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to flow out on the floor and form a heap on which we could stand and so enable us to scramble out of the top part of the opening. Perhaps this seems complicated, but in fact it was quite simple had the workman been intelligent and the weather with us. Unfortunately it began to rain and in spite of our protestations the half-wit insisted on going on with his work just the same: filling the now wet paper bags with wet sand, and earth and gravel and piling these on a slimy foundation of mud. As was to be expected, the bags began bursting and a landslide of pebbles and sand ensued. The door is now clogged and the opening, unprotected, exposes the refuge to whatever may come its way. The idiot workman refuses to return. He says that he has been insulted by the two Signore "who, on seeing his work, had made unflattering remarks." 
I have now come to the conclusion that in order to make Communism a success great care must be taken when selecting the work-people who are to have a high hand over us. For instance, that particular workman (an equal though he be) should be regulated to the barn-yard where, left to his own devices, he would surely choose to live ever after in happy community with the geese. 
My peasant's soldier brother has returned home wounded and minus an eye. He gave us a long and confused account of his Odyssey somewhere in the Balkans during the Badoglio crisis. His Commander-in-Chief suddenly went mad, causing great confusion in the ranks and when the