bullied and slugged. I couldn't see any dignity at all. And when
a workman got old, or had an accident, he was thrown into the
scrap-heap like any worn-out machine. I saw too many of this sort
who were making anything but dignified ends of life.

So my new concept was that manual labour was undignified, and that
it didn't pay. No trade for me, was my decision, and no
superintendent's daughters. And no criminality, I also decided.
That would be almost as disastrous as to be a labourer. Brains
paid, not brawn, and I resolved never again to offer my muscles
for sale in the brawn market. Brain, and brain only, would I
sell.

I returned to California with the firm intention of developing my
brain. This meant school education. I had gone through the
grammar school long ago, so I entered the Oakland High School. To
pay my way I worked as a janitor. My sister helped me, too; and I
was not above mowing anybody's lawn or taking up and beating
carpets when I had half a day to spare. I was working to get away
from work, and I buckled down to it with a grim realisation of the
paradox.

Boy and girl love was left behind, and, along with it, Haydee and
Louis Shattuck, and the early evening strolls. I hadn't the time.
I joined the Henry Clay Debating Society. I was received into the
homes of some of the members, where I met nice girls whose skirts
reached the ground. I dallied with little home clubs wherein we
discussed poetry and art and the nuances of grammar. I joined the
socialist local where we studied and orated political economy,
philosophy, and politics. I kept half a dozen membership cards