alang without making
threats, one to the other?

And there were some strikes that had serious consequences. There were
strikes that delayed the building of ships, and the making of cannon
and shell. And as a result of them men died, in France, and in
Gallipoli, and in other places, who need no have died. They were
laddies who'd dropped all, who'd gi'en up all that was dear to them,
all comfort and safety, when the country called.

They had nae voice in the matters that were in dispute. None thought,
when sic a strike was called, of hoo those laddies in the trenches wad
be affected. That's what I canna forgie. That's what makes me wonder
why the Anzacs, when they reach home, don't have a word to say
themselves aboot the troubles that the union leaders would seem to be
gaein' to bring aboot.

We're in a ficht still, even though peace has come. We're in a ficht
wi' poverty, and disease, and all the other menaces that still
threaten our civilization. We'll beat them, as we ha' beaten the other
enemies. But we'll no beat them by quarrelling amang oorselves, any
more than we'd ever have beaten the Hun if France and Britain had
stopped the war, every sae often, to hae oot an argument o' their own.
We had differences with our gude friends the French, fraw time to
time. Sae did the Americans, and whiles we British and our American
cousins got upon ane anither's nerves. But there was never real
trouble or difficulty, as the result and the winning of the war have
shown.

Do you ken what it is we've a' got to think of the noo? It's
production. We must produce more than we ha' ever done before. It's no
a steady raise in wages that will help. Every time wages gang up a
shilling or twa, everything else is raised in proportion. The
workingman maun mak' more money; everyone understands that. But the
only way he can safely get more siller is to earn more--to increase
production as fast as he knows how.

It's the only way oot--and it's true o' both Britain and America. The
more we mak' the more we'll sell. There's a market the noo for all we
English speaking folk can produce. Germany is barred, for a while at
least; France, using her best efforts and brains to get back upon her
puir, bruised feet, canna gae in avily for manufactures for a while
yet. We, in Britain, have only just begun to realize that the war is
over. It took us a long time to understand what we were up against at
the beginning, and what sort of an effort we maun m