clerks, as they watched them out of the corners of their eyes. Pressed all together into the Overhead, and then emptied out at the station, with nowhere to go, they just mooched about hopelessly. Those with any understanding began to realize for the first time that the work of motormen or conductors was of some importance; until now no one had bothered to realize such a simple fact. Even if they had, they were so wrapped up in their affairs that the mere realization alone would not have achieved much.
In Hinjo district, workmen rushed the cars as if they were storming a citadel. Then, dangling all over the car, like a lot of nails hanging from a magnet, they were borne away. But when five or six other workers, walking along with sharp and steady strides, saw that magnetic car, they thumbed their noses at it and shouted:
“You swine. Have y’got no shame, workers like us to go riding on a scab street-car. Get out and walk, you bastards.”
For two days this went on. Then the third day came, and the situation ceased to be a joke for anyone. It was then the Young Men’s Association, with red badges on the arm of their uniforms, started to man the cars. Not only Arisuke, but one and all wore a proud but strained look, like men who have been picked to make an attack into the enemy’s territory. All the passengers by their manner showed they appreciated their work.
The chief of the City Electric Bureau even wept tears before those crawling worms of the Young Men’s Association. His unexpected behaviour
