When I Was a Child: An Autobiographical Novel

Chapter VIII

There was talk of a strike at Ljungdala. The blowers and their assistants demanded higher pay.The unrest spread to neighboring factories. The political tension between Master Sjölin and Elmer Sandin had increased nearly to the bursting-point. Master Sjölin would address his assistant: “You damned sossy!” Master Sjölin himself had been a socialist since , when he had helped organize the first local at Kosta. In  he had gone on strike for suffrage and lost his job for it; it was then that he had moved to Ljungdala. Here, too, he had started a local union, but not all the workers had joined. He hated the Young Socialists, who ruined the chances of success for the decent workers. Their leader, Hinke Bergegren, had been thrown out of the party last year, and at this joyful news Master Sjölin had treated everyone to lousbeer. There was only one leader in the party he respected, a man all workers could trust, a man who knew when to fight and when not to fight: Hjalmar Branting. Master Sjölin knew him personally; they had met at the national conventions, and they were intimate enough to use first names.  chapter viii =' 08chap8_Layout 1 11/22/2013 12:31 Page 103  When I Was a Child One day at lunch Elmer Sandin pulled out a copy of The Firebrand , a weekly for the Young Socialists. While Sjölin sat on his master’s chair and ate his sandwiches and drank his beer, Elmer Sandin read to him: “The People’s Friend Branting. After the opening of a new play a brilliant crowd always gathers in Grand Hotel’s elegant ballroom, where the crystal chandeliers shine as ostentatiously as they do in the Royal Palace. In thousands of workers’homes a piece of bread is divided among hungry children,but in these lofty chambers the participants drink sparkling wines and chilled champagne.And in this assemblage can always be found the editor of the Social-Democrat, Hjalmar Branting, with his wife, washing down the day’s tribulations with sparkling champagne.In these glittering salons there is no shortage of liquors,flowers,or life’s abundance and there is ever present ‘the people’s friend’ with his silk- and jewelry-bedecked ‘queen’ who insists on being brought to the table by some minister or foreign diplomat.‘The people’s friend,’ Mr. Branting, and his‘queen’—” Master Sjölin jumped up from his chair, his face red, his shiny skull scarlet.“Gimme that rotten sheet!” He jerked the Firebrand from the assistant and crumpled and squashed the paper into a ball, which he jammed into his pocket; he would use it as it deserved to be used the next time he needed to go out. Sandin was taken by surprise, but he said proudly: “Forceful actions are no arguments. Nor are insults.” A piece of bread stuck in Sjölin’s throat in his excitement. He coughed and cleared his throat.“Forceful actions! What about the dynamite the sossies have used to blow up factories! What kind of argument is that?” Master Sjölin’s whole head was so red that Valter feared it might burst into flames. The lunch hour was ended and the blowing 08chap8_Layout 1 11/22/2013 12:31 Page 104 c ha p t e r v i i i  commenced again, but the master did not forget what his assistant had been reading about Branting; Sandin was unable to do anything right for him that day; however anxious he was to please, the master would find fault and yell at him: “See what you did! You sossy bastard! You and your ilk should work in hell!” Sandin worked as if nothing had happened, but a fire glowed in his eyes which all recognized.Valter did not dislike Sjölin, who was perhaps the kindest of the masters, though a little short-tempered. But Valter’s feelings were with Sandin; all Young Socialists who fought the fight of freedom must suffer abuse. This they all understood , and no one was surprised.Valter was among the persecuted, and he wanted to be among them. Sandin had told him: Only the important ones were hated and reviled. Elmer Sandin had thick, black, curly hair that fell in soft waves over his ears. He had the longest hair of anyone in the factory, and bald-headed Master Sj...