n his neck, could sit
without seeing people edge away and look annoyed? He had, of course,
his corner in a close though unheated room, with a window opening upon
a blank wall two feet away; and also he had the bare streets, with
the winter gales sweeping through them; besides this he had only the
saloons--and, of course, he had to drink to stay in them. If he drank
now and then he was free to make himself at home, to gamble with dice or
a pack of greasy cards, to play at a dingy pool table for money, or to
look at a beer-stained pink "sporting paper," with pictures of murderers
and half-naked women. It was for such pleasures as these that he spent
his money; and such was his life during the six weeks and a half that he
toiled for the merchants of Chicago, to enable them to break the grip of
their teamsters' union.

In a work thus carried out, not much thought was given to the welfare of
the laborers. On an average, the tunneling cost a life a day and several
manglings; it was seldom, however, that more than a dozen or two men
heard of any one accident. The work was all done by the new boring
machinery, with as little blasting as possible; but there would be
falling rocks and crushed supports, and premature explosions--and in
addition all the dangers of railroading. So it was that one night, as
Jurgis was on his way out with his gang, an engine and a loaded car
dashed round one of the innumerable right-angle branches and struck him
upon the shoulder, hurling him against the concrete wall and knocking
him senseless.

When he opened his eyes again it was to the clanging of the bell of
an ambulance. He was lying in it, covered by a blanket, and it was
threading its way slowly through the holiday-shopping crowds. They took
him to the county hospital, where a young surgeon set his arm; then he
was washed and laid upon a bed in a ward with a score or two more of
maimed and mangled men.

Jurgis spent his Christmas in this hospital, and it was the pleasantest
Christmas he had had in America. Every year there were scandals and
investigations in this institution, the newspapers charging that doctors
were allowed to try fantastic experiments upon the patients; but Jurgis
knew nothing of this--his only complaint was that they used to feed him
upon tinned meat, which no man who had ever worked in Packingtown would
feed to his dog. Jurgis had often wondered just who ate the canned
corned beef and "roast beef" of the stockyards; now