hen again quiet had been
restored. "That is the law which we have enacted. This strike is to be
fought through to the end. We are not to be scared by Wall Street or
worked upon by their hired thugs and so resort to violence. I am not
afraid of violence," he continued sharply, "I am here to preach it. But
the only violence I preach is the violence of folded arms. You have
folded your arms and their ships are dead. No other kind is so deadly as
that. Only hold to this kind of violence, and though they may send out a
ship here and there, this great port of New York will stay
closed--bringing ruin all over the land--till the nation turns to Wall
Street and says, 'We cannot wait! You will have to give in!'"

As he ended his speech, it seemed to me as though he were reaching far
out, gripping that throng and holding it in. But for how long could he
hold them?

Every paper that they read had suddenly turned against them and
prophesied their swift defeat. Two more ships sailed that night. And as
Marsh had foretold, their sailing was played up in pictures and huge
headlines, while the statement that I wrote was cut to one small
paragraph and put upon the second page.

That night, with the eager aid of strikers of five nationalities, I
wrote a message to the crowd, translated it into German and French,
Spanish, Italian and Polish. A socialist paper loaned us their press,
and by noon our message was scattered in leaflets all up and down the
waterfront. This message went out daily now. For the greater part of
each night I sat in strike headquarters and wrote direct to the
tenements.

* * * * *

The next day Marsh proposed a parade, and the Farm took it up with
prompt acclaim. He challenged the mayor of the city to stop it. To
friends who came to him later he said:

"You tell the mayor that I'm doing my best to give these men something
peaceful to do. If he wants to help me, all well and good. If he don't,
let him try to stop this parade."

And the mayor granted a permit.

The next afternoon the Fifth Avenue shops all closed their doors, and
over the rich displays in their windows heavy steel shutters were rolled
down. The long procession of motors and cabs with their gaily dressed
shoppers had disappeared, and in their place was another procession,
men, women and children, old and young. All around me as I marched I
heard an unending torrent of voices speaking many languages, uniting in
str