for workers coming through the newspapers are crocodile tears? They have pity for poor girls, for people who cannot gain their daily bread. Do they really pity them? Why, then, do they not prevail upon the operators of the street railway to better the position of their employees? For in many cases the daughters of these employees are the very girls who are obliged to work, because the father does not earn money enough to support his family? These men are fighting to put an end to the slavery of their wives and children, as well as of themselves. They know what fighting means, because there is no struggle of this kind without hardship, and they are prepared for it. The end is worthy of the sacrifice. Great deeds must be worked for, suffered for, died for, if necessary. Pity! What these people want is not pity, but justice. Those who speak of pity belong to the poisonous microbes category. Ask if they have pity, when, after having sowed the seeds of hatred among nations, they stir up the blind people and make men rush upon their fellow-men like wild beasts. And for what? And for what? Inquire of the gentlemen of La Bourse and Wall street. Ask them, I say, if they have pity for the dead, for the mutilated, for the widows, for the orphans? Pity! How dare the defenders of capitalism speak of pity for humanity? Will, the history of mankind is a sad history of crime and injustice on the part of the strong against the weak. It has as an object the establishment of tyranny over the poor. The person who told you that 'nothing is right but Socialism' told you one of the most sacred truths, which a truly moral man must accept. The age in which 'religious' and 'moral' men can oppress their fellows six days of the week, and on the seventh kneel down for a few minutes in a church and pray for them is near its end. The day of judgment is coming. "The night has been long and dark, but the dawn is at hand.' 'Though heaven falls, let justice be done."" CHAPTER I. It was a beautiful spring morning of the thirtieth year of the Socialist Era, and the twenty-fifth of the Proclamation of the Confederation of all European and American States; in other words, the year 2706 ab urbe condita, 1953 of the Christian Era, the 461st after the discovery of America, the 180th of the independence of America, and the 160th of the Proclamation of the Rights of the Man by the French Revolutionists; dates which represent the seven most famous and remarkable events of the world's history. The weather was fine, and nature at her best. A slight freshness was in the air, impregnated already with delicious odors exhaled by the new flowers, the new leaves and the soft grass. How beautiful is spring! It is the youth of the year. On the day before, from the top of the Dewey Memorial Arch, I stood for half an hour contemplating New Orleans, so gorgeously clothed in her dress of flowersthe dress of love. Spring melodies of the birds, flitting from tree to tree, caused in my mind the sweet illusion that the beautiful city itself was singing a charming song of love. How glorious it was! The morning following was still more enchanting .I arose early and opened my window to let in the fresh air. A voice outside was saying: "This is the residence of the doctor for whom you are looking, sir." "Who could be looking for me so early?" I asked myself. Somewhat curious, I went to the front door and opened it. "Oh! oh!" we both exclaimed, and embraced each other heartily. |