◆ SpookStack

order of the day. And setf-confidence, he 1 how he fooled the House Cr ‘ttee. He wore hie perjury ike @ a =. on his chest, proof positive that he wes, indeed, © good and loyal Communist, deserving of the highest? considerstion. Brecht's postwar career in Commun- lst Germany is of the.greai suc- coms stories to the Reds point with pride. He is feted and innumerable honors ere showered on him. He is olso @ rick man by loco! stonderds, earning @ lot from the royalties on his bit plays. Rut the paper Marks of Red Ger- mony can't compare with Americon greenbocks, The reol money can be ie oniy in the United Stotes. And, ia America. . His pley, the “Three in ” is en off. yy smeon, playing to copecity audiences in @ Greenwich Village theater. Albums and single re- cordings of the pley are selling like hotcakes. And now comes the top bononze — the freak success of the play's theme tund which, with milfions of Americans singing Ht, does little to suggest that the enthusiasm benefits one of the enemies of the United States. Those millions who help “Mack the Knife" te wweh unexpected success should remember Bert Brecht, the mon smirking behind the hit tune. Aad they should bear la mind thot the knife in thet song is really a dagger with which Brecht is stebbing them in the back. feel superior or something if he feals Rke going a. he has @ second girl con tokes her with him. But af doesn't do anything with hi is finished ot eleven o'claci goes home to bed. Hes to gei 80 he'lt be on the ball with watching next day. Both gir! — &e more, We hess. He & presents for them; but he o them any mere money. Sea matter of principle. a There era otways pleaty around whe want « girl fil work for them, guys like Mich. the oleo heir off the comme looded, ono they'll take care But ! never had anything to « them. Once a gic! gets hooked one of them, they take ail th end kick her round. Anyway, ( con take core of ‘One night I went over to o hot: to meet o very wealthy Joh: why Hezel and said somebody'd gh her number. te was must of weighed about @ ton. - disgusting type. i rold him the ha 2, t wosn't going te have him me. So then the big lout stor call me names and slapped me the foce with his big fat pig hon. # didn't take much of that, $j up @ beer bottle — there 1 of them around — and broke it « edge of a table. Then | showe the jogged edge of & end told + he even come neor me I'd rip soe the blubber out of his feces.