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----- {{tjbusp349.jpg}} || The Jungle ||


charge of the raid. "Billy," she said, pointing to Jurgis,
"there's a fellow who came in to see his sister. He'd just
got in the door when you knocked. You aren't taking
hoboes, are you?"

The sergeant laughed as he looked at Jurgis. "Sorry,"
he said, "but the orders are everyone but the servants."

So Jurgis slunk in among the rest of the men, who kept
dodging behind each other like sheep that have smelt
a wolf. There were old men and young men, college boys
and graybeards old enough to be their grandfathers; some
of them wore evening-dress -- there was no one among
them save Jurgis who showed any signs of poverty.

When the round-up was completed, the doors were
opened and the party marched out. Three patrol-wagons
were drawn up at the curb, and the whole neighborhood
had turned out to see the sport; there was much chaffing,
and a universal craning of necks. The women stared
about them with defiant eyes, or laughed and joked, while
the men kept their heads bowed, and their hats pulled over
their faces. They were crowded into the patrol-wagons as
if into street-cars, and then off they went amid a din of
cheers. At the station-house Jurgis gave a Polish name
and was put into a cell with half a dozen others; and
while these sat and talked in whispers, he lay down in a
corner and gave himself up to his thoughts.

Jurgis had looked into the deepest reaches of the social
pit, and grown used to the sights in them. Yet when
he had thought of all humanity as vile and hideous, he had
somehow always excepted his own family, that he had
loved; and now this sudden horrible discovery -- Marija
a whore, and Elzbieta and the children living off her
shame! Jurgis might argue with himself all he chose, that
he had done worse, and was a fool for caring -- but still
he could not get over the shock of that sudden un~
veiling, he could not help being sunk in grief because of it.
The depths of him were troubled and shaken, memories
were stirred in him that had been sleeping so long he had
counted them dead. Memories of the old life -- his old
hopes and his old yearnings, his old dreams of decency and


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