“Me? 1.14 a day.”
“And some travelling allowance as well?”
“With that it comes to about 2.30 a day. So I’m mighty thankful for days like this.”
“You mean because going like this, on and on with nothing to eat or drink, you can save all that, eh?”
“Now you’re being funny again,” said Soroku, laughing.
“But don’t you reckon that when they drive you like this, you deserve at least 2.30 extra? I’ve heard that those damned engineers, who don’t do a stroke, get travelling allowances of 10 or 20 yen a day. The more I think of it the more I get fed up of this whole damned world.”
“You’re right,” said Soroku, lowering his voice. “All of us fellows are treated rotten, and of course we want to do something about it, and some of the fellows talk about forming some sort of a union. But I think you’ve got to turn it over a lot before deciding—because if you go and get fired for it where will you find another job? In Tokyo the unemployed are already at one another’s throats for jobs.”
“But if it wasn’t for us. I’d like to know who’d mend the breakdowns?”
“But for all that we only get a rise of two sen or three sen or, in rare cases, four sen a day each year. They sure make fools of us.” As Soroku spoke he remembered something else. “The other day at the Cultural Club some guy was spouting away about that linesmen were of great national importance and that they had some grand
