As a matter of fact, it was the menace in his tone
that hushed the meeting. The men rather feared what lay behind Joe's
words.

At once, however, one of the men leaped to his feet, and began a fiery
speech in Yiddish, speaking gaspingly, passionately, hotly, shaking his
fist, fluttering his hands, tearing a passion to tatters. Joe understood
not a word, but the burden of the speech was:

"Why should we strike? What for? For the cloak-makers? What have we to
do with cloak-makers? We have troubles enough of our own. We have our
families to support--our wives and children and relations. Shall they
starve for some foolish cloak--makers? Comrades, don't listen to such
humbug. Do your work--get done with it. You have good jobs--don't lose
them. These revolutionists! They would break up the whole world for
their nonsense! It's not they who have to suffer; it's us working
people. We do the starving, we do the fighting. Have sense; bethink
yourselves; don't make fools out of yourselves!"

A buzz of talk arose with many gesticulations.

"He's right! Why should we strike--Och, Gott, such nonsense!--No more
strike talk."

Then Sally arose, pale, eyes blazing. She shook a stanch little fist at
the crowd. But how different was her speech from the one in Carnegie
Hall--that time when she had been truly inspired.

"Shame on all of you! You're a lot of cowards! You're a lot of traitors!
You can't think of anything but your bellies! Shame on you all! Women
would never stand for such things--young girls, your sisters or your
daughters, would strike at once! Let me tell you what will happen to
you. Some day there will be a strike of shirt-waist-makers, and then
your boss will go to the cloak-house and say, 'Now you make shirtwaists
for me,' and the cloak-makers will make the shirtwaists, saying, 'When
we were striking, the shirtwaist-makers made cloaks; now we'll make
waists.' And that will ruin your strike, and ruin you all. Working
people must unite! Working people must stand by each other! That's your
only power. The boss has money, land, machinery, friends. What have you?
You only have each other, and if you don't stand by each other, you
have nothing at all. Strike! I tell you! Strike and show 'em! Show 'em!
Rise and resist! You have the power! You are bound to win! Strike! I
tell you!"

Then a man shouted: "Shall a woman tell us what to do?" and tumult broke
loose, angry arguments, words flying. The air seemed to tingle with