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The latest assessment of the price of socialism comes from Norman Thomas; for a socialistic burglar selected his particular summer home of all those on Long Island from which to filch fifty prime hens. For while Mr. Thomas was interpreting his doctrine literally by leaving his chicken shanty unlocked in a spirit of welcome to rich man, poor man, beggar man, and even to thief, the burglar seems to have taken him at his word. And the doubting Thomas awoke yesterday morning to find that a modicum of his store had been spirited away, because, to use his own ungracious phrase, "he had been too dumb to have a lock."
Perhaps Mr. Thomas was exploiting his hens. Perhaps he was making them work overtime for his wife's tea room in New York. But not relishing the idea of having his means of production tampered with any more than our friend the Boisheviki, Mr. Thomas thought he would employ that particular instrument of suppression which he has professionally contemned.
But he should not grow angry at his Norman invasion, nor call the special body of armed men. For perhaps all is just as it should be; the burglar merely anticipating a great social reform, the state already beginning to wither away. He should find some consolation in his first constructive step towards the socialization of the means of production, even though the ownership be but multiplied by two; and perhaps he may continue his good work if he will only be so good as to replenish his supply of hens and continue to leave the door unlocked.
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