermeatwassospoiledthatitcouldnotbeusedforanythingelse,eithertocanitorelsetochopitupintosausage.
WithwhathadbeentoldthembyJonas,whohadworkedinthepicklerooms,theycouldnowstudythewholeofthespoiled-meatindustryontheinside,andreadanewandgrimmeaningintothatoldPackingtownjest—thattheyuseeverythingofthepigexceptthesqueal.
Jonashadtoldthemhowthemeatthatwastakenoutofpicklewouldoftenbefoundsour,andhowtheywouldrubitupwithsodatotakeawaythesmell,andsellittobeeatenonfree-lunchcounters;alsoofallthemiraclesofchemistrywhichtheyperformed,givingtoanysortofmeat,freshorsalted,wholeorchopped,anycolorandanyflavorandanyodortheychose.
Inthepicklingofhamstheyhadaningeniousapparatus,bywhichtheysavedtimeandincreasedthecapacityoftheplant—amachineconsistingofahollowneedleattachedtoapump;byplungingthisneedleintothemeatandworkingwithhisfoot,amancouldfillahamwithpickleinafewseconds.
Andyet,inspiteofthis,therewouldbehamsfoundspoiled,someofthemwithanodorsobadthatamancouldhardlybeartobeintheroomwiththem.
Topumpintothesethepackershadasecondandmuchstrongerpicklewhichdestroyedtheodor—aprocessknowntotheworkersas“givingthemthirtypercent.”
Also,afterthehamshadbeensmoked,therewouldbefoundsomethathadgonetothebad.
Formerlythesehadbeensoldas“NumberThreeGrade,”butlateronsomeingeniouspersonhadhituponanewdevice,andnowtheywouldextractthebone,aboutwhichthebadpartgenerallylay,andinsertintheholeawhite-hotiron.
AfterthisinventiontherewasnolongerNumberOne,Two,andThreeGrade—therewasonlyNumberOneGrade.
Thepackerswerealwaysoriginatingsuchschemes—theyhadwhattheycalled“bonelesshams,”whichwerealltheoddsandendsofporkstuffedintocasings;and“Californiahams,”whichweretheshoulders,withbigknucklejoints,andnearlyallthemeatcutout;andfancy“skinnedhams,”whichweremadeoftheoldesthogs,whoseskinsweresoheavyandcoarsethatnoonewouldbuythem—thatis,untiltheyhadbeencookedandchoppedfineandlabeled“headcheese!”
ItwasonlywhenthewholehamwasspoiledthatitcameintothedepartmentofElzbieta.
Cutupbythetwo-thousand-revolutions-a-minuteflyers,andmixedwithhalfatonofothermeat,noodorthateverwasinahamcouldmakeanydifference.
Therewasnevertheleastattentionpaidtowhatwascutupforsausage;therewouldcomeallthewaybackfromEuropeoldsausagethathadbeenrejected,andthatwasmoldyandwhite—itwouldbedosedwithboraxandglycerine,anddumpedintothehoppers,andmadeoveragainforhomeconsumption.
Therewouldbemeatthathadtumbledoutonthefloor,inthedirtandsawdust,wheretheworkershadtrampedandspituncountedbillionsofconsumptiongerms.
Therewouldbemeatstoredingreatpilesinrooms;andthewaterfromleakyroofswoulddripoverit,andthousandsofratswouldraceaboutonit.
Itwastoodarkinthesestorageplacestoseewell,butamancouldrunhishandoverthesepilesofmeatandsweepoffhandfulsofthedrieddungofrats.
Theseratswerenuisances,andthepackerswouldputpoisonedbreadoutforthem;theywoulddie,andthenrats,bread,andmeatwouldgointothehopperstogether.
Thisisnofairystoryandnojoke;themeatwouldbeshoveledintocarts,andthemanwhodidtheshovelingwouldnottroubletoliftoutaratevenwhenhesawone—therewerethingsthatwentintothesausageincomparisonwithwhichapoisonedratwasatidbit.
Therewasnoplaceforthementowashtheirhandsbeforetheyatetheirdinner,andsotheymadeapracticeofwashingtheminthewaterthatwastobeladledintothesausage.
Therewerethebutt-endsofsmokedmeat,andthescrapsofcornedbeef,andalltheoddsandendsofthewasteoftheplants,thatwouldbedumpedintooldbarrelsinthecellarandleftthere.
Underthesystemofrigideconomywhichthepackersenforced,thereweresomejobsthatitonlypaidtodoonceinalongtime,andamongthesewasthecleaningoutofthewastebarrels.
Everyspringtheydidit;andinthebarrelswouldbedirtandrustandoldnailsandstalewater—andcartloadaftercartloadofitwouldbetakenupanddumpedintothehopperswithfreshmeat,andsentouttothepublic’sbreakfast.
Someofittheywouldmakeinto“smoked”sausage—butasthesmokingtooktime,andwasthereforeexpensive,theywouldcallupontheirchemistrydepartment,andpreserveitwithboraxandcoloritwithgelatinetomakeitbrown.
Alloftheirsausagecameoutofthesamebowl,butwhentheycametowrapittheywouldstampsomeofit“special,”andforthistheywouldchargetwocentsmoreapound.
SuchwerethenewsurroundingsinwhichElzbietawasplaced,andsuchwastheworkshewascompelledtodo.
Itwasstupefying,brutalizingwork;itlefthernotimetothink,nostrengthforanything.
Shewaspartofthemachineshetended,andeveryfacultythatwasnotneededforthemachinewasdoomedtobecrushedoutofexistence.
Therewasonlyonemercyaboutthecruelgrind—thatitgaveherthegiftofinsensibility.
Littlebylittleshesankintoatorpor—shefellsilent.
ShewouldmeetJurgisandOnaintheevening,andthethreewouldwalkhometogether,oftenwithoutsayingaword.
Ona,too,wasfallingintoahabitofsilence—Ona,whohadoncegoneaboutsinginglikeabird.
Shewassickandmiserable,andoftenshewouldbarelyhavestrengthenoughtodragherselfhome.
Andtheretheywouldeatwhattheyhadtoeat,andafterward,becausetherewasonlytheirmiserytotalkof,theywouldcrawlintobedandfallintoastuporandneverstiruntilitwastimetogetupagain,anddressbycandlelight,andgobacktothemachines.
Theyweresonumbedthattheydidnotevensuffermuchfromhunger,now;onlythechildrencontinuedtofretwhenthefoodranshort.
YetthesoulofOnawasnotdead—thesoulsofnoneofthemweredead,butonlysleeping;andnowandthentheywouldwaken,andthesewerecrueltimes.
Thegatesofmemorywouldrollopen—oldjoyswouldstretchouttheirarmstothem,oldhopesanddreamswouldcalltothem,andtheywouldstirbeneaththeburdenthatlayuponthem,andfeelitsforeverimmeasurableweight.
Theycouldnotevencryoutbeneathit;butanguishwouldseizethem,moredreadfulthantheagonyofdeath.
Itwasathingscarcelytobespoken—athingneverspokenbyalltheworld,thatwillnotknowitsowndefeat.
Theywerebeaten;theyhadlostthegame,theyweresweptaside.
Itwasnotlesstragicbecauseitwassosordid,becauseithadtodowithwagesandgrocerybillsandrents.
Theyhaddreamedoffreedom;ofachancetolookaboutthemandlearnsomething;tobedecentandclean,toseetheirchildgrowuptobestrong.
Andnowitwasallgone—itwouldneverbe!
Theyhadplayedthegameandtheyhadlost.
Sixyearsmoreoftoiltheyhadtofacebeforetheycouldexpecttheleastrespite,thecessationofthepaymentsuponthehouse;andhowcruellycertainitwasthattheycouldneverstandsixyearsofsuchalifeastheywereliving!
Theywerelost,theyweregoingdown—andtherewasnodeliveranceforthem,nohope;forallthehelpitgavethemthevastcityinwhichtheylivedmighthavebeenanoceanwaste,awilderness,adesert,atomb.
SooftenthismoodwouldcometoOna,inthenighttime,whensomethingwakenedher;shewouldlie,afraidofthebeatingofherownheart,frontingtheblood-redeyesoftheoldprimevalterroroflife.
Onceshecriedaloud,andwokeJurgis,whowastiredandcross.
Afterthatshelearnedtoweepsilently—theirmoodssoseldomcametogethernow!
Itwasasiftheirhopeswereburiedinseparategraves.
Jurgis,beingaman,hadtroublesofhisown.
Therewasanotherspecterfollowinghim.
Hehadneverspokenofit,norwouldheallowanyoneelsetospeakofit—hehadneveracknowledgeditsexistencetohimself.
Yetthebattlewithittookallthemanhoodthathehad—andonceortwice,alas,alittlemore.Jurgishaddiscovereddrink.
Hewasworkinginthesteamingpitofhell;dayafterday,weekafterweek—untilnow,therewasnotanorganofhisbodythatdiditsworkwithoutpain,untilthesoundofoceanbreakersechoedinhisheaddayandnight,andthebuildingsswayedanddancedbeforehimashewentdownthestreet.
Andfromalltheunendinghorrorofthistherewasarespite,adeliverance—hecoulddrink!
Hecouldforgetthepain,hecouldslipofftheburden;hewouldseeclearlyagain,hewouldbemasterofhisbrain,ofhisthoughts,ofhiswill.
Hisdeadselfwouldstirinhim,andhewouldfindhimselflaughingandcrackingjokeswithhiscompanions—hewouldbeamanagain,andmasterofhislife.
ItwasnotaneasythingforJurgistotakemorethantwoorthreedrinks.
Withthefirstdrinkhecouldeatameal,andhecouldpersuadehimselfthatthatwaseconomy;withthesecondhecouldeatanothermeal—buttherewouldcomeatimewhenhecouldeatnomore,andthentopayforadrinkwasanunthinkableextravagance,adefianceoftheagelonginstinctsofhishunger-hauntedclass.
Oneday,however,hetooktheplunge,anddrankupallthathehadinhispockets,andwenthomehalf“piped,”asthemenphraseit.
Hewashappierthanhehadbeeninayear;andyet,becauseheknewthatthehappinesswouldnotlast,hewassavage,toowiththosewhowouldwreckit,andwiththeworld,andwithhislife;andthenagain,beneaththis,hewassickwiththeshameofhimself.
Afterward,whenhesawthedespairofhisfamily,andreckonedupthemoneyhehadspent,thetearscameintohiseyes,andhebeganthelongbattlewiththespecter.
Itwasabattlethathadnoend,thatnevercouldhaveone.
ButJurgisdidnotrealizethatveryclearly;hewasnotgivenmuchtimeforreflection.
Hesimplyknewthathewasalwaysfighting.
Steepedinmiseryanddespairashewas,merelytowalkdownthestreetwastobeputupontherack.
Therewassurelyasaloononthecorner—perhapsonallfourcorners,andsomeinthemiddleoftheblockaswell;andeachonestretchedoutahandtohimeachonehadapersonalityofitsown,allurementsunlikeanyother.
Goingandcoming—beforesunriseandafterdark—therewaswarmthandaglowoflight,andthesteamofhotfood,andperhapsmusic,orafriendlyface,andawordofgoodcheer.
JurgisdevelopedafondnessforhavingOnaonhisarmwheneverhewentoutonthestreet,andhewouldholdhertightly,andwalkfast.
ItwaspitifultohaveOnaknowofthis—itdrovehimwildtothinkofit;thethingwasnotfair,forOnahadnevertasteddrink,andsocouldnotunderstand.
Sometimes,indespeatehours,hewouldfindhimselfwishingthatshemightlearnwhatitwas,sothatheneednotbeashamedinherpresence.
Theymightdrinktogether,andescapefromthehorror—escapeforawhile,comewhatwould.
SotherecameatimewhennearlyalltheconsciouslifeofJurgisconsistedofastrugglewiththecravingforliquor.
Hewouldhaveuglymoods,whenhehatedOnaandthewholefamily,becausetheystoodinhisway.
Hewasafooltohavemarried;hehadtiedhimselfdown,hadmadehimselfaslave.
Itwasallbecausehewasamarriedmanthathewascompelledtostayintheyards;ifithadnotbeenforthathemighthavegoneofflikeJonas,andtohellwiththepackers.
Therewerefewsinglemeninthefertilizermill—andthosefewwereworkingonlyforachancetoescape.
Meantime,too,theyhadsomethingtothinkaboutwhiletheyworked,—theyhadthememoryofthelasttimetheyhadbeendrunk,andthehopeofthetimewhentheywouldbedrunkagain.
AsforJurgis,hewasexpectedtobringhomeeverypenny;hecouldnotevengowiththemenatnoontime—hewassupposedtositdownandeathisdinneronapileoffertilizerdust.
Thiswasnotalwayshismood,ofcourse;hestilllovedhisfamily.Butjustnowwasatimeoftrial.
PoorlittleAntanas,forinstance—whohadneverfailedtowinhimwithasmile—littleAntanaswasnotsmilingjustnow,beingamassoffieryredpimples.
Hehadhadallthediseasesthatbabiesareheirto,inquicksuccession,scarletfever,mumps,andwhoopingcoughinthefirstyear,andnowhewasdownwiththemeasles.
TherewasnoonetoattendhimbutKotrina;therewasnodoctortohelphim,becausetheyweretoopoor,andchildrendidnotdieofthemeasles—atleastnotoften.
NowandthenKotrinawouldfindtimetosoboverhiswoes,butforthegreaterpartofthetimehehadtobeleftalone,barricadeduponthebed.
Thefloorwasfullofdrafts,andifhecaughtcoldhewoulddie.
Atnighthewastieddown,lestheshouldkickthecoversoffhim,whilethefamilylayintheirstuporofexhaustion.
Hewouldlieandscreamforhours,almostinconvulsions;andthen,whenhewaswornout,hewouldliewhimperingandwailinginhistorment.
Hewasburningupwithfever,andhiseyeswererunningsores;inthedaytimehewasathinguncannyandimpishtobehold,aplasterofpimplesandsweat,agreatpurplelumpofmisery.
Yetallthiswasnotreallyascruelasitsounds,for,sickashewas,littleAntanaswastheleastunfortunatememberofthatfamily.
Hewasquiteabletobearhissufferings—itwasasifhehadallthesecomplaintstoshowwhataprodigyofhealthhewas.
Hewasthechildofhisparents’youthandjoy;hegrewupliketheconjurer’srosebush,andalltheworldwashisoyster.
Ingeneral,hetoddledaroundthekitchenalldaywithaleanandhungrylook—theportionofthefamily’sallowancethatfelltohimwasnotenough,andhewasunrestrainableinhisdemandformore.
Antanaswasbutlittleoverayearold,andalreadynoonebuthisfathercouldmanagehim.
Itseemedasifhehadtakenallofhismother’sstrength—hadleftnothingforthosethatmightcomeafterhim.
Onawaswithchildagainnow,anditwasadreadfulthingtocontemplate;evenJurgis,dumbanddespairingashewas,couldnotbutunderstandthatyetotheragonieswereontheway,andshudderatthethoughtofthem.
ForOnawasvisiblygoingtopieces.Inthefirstplaceshewasdevelopingacough,liketheonethathadkilledoldDedeAntanas.
Shehadhadatraceofiteversincethatfatalmorningwhenthegreedystreetcarcorporationhadturnedheroutintotherain;butnowitwasbeginningtogrowserious,andtowakeherupatnight.
Evenworsethanthatwasthefearfulnervousnessfromwhichshesuffered;shewouldhavefrightfulheadachesandfitsofaimlessweeping;andsometimesshewouldcomehomeatnightshudderingandmoaning,andwouldflingherselfdownuponthebedandburstintotears.
Severaltimesshewasquitebesideherselfandhysterical;andthenJurgiswouldgohalf-madwithfright.
Elzbietawouldexplaintohimthatitcouldnotbehelped,thatawomanwassubjecttosuchthingswhenshewaspregnant;buthewashardlytobepersuaded,andwouldbegandpleadtoknowwhathadhappened.
Shehadneverbeenlikethisbefore,hewouldargue—itwasmonstrousandunthinkable.
Itwasthelifeshehadtolive,theaccursedworkshehadtodo,thatwaskillingherbyinches.
Shewasnotfittedforit—nowomanwasfittedforit,nowomanoughttobeallowedtodosuchwork;iftheworldcouldnotkeepthemaliveanyotherwayitoughttokillthematonceandbedonewithit.
Theyoughtnottomarry,tohavechildren;noworkingmanoughttomarry—ifhe,Jurgis,hadknownwhatawomanwaslike,hewouldhavehadhiseyestornoutfirst.
Sohewouldcarryon,becominghalfhystericalhimself,whichwasanunbearablethingtoseeinabigman;Onawouldpullherselftogetherandflingherselfintohisarms,begginghimtostop,tobestill,thatshewouldbebetter,itwouldbeallright.
Soshewouldlieandsobouthergriefuponhisshoulder,whilehegazedather,ashelplessasawoundedanimal,thetargetofunseenenemies.
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