CHAPTER XXVIII YETTA TAKES HOLD

But if Yetta did not think her work mattered very much, Isadore and Rheinhardt and Paulding and all those who had the welfare of The Clarion at heart thought very differently about it. Gradually she transformed the labor page into a vital force in the trade-union world.

Organized labor is fighting out the same problem in democracy which our larger community is facing. "How shall elected delegates be made to represent their constituents?" The rank and file of workers cannot attend all the meetings of their central organizations any more than we can spend all our time in watching Congress. Labor bosses, like political crooks, love darkness. Yetta, taking a suggestion from the progressive magazines, turned the light of publicity on the weekly meetings of the Central Federated Union. She made the Monday afternoon labor page a verbatim report of the Sunday session. Among the delegates to the C. F. U. there were many fearless, upright men who were as much opposed to gang politics as any insurgent senator at Washington. Yetta knew them from her old work and drew them into a sort of informal Good Government Club. Every day she tried to run some story dealing with this issue of clean politics. More and more the "labor grafters" denounced The Clarion, and more and more their opponents came to rely on it as their greatest ally. The percentage of "crooked" and "straight" among the unionists is about the same as in any church membership. The circulation grew among the honest workers—the vast majority.

Her influence was not confined to her own department. Her experience in the Woman's Trade Union League had made her an expert beggar; more and more she helped Isadore, relieving him of some of the burden of money-raising. This freed more of his time and energy for his page. He listened more docilely to her suggestions about bettering the style of his editorials—adding snap to them—than he had done when Paulding had tried to help him. The improvement was noticeable. During her apprenticeship under Mr. Brace Yetta had absorbed some of his "sense of make-up." Harry Moore often appealed to her judgment. In time The Clarion began to look almost attractive.

One day Yetta's old friend Cowan, the sporting editor of The Star, met her on the street.

"I hear you're working on this Socialist paper," he said. "How goes it?"

"I like it better than The Star," she replied.

"I've looked over some of the copies," he said. "You people aren't handling local news the way you ought to. Why don't you tear the lid off this Subway scandal? I'm not a Socialist. But I hate to see such good stories going to waste."

Yetta rather wearily went over the long story of their limitations. She had learned to recite it as glibly as Isadore or Paulding.