trike or in all your
strikes, you will not much better yourselves. Because you are ignorant
and foolish, your masters will scheme around and take from you in some
other way what you have wrenched from them in the strike.

"Organize! Think! Learn! Then you will rise out of the dirt where
you wallow with your wives and your children. Don't blame your
masters; they don't enslave you. They don't keep you in slavery. Your
chains are of your own forging and only you can strike them off!"

Certainly no tenement house woman could be lazier, emptier of head,
more inane of life than her sister Martha. "She wouldn't even keep
clean if it wasn't the easiest thing in the world for her to do, and a
help at filling in her long idle day." Yet--Martha Galland had every
comfort and most of the luxuries, was as sheltered from all the
hardships as a hot-house flower. Then there was Hugo--to go no further
afield than the family. Had he ever done an honest hour's work in his
life? Could anyone have less brains than he? Yet Hugo was rich and
respected, was a director in big corporations, was a member of a
first-class law firm. "It isn't fair," thought the girl. "I've always
felt it. I see now why. It's a bad system of taking from the many for
the benefit of us few. And it's kept going by a few clever, strong men
like father. They work for themselves and their families and relatives
and for their class--and the rest of the people have to suffer."

She did not fall asleep for several hours, such was the tumult in her
aroused brain. The first thing the next morning she went down town,
bought copies of the New Day--for that week and for a few preceding
weeks--and retreated to her favorite nook in her father's grounds to
read and to think--and to plan. She searched the New Day in vain for
any of the wild, wandering things Davy and her father had told her
Victor Dorn was putting forth. The four pages of each number were
given over either to philosophical articles no more "anarchistic" than
Emerson's essays, not so much so as Carlyle's, or to plain accounts of
the current stealing by the politicians of Remsen City, of the squalor
and disease--danger in the tenements, of the outrages by the gas and
water and street car companies. There was much that was terrible, much
that was sad, much that was calculated to make an honest heart burn
with indignation against those who were cheerily sacrificing the whole
community to their desi