On the sunny sidewalk outside a bookstore on Hollywood's North Vermont Avenue, a legless pencil peddler had set up his pitch. A pretty young woman knelt down beside him and began to ask him questions. Did he think Communists should be barred from jobs in vital U.S. industries? In a muddy Italian accent the peddler replied that he knew nothing about Communists, but he did know that he was paying too much for his $40-a-month room. Did he know who John L. Lewis was? That was easier. "Eez a boxer. A fighter."
Mrs....
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