To the
last, Dan Cullen's soul must be harrowed by the sordidness out of which
it strove vainly to rise.
It is a brief little story, the story of Dan Cullen, but there is much to
read between the lines. He was born lowly, in a city and land where the
lines of caste are tightly drawn. All his days he toiled hard with his
body; and because he had opened the books, and been caught up by the
fires of the spirit, and could "write a letter like a lawyer," he had
been selected by his fellows to toil hard for them with his brain. He
became a leader of the fruit-porters, represented the dockers on the
London Trades Council, and wrote trenchant articles for the labour
journals.
He did not cringe to other men, even though they were his economic
masters, and controlled the means whereby he lived, and he spoke his mind
freely, and fought the good fight. In the "Great Dock Strike" he was
guilty of taking a leading part. And that was the end of Dan Cullen.
From that day he was a marked man, and every day, for ten years and more,
he was "paid off" for what he had done.
A docker is a casual labourer. Work ebbs and flows, and he works or does
not work according to the amount of goods on hand to be moved.
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