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The Labor herald. (Richmond, Va.) 1885-18??, June 26, 1886, Image 1

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VOL. 1.-2STO. 43.
Where can nations find redress
From even' pain and wrong,
When over them oppression holds
Its monopolistic throng?
Where should the voice of ■offering men
So eloquently plead
For human rights and everything
In life that they need?
Where stood our noble ancestors
When pursued;
When hand to hand and heart to-heart,
They fought still unsubdued r
What was the bulwark of defense,
The shield no one could pierce,
Whcji round them EuglishTTChs itiareil
So beastly-like and rierce;
When clashing arms and cannon's roar
Had left the battle field
And boasted British strength was forced
To God and right to yield ;
When few came up with trembling hand,
And set the famous seal
That caused the old uprising throne
In its rottenness to reel?
What was it but the ballot-box
That all the world respects,
On which is laid our country's shield
And her brightest intellects?
Then rally round the ballot-box,
Every name and man,
And let us see what energy
And wills united can.
Press closer' brother, as you go,
Leave not a space between ;
That we are earnest let it be
To all the world seen.
We can, we must, the hallways tread
That let our Order in
To chambers where for right they plead, I
And we are sure to win.
There's freedom in the ballot-box,
' Tis mightier than arms; '•
And more than all that riot can,
Our government alarms.
They'll listen to our humble cry,
Our standard rally 'round,
When we have fought our honest way,
And gained our vantage ground. '
Then rally round the ballot-box, '
When open for your vote; <
'Tis this will make the wealthy bow i
And of our cause take note.
" Make thorn look as neat as possi '
ble," said the pleasant forewoman, pla- 1
ring the bright silk in Fay's lap. " The 1
salesmen are so particular about having '
orders well-made that it is almost im- T
possible for learners to please them. 1
And if any are soiled while being made '
the sild must be paid for by the one '
who finishes them. Here is one and a '
half dozen. We pay fifty cents a dozen, !
and you can easily finish them to-day. I
Now, be very, very careful! " '
With a beaming smile of encourage
ment for the young new comer, she ]
hurried away, intent upon the business '
with which her days were pressed full '
to overflowing. '
Fay bent over her work with trem- '
bling eagerness, almost afraid to touch !
the beautiful pieces, which seemed like 1
drifts of charmed beauty from fairy- '
Naturally deft with her needle, the
gossamer bits grew into graceful bows '
beneath her skillful fingers, and her
heart sang au accompaniment of glad '
praise as the shining needle flew in and
Seventy five cents in one day! It
was quite a fortune!! What a happy
impulse that led her to inquire here
for emyloyment! The money was al
ready spent in imagination as her
thoughts went rapidly back with her
heart, to the low bed on which her lit
tle brother lay, weak and faint from
privation—" almost starvation," she
told herself with a shiver of terror.
Farther on into a blissful future, free
from unpaid rents and accumulating
bills, ran her hopeful fancy. She would
have a room with a large window in it,
at which Eddie could sit—with his
hands clasped in his quaint, old-fash
-3isKd manner—t?&ferfcrag tfef3_soming
night, and asking odd questions in a
sweet little voice hushed by the awe of
the gathering darkness, and wondering
at the solemnly appearing stars, that
to him were so many tiny glimpses into
a bright beyond, that held dear papa
and mamma in its mysterious realms.
Something in the young face, with
its patient, unspoken sorrow, drew
Miss Carroll's sympathy to Fay, and
she encouraged her by warmly praising
her work, which was really well done.
Fay thanked her with a glance from
which she could not keep the grateful
tears, and bent over the hot pressing
table with renewed hopes and dreams.
Already she saw Eddie's dear little
face lighting up with pleasure, and his
little hand held eagerly out for the
much-needed nourishment.
"No more hungry days now for sis
ter's pet," she murmured, fondly. "No
more cold nights, nor the darkness
that frightens him so. liow can Ibe
thankful enough—"
" Remember to be very careful about
the pressing," suddenly cautioned Miss
Carroll at her elbow.
Fay gave a swift, upward glance,
startled by this abrnpt breaking in
npon her dreams.
I i
In that slight delay the iron rested
an instant too long. When she raised
it, the dark print of the broad tip soiled
the delicate lavender beyond any hope
of remedy.
•' Oh, my dear! " cried Miss Carroll
in sharp disappointment, " how could
you do it! Your whole day's work for
nothing. The silk must be paid for.
I'm so sorry, but I'll see what can be
done about it."
She hurried forward to meet an ad
vancing gentleman, whose eyes had
been many times directed to Fay's pre
occupied face during that busy day.
But his momentary interest in her
j vanished, and the angry lines between
his brows grew deeper witlr wmh-step,
as he listened to Miss Carroll's story.
He paused before Fay, an ugly, uncom
promising scowl disfiguring a usually
pleasant face.
"So ' No. 6' burned it, did she ?" he
said, sourly, unmindful of Fay's shrink
ing terror. " Well, I suppose ' No. C '
knows the rule— whatever is burned or
lost must be paid for. One of the
finest silks too! Seventy-five cents for
that piece of carelessness, and a cheaply
bought experience you will find it, if it
saves you from spoiling goods for an
other house; we have no more for you
to play such tricks with. No need of
words, Miss Carroll''—as she attempted
a vindication. "If you bad paid proper
attention it would not have been done."
Thus silenced the kind-hearted wo
man could only look pityingly at Fay,
who received her hard sentence with
statue like silence. At any other time
Mr. Barry's harshness would have been
softened by such evident suffering.
But alas! Mr. Barry, who was only hu
man, had made a poor sale! And this
sudden fresh annoyance was too much
to be borne with equanimity, so he
turned impatiently away from its mute
reproach, to the long rows of faces
bending wearily over their work.
" Now, girls," they all looked up
" take this case of ' No. G' for an ex
ample, and be doubly careful. Who,
ever spoils silk, pays for it. All treated
alike, no favors shown."
The long rows of faces looked down
again. Some comparatively new in
that saddest phase of human experience
— a city workshop for girls—looked
pityingly at poor Fay's despairing face.
Others with feelings blunted and hard
ened by years of hiurcl scant?
pay, worked mechanically on, undis
turbed by the too usual sight of a fel
low worker's misery. Fay's pitiful story
was quietly circulated among the sym
pathizing few, and a small sum was
spared from their own pressing neces
sities, that they might help to relieve
hers. She was scarcely conscious of
it. The entire loss of her expected
good fortune was almost too much for
her reason to endure bravely.
Mr. Barry, attending with bustling
importance to the "getting out" of
large orders, secretly congratulated
himself upon his firmness that could
not be turned from its purpose "by a
lot of crying girls," though he felt that
firmness to be sorely shaken by the
pale, slender girl who glided softly by
him, down the broad'staircase, out into
the bitter cold of the busy streets.
Insensibly, to Mr. Barry's extreme
distaste with himself, a feeling of re
morse for his treatment of Fay, and a
deep sympathy for her sorrows, learned
from Miss Carroll's regretful remem
brance, troubled his thoughts as he
walked home a night or two after,
though he tried to reason himself into
thinking that he had acted ri£ht.
" The firm is young and rilting, just
making its name," he mused; "and its
interests must be protected in every
way. 'It's the small leaks that sink
the ship,'" j
It was a questionable relief trom sor
rowful thought to meet a friend whose
face reflects the hue of one's own feel
ings ; still it is a diversion, and Mr.
Barry called the name of a former em
foyee with greater cordiality than he
id shown to anyone for two weari
ime days.
" With what new troubljfcßflre ,ia>n
TreatenecC Tomf* he
ju meditating murder or suicide,
)u carry such a long face ? Lost our
tuation or your family ? Which' or
hat is it ? "
" None of them, sir," answered r ' om <
gravely. " It's not of mine or my
j that I have worrying to do, thank ■*- °d.
It's the bad case in our house; if 7 0U
like to hear it, sir?" in an apoloS
"Of course. Go on," said Mr.
" It's very sad," resumed Tom. "■"
girl—a young bit of a thing, to 3 — ln
such want! And too proud to a" 1 * 01
help. She had a little brother w ao ac
j tually starved to death! Died
day, while she was out lookin? * 01
work. And the sister—" Tom's VOlC *
failed him.
"Dead too!" cried the listener,
hoarsely, deep in the shadows c * na '
dread which coming events cast
" Crazy sir!" answered Tom Dro
kenly. "Clear out of her lW' s ' r
since she came in and found th 3 "™*
one gone. Does nothing but c all fo3
' Eddie—Eddie!' all of the timr m
fit to break your heart, sir."
More than the darkness of tr e fas)
I gathering night shut Tom's face from
I Mr. Barry's view, as the conviction that
. this was Fay forced itself to his mind.
i " Well! "he questioned at last—cold
ly it seemed to Tom—who replied
" Well, sir, I'm going to the under
taker's The child must first have
Christian burial. It's not much that
the poor can do for each other, but |
that little is done cheerfully. Where
the heart is to do more, the means are
waitin' to do it with.'' Commencing to
walk on.
Every word was an unconscious re
buke to Mr. Barry's now thoroughly
awakened conscience.
■ - "Wait, Tom," ho «ried at amp
Tom walked on. " I'll go with you ;
or stay, you can do that part of the
business, and I will go to the house, if ,
you will give me the number."
Tom gave it willingly, then proceeded '
on his mournful errand, wondering
greatly at Mr. Barry's sudden interest .
in anything or anybody apart from his
As that gentleman left the wide,
clean thoroughfares to find the obscure
street given him, and found it reeking
with over crowded tenements and filth
in every form, he felt the uttermost
what it was to be poor. Yet of even
this poor shelter, his ill-judged justice
would have deprived poor Fay and her
baby brother.
The house was soon found, then up
long stairways, until turning a sharp
angle in the cold attics, under the low
eaves, a scene met his gaze that turned
his dread speculations into painful
In one corner, by a low bed, knelt
Fay, talking heartbrokenly to some- .
thing she held closely to her breast,
unmindful of the kindly faces looking
in at the open door, and of the stiffed
I sobs that answered her grief; while
with one hand she vainly pressed ai ,
piece of bread to the little pales lips.
"Oh, Eddie, darling! " she moaned,
"open your eyes and eat the bread.
You were so hungry this morning.
Open your eyes—do open your eyes,
pet, you are breaking sister's heart. ,
Sobbing drearily as she rocked
the little nnconscious fora- backwards
and forwards in her aiTGs. ,
" That's the way she has been goin'
on ever since yesterday" whispered one
of the awe-strick«n Bpw>tn.t/ws _
■ She was out lookin' for something
to do, and he took worse and died be
fore she came in. It struck her all of
a heap, and she won't take no notice ,
of anything, only rock and cry like
Mr. Barry felt his heart sink heavily ,
within him, while his own brain seamed ,
turned to fire. His judgment thee had ,
been an irritating error. In a second
he had crossed the' creaking floor, land
was kneeling beside her.
" Fay," he whispered gently.
She turned her haggered face toward
him. "He won't take it," she cried
out piteously:
" Oh, I never meant to do it, sir!
But it was warm, and the iron wa* so
heavy, and I had not had anything to .
eat all of that day. How could I help ,
letting the iron fall a moment ? "
All the persons clustered around the
door were sobbing loudly, and tie
heavy drops fell from Mr. Barry's eyes
on the little hand he held.
"Won't you please try?" she pleaded, -.
drawing the cover off the child's face, t
" Oh, Eddie, darling! " beginning again •
her moaning. •
The child's beautiful face bore the ,
touching marks of privation and dis -
tress even in its death sleep.
All of this misery for seventy five
cents! Ah, had it been a " cheaply- .
bought experience I .
All of his hard-earned"wealth and
position in a " young but rising trm, .
could never restore life to the little
cold form, nor reason to the delcate
mind that had bent under its weight
of sorrow. I
To his remorseful memory he was
the cause of it all. True the end was
i»m» inner man any one could foretell, W
still this was the sad result. c
The consequences were now his r
troubles to bear bravely and tenderly. £
On him devolved the sacred duty of c
soothing Fay, and gently forcing her '
to give Eddie up to kind and willing 1
hands that made the little body ready
for its burial. •
Afterwards, for years, reverently ac-1 r
cepting the care of Fay—through Misß *
Carroll's willing co-operation—as a *
means of restitution for his former in- l
justice, thankfully receiving it as • J
recompence when the gentle face began *
to lose its sad, yearning gaze, and to •
turn lovingly to his. '
The sequel was never related up j r
stairs in the work room, and the girls l
wonder at the change in Mr. Barry's *
treatment of them. "
And none of them ever knew of the '• c
living and dead reminders that keep ; c
their interests warm in their employer's I c
heart. '«
Reminders —dead, the little grave in 8
Greenwood with its marble shaft bear-1 8
ing one word " Eddie; " living, the j 1
pale, beautiful wife with a haunted look a
in her dark eyes, and a restless quiver a
around her sweet mouth, whom Mr. i
Barry regards with a reverend love that |
juhe 26, 1886.
I. '
■! is almost idolatry, and of whom th^
it girls whisper as she comes among
L | them, winning all their hearts by the
I tender, understanding sympathy she
J has with their lives and loves, joys and
:- " Sometimes lam almost tempted to
c think—she so much resembles the
t young girl whom Mr. Barry discharged
t ■ for spoiling a piece of silk—only that
c it could never be, you know; for some
c one said she turned crazy and died in
0 an insane asylum. Though I believe
it was never rightly known what did
i- become of her—poor thing ! "
The Signs of the Times. J
Our world is running round, and
everything is running at high pressure,
. but the blundering masses are awaken
ing and are making a new departure.
, The burdens under which they suffer
have at last become unbearable. With
. one voice they are crying out: There
is no famine in the land ; give us food,
and give us comforts. We are the
workers, we have produced both of
them. Give us justice; give us that
which is our own and yet there will be
found individuals who are blindfolded
. in spite of all their knowledge, placing
themselves in conspicuous places, to
thwart the present lawful and progres
sive movement which is presented and
supported by the producers throughout
the country. Now the capitalists are
combining for safety and protection,
but their efforts must terminate in their
. own discomfiture, and some of them
. will pay dearly for their experience!
Beware of the black list, an instrument
of your own invention. This panorama
confronts us: On the one side, organ
ized capitalists shouting, what I have
and what I take, is my own ; without
!my money you cannot live; I feed you
all; I have certain rights that must
naturally be denied to you; we will
have nothing to do with you. On the
other side the toilers, struggling on
' ward, though deprived of their neces
sary comforts, wavering as they ad
vance, assailed on every side, but still
' they are moving onward, the order is
heard all along the line, close up,
close up.
Hunger is a dangerous neighbor.
, Under the existing state of affairs re
spectable society sanctions and approves
as a rule, the methods our capita] *X
resort to for the purpose of bra
lus to th«ir knees. In this city of Troy,
to-day you have the starvation plan in
full swing. Our manufacturers have,
helped to bolster up an obnoxious
competitive system, and now you are
foolish enough to thini we ought to
help them out of the trouble they have
brought about by ftieir own greed.
They alone have reduced the workers'
pay, let them frmg it up again. Are
we going to 'tarve ourselves at their
bidding, an*» help to swell their boodle
at the sai»e time ? It is the system we
are condemning, and not the individuals
who vte living by it, unless they should
male themselves particularly antago
nistic toward us. The capitalist who
neets us honestly and above board will
have the pleasure of knowing that in
difference and greed are neither profit
able nor consoling, and the kicker will
pay for his experience, he will partake
of the bitter bread that we are tasting
now, and if he does not turn into a
dyspeptic, he will be fortunate indeed.
You cannot break up the Order of the
Knights of Labor. You may retard
its progress, but while you are doing
it, you are placing yourself in a worth
less and profitless position. The pro
ducers cannot be kept on the verge of
starvation much longer, you must give
way to the inevitable ; for the signs of
the times are with us; to-day is not
twelve months ago, our march is up
ward and onward, but should we be
forced to make a retrogade movement,
who will venture to foretell the end.—
The Robber Gould's Country Home.
. Jay Gould's country residence at
.(jrvington was considered by its original.
owner, George Dawson Merritt, the
most elegant, attractive and thoroughly
I equipped summer residence in the
I country. Mr. Gould paid §200,000
. for the property in 1880, and it is now
. worth $1,000,000 at a low estimate.
The house is Gothic in style, and is
3,000 feet from the Hudson river, com
j manding a magnificent view. It has
: twenty rooms above the basement. On
J the second floor is a fine art gallery
. extending the entire depth of the house.
, Mangold, the steward at Irvington, has
been in Mr. Gould's employ for over
twenty years, and receives a salary of
| $2,000. The lawn about the house is
i ninety-five acres in extent, and the
I macadamized road leading to the en
l trance is a quarter of a mile long.
There are in the estate 510 acres, 200
iof which are woodland. The live stock
i consists of twenty horses, as many
I j cows, a drove of Southdown sheep and
I a lot of blooded fowls. Eighteen men
i are on the place constantly, and in
I summer the number is nearly a hundred
i, The hot houses and conservatory cover
: a space 900 feet long and 450 wide,
• and with their contents are valued at
$250,000. The taxes on it amount to
, $250 a month.— Ex.
18 i
ie !
ie Labor and Capital's Interests Identical.
t t The Rev. R. Heber Newton, rector of
a _ All Souls' Church, West Forty-eighth
n street, yesterday preached the fourth
■ c and last of his series of sermons on
( ] "The Present Aspect of the Labor
Problem " to a very large congregation.
"tThe Way Out" was the topic of the
gfkv « - .t . . _^~
d survey of the roui. by which}.
3 i we are to reach the promised land of
'- our industrial civilization, he said, he
'• is doomed to disappointment. We
ir must make for the points that are in
h sight, and trust that when we shall
c have won them we shall see further h
1. ahead, and thus grope our way out.
c The social problem is so vast and com
»f plex that no one but a charlatan will
•t pretend to have found its complete
6 solution. Our system of education,
■ our burdensome taxation, our political
I corruption, our municipal mismanage
0 ment—these and a host of other de
•" fects in government tell mightily upon
the problem.
t Our labor organizations have much
c to do toward the solution of the prob
lem. The associations which these j
r organizations bring, the discussions !
Q they open, the reading and study they
1 stimulate, all foster education. They
* can develop, in various forms, the prin
a ciple of co-operation ; leading into loan j
'- and building societies through which
c the workmen may become owners of i
t their homes; co-operative stores,
n | through which they can cheapen the |
t necessaries of life and secure the best
■ quality in them, and ultimately co-op
e erative productive associations through
l " which the savings of labor can be capi
'" talized and labor become its own em
'' ployer.
11 Our great munufacturing and trade
8 and commercial associations have some
'' what to do toward the solution of the
problem. Very much that needs to be
'• done for the better regulation of the
'" business world can be far better done
8 by these associations than by the clum
hands of legislation. Were our
rJ great business associations bent on (
' > putting a stop to the gambling of our ,
1 exchanges, they could soon do so by ,
9j , the force of public opinion generated |
8 j by these bodies. j
9 The Church has a part to play in ,
} working out this problem. No legisla
-9 tion can determine what constitutes a
* just distribution of the rewards of in- ,
1 dustry between profits and wages. Let
9 the desire to do justly really work in
r the consciences of employers and some .
8 way will be found to reach a rude equa
-9 tion of equity. It is the Church's busi- ,
3 ness not merely to preach, as of old,
■ the duty of generosity in the use of
" wealth, but the duty of justice in the
} accumidation of wealth. Let the
* Church say to capital, keep back your '
" gifts and pay your debt of justice to
1 your fellow men.
The State Las much to do in pushing
9 forward a practical solution of the pro
' blem. Our older school of political
1 economy taught us that the Sttate could
■do nothing in this problem except to
B muddle it. As a matter of fact the
State is being steadily pushed, by the j
I unconscious action of the social organ
ism, into the development of new func
tions, and these thus far are working
well. We need to make our raw Re-
B public a real Republic; to reform and
■ | develop our municipal, State and
national government, to the end that
'" there shall be a government of the peo-,
B pie, for the people and by the people. I
' The State can foster the education of
thrift, the lack of which we have seen
to be one of the causes of the lowering
of the profits of capital and the dimin
ishing of the resources of labnr. The '
t more that the homes of our poor fuil t.'.
ulcate this vir-*.ie the mo»a ,slir
c the State see that the common schoolfe
y train it The State can carry on thi i
c training in thrift among its adult citi -1
0 zens. No greater incentive to thrift'
i can be devised at present than the in
). troduction through our land of the,
si postal savings system. The State can
l- reform her system of taxation so as to '
8 lighten the burdens which it now im-'
d poses upon industry and to undo the ''
y artificial restrictions with which it
s. cramps trade. In many ways a wise |
8 system of taxation could favor a better I
r distribution of wealth, while increasing
if production. The State can control '
s transportation in the interests of the j
1 people at large. Exchange needs to be <
l- as free as production— to have no arti !
' f ficial restraints imposed upon it in t*.6 I
0 interests of the few. Modern transpi) ' !
k tation, from the necessity of the c I
j tends to become a monopoly. j j»j»m
i State should follow the example set bj I
a several countries of the Old World ano I
1 either own our railroads or superintend' 1
L their direction in the interests of the! ■
t Commonwealth. <
\ The State should regulate our foreign t
t immigration. We have received be i
} | tween twelve and thirteen million in c
I migrants in a half century and overl i
four mill.'- '- in the last decade. This
i immigration has tended largely toward
, ourjgreat manufacturing centres, which
it his still further clogged with surplus
labt r, depressing wages, lowering the
den: md on which production depends,
and thus leading to the shrinkage of
■ promts. Plainly, we need either to re
strict our immigration or to organize
' its distribution in the interests of the
1 nation. Europe has found our country
1 a free almshouse for her paupers and a
1 Botany Bay for her criminals, costing
her nothing. It is time that the law
■ already passed two years ago by Con
' gress, prohibiting the importation of
clifcjj forpigj) labor n n<ler contract,
•~ :.? ci forced.* II is a
wrong that unscrupulous
' cipital should be allowed to rake the
'■ c leapest labor markets of the Old
! " 'orld for the material with which to
I t L*ht our Ameiican workingmen. The
'; I tate should facilitate emigration from
' j chr overcrowded centres in every pos
- \e way. It should, therefore, have
' laid as a sacred trust our magnificent
' comain of public lands which it has
! l.vished so recklessly upon speculative
i lalroads. It is estimated that one
II landred million acres are reclaimable
t-i-day by our national government from
•' railroad companies which have failed to
1 comply with the conditions on which
'. ieir grants were made. Here is a
1 , clear case for legislation.
: The State should hold all mineral
1 ! resources hereafter as the property of
1 . ths people at large. If it were not for
' our conventional custom how monstrous
would seem the notion that the natural
rej jurces of the earth should be mon
opolized by individuals. A few years
1 ago in our city a coal magnate was
asked what the price of coal was to be
for the coming winter. He replied with
; a smile, "As high as Providence will
i permit and as low as necessity compels."
During the past winter a company of
estinitible gentlemen over a supper
taple it a Murray Hill mansion settled
■ between themselves the amount of coal
that should be mined during the coming
> setdon. Do you, with childlike inno
cence, imagine that this quantity was
1 determined by the needs of their fellow
1 beings? Bound them a few hundred
1 thousand people were buying coal by
1 the basketful, paying at the rate of
frorf*. - < 15 to $20 a ton. But these ex
\ c-djep' gentlemen had no eye upon this
aspect ot the case, but were simply con
sidering how to gain the largest divi
den b for their companies. The State
has thus left in the hands of a few
individuals the pojver of imposing an
oppressive taxation upon a prime
necessity ot life—of lowering the real
wagos of labor and shrinking the profits
of capital through the depression
1 thus caused in the general demand.
Copper, lead, iron, oil—indespensible
1 all jo industrial life—are thus the
monopolies of individuals instead of the
com mon wealth of the people at large.
Xhejnatural resources of the earth in
t very form need to be held in the
1 sate--ests of the commonwealth. Land
1 is the prime factor in the production of
kealth. Land is a limited quantity. It
1 dotes not, therefore, come under the
regulation of competition. As every
' other monopoly, it demands therefore
the control of the State, that the
I monopoly may be that of the people at
I large and not that of individuals. It
' would seem that the time had already
1 ! come for us to control speculative deal
I I ing in land and at least to raise the
question of regulating the normal rate
• of rent as we now regulate the normal
I rate of interest— lf. Y. Herald.
I' Law Once Vindicated.
• Jay Gould and his legal and scab
satraps came to grief in Texas last
; week. They had procured by bribery
| the indictment, trial and conviction of
i two railroad men, under the penal code,
I for willful destruction of property, they
; being charged with having invalidated
, I one of Gould's locomotives. The judge
that liould had bought for the occa-
ha.l sentenced his victims to be
i imprisoned for three months and to be
i fined $100 each ; failing to pay which
they were to be yet longer incarcerated
II until they had languished in jail a day
for every dollar of the fine. (By the
way the State pays no better wages
than Jay Gould.) The case went up
on appeal to the highest court, which
! has just set aside the convictions on
: the ground that they were unjust, be
. ing without authority of law. That will
put a stop to the jerking up of honest
■ men by Jay Gould's minions whenever
they venture to express a desire for fair
If the President had possessed one
spark of manhood—if he was not bound
hand and foot to the car of capital—if
I he could think a workingman was en
tjf'Hed to any more consideration than'
ttifl beast of burden which the tyranny
would make him, the poor
- fellows now in jail in Texas for feeling
■ contempt for Judge Pardee, would
> £uso now be free to provide for their
! 'wives and little ones, left to the charity
comrades, because a corrupt judge
chose to exercise an arbitrary power,
where there was no legal way of exe
cuting the behests of his employer and
I master, Gould.— Labor Union.
Keep The Ball Rolling.
The movement for ehorter hours of
labor is by all odds the most important
of the immediate reforms which we seek
to accomplish. It should not be lost
sight of. In every case where working
men have the option between an in
crease of pay or a shortening of the
hours of work, they will, if they are
wise, choose the latter. Shorter hours
means employment for all, and when
all are employed the capitalist' cannot
get men to fill the places of those on j
strike. This means that in the great
majority of cases there will be no strike !
1 to positions^^Ptiv!
'woriingmeii' Fiat induces capitalists to j
resist the demands of labor. It is a
pleasing and hopeful feature of the;
numerous isolated contests which have ',
occurred since the great eight hour
movement this spring, that the shorten
ing of the time of labor has a promi ;
nent place in the demands of the toilers. ;
The man who voluntarily works long
hours is not only selfish but short- j
1 sighted.
1 Just now there are indications of in
-1 creased business prosperity in this
province. The ablest financial author
1 ities assure us the conditions are favor
able for an industrial revival. As soon
' as it seti in the manufacturers, in
their anxi< ty to make hay while the sun
shines, will want to work overtime.
Inducements will be held out in the
shape of extra pay to persuade the
1 laborer toi keep on working late into
the evenh.g, and no doubt some will be
foolish enough to congratulate each
1 other on the chance afforded them to
' increase their earnings. Let them
1 remembe" that the extra time of to day
' means half time or no time a year or
two hence. If workingmen engaged in
production would firmly refuse to work
' overtime, and tell the employer if he
wants b ore work to hire more men,
' the periodical gluts in the market
' would b<j avoided. Production would
» be more evenly distributed, and instead
of its being either a feast or a famine,
' the supply would be regulated in pro
' portion to the demand. There would
' be no " booms " and no bad times, but
' steady employment at fairly good
' wages <! ir all.— Palladium.
Objects ot the Order.
The two main objects of the Knights
) of Labor are education and co-opera
r tion, yet some Assemblies conduct
i their business as if they were red
3 tape and bickering. The time neces
1 sarily consumed by the present absurdly
i long ceremonies is not half of what
i most of the Assemblies occupy. The
■ right men in the right places would
s greatly reduce it. The wranglings and
i differences that a few designing knaves
I and mistaken dupes introduce with
• various objects in view, should be
i promptly squashed upon their appear-
I ance. There is no excuse for them
I whatever.
Promptly at the hour set the veils
' should close. At least one hour should
1 be devoted to the consideration of a
fixed question, and after not more than
! two hours and a half from the time of
! opening the lights should be out and
' the members on their way home. This
can be done and must be done. Edu
cation precedes everything, for intelli
gent action alone can bring success to
! any movement. Politicians should be
1 ruled down, personal difference ruled
1 out. and if the Knights of Labor do
not take prompt action towards educa
ting the tens of thousands coming into
their sanctuaries their organization
will be in vain.
. Open meetings should be held once
, a month, or oftener, by each Assembly,
f and the principles of the Order or
some vital question should be consid-
P ered in the presence of invited guests
I from outside. Workingmen need meat
i not hulls, ideas not red tape, informa
tion not ceremonies, education and not
, wrangling. They are hungry for mi
i yet many Assemblies regaii
I them with chewed over idle ceremonies,
I elongated to an insufferable degree,
, with personal wrangling for desert.
i This must be changed and strenuous
i efforts made to curtail the first into
i reasonable limits and eliminate the
i second entirely. Otherwise a working
i man had far better go to bed or read
■ some work on political economy or
I vital social question than attend. The
, Assemblies of Seattle have shown re
• markably good judgment in having
■ open meetings, and it is to be hoped
that on the return of long evenings,
i considerably improved by experience,
they will be opened again.— l'uget
1 Sotmd Co-operator.
Mr. Gould's lieutenant, Hoxie, wants
it made a criminal offence for employes !
to combine and strike against a rail
road. He did not suggest that it
I should be made a criminal offence for
railroads to combine and strike against
the public ; to regulate the output and
price on coal; to put Up the rates on
grain when navigation closes, and to
put them down again to fight and kill
i off fresh water navigation lines as soon
I as the ice melts. — I'ost-Dispatch.
Labor Must Make Its Own Laws.
F Labor will soon be in a position to
t make such laws as will suit its own
; and meet its great and press
I ing requirements in a most thorough
What the labor or industrial party
I wants is a truly republican form of gov
I ernment, based upon a genuinely demo
i cratic basis. To achieve this result it
I will be necessary to elevate to power
I; men of well known ability and well tried
i loyalty to the working people, for with
I j out a sufficient test and proof of the
s j latter we may as well
s_ the saiue^ya^^m^^^tf
• good for
i, greatest possible hrjury to the majority,
ij as heretofore. Revolution—peaceful,
I of course, if possible—must come if
r labor is to have fair play, and that
| (revolution) signifies a complete altera
i tion of the laws and statutes relating
. jto the relative positions of capital and
f: labor. A government made up of men
- of the people—fresh elements of hu
| manity—would no longer allow the
-1 workmen, and their wives, sisters, and
3; children, to be degraded and debased
j by demoralizing influences, surround
- ings and dreadful needs of an impov-
II erished condition. While the "class"
i! that conceives itself to be the "privi
i leged" and exclusive "gentry" would
. I continue to roll in wealth and luxuriate
3! in a surfeit of the good things of life,
s | the new system of government would
) I afford at least a respectable living for
a the producers of the enormous fortunes
i enjoyed by the few. The workers in
> the national hive must not allow the
i drones to devour nine-tenths of the
f honey. With the absolute power which
r solidarity of all the labor organizations
i would give, a marvelous change could
s be made, and do doubt will be.
B That a radical change is desirable no
' sane man will deny, for it is notorious
' that the body politic is rottenness itself.
1 1 Every State and every city in the Union
1 has its corrupt officials, from the high
'' est to the lowest, and money, in the
*" hands of wealthy corruptionists, is the
• root of the prevailing iniquities, for the
t' professional politicians who fill our
offices are purchasable commodities.
Dollars have dominated the national
government as they have the States
and the cities, so that we seem to have
become a nation based upon wealth
. alone. In fact, the self-styled "better
. classes," which means the richer people,
, have controlled legislation for many
years, and a most selfish, one-sided and
disgraceful mess they have made of it.
, The "higher classes," a minority, hav
ing failed to administer, or caused to be
, j administered, wholesome and just laws
, in the interests of all the people, it
would seem but just and right that the
, "lower classes"—so called by the "upper
classes"—should have an opportunity
to try what they can do in the line of
governmental policy. They could not
well do worse than has been done by
the law makers to their majesties the
8 railroad kings.
3 "A Printer," author of "Working
ft People's Rights," says: "The masses
a have been honest dupes in politics.
They have sought the good of the
country and have been loth to form a
8 separate body of voters. Selfish agita
"■ | tors have supplied labor with false
l " I issues, and acted as vote brokers and
0 : trading politicians. But don't misjudge
6 ! all laboring men by that. When labor
j is moved to a sense of injustice it will
0 I face capital with leaders of another
" I school. They will come from the ranks.
0 i We know what sacrifices poor men are
1 j capable of performing for one another.
j We know their charitable hearts, never
c | appealed to in vain. We know what
> | unexpected qualities of courage, com
r j mon sense, devotion to trust, they have
I- [ developed in our shop chairmanships,
s in committees, and as society officers,
t When they enter politics, you may learn
- that they have the foresight, skill,
t energy, and intelligeQceyounowJen^
- to them/'— 2*s£ l ' mM
'' His Best Girl on Strike.
" More touble about capital," said the.
! train-boy, diving into his chest for a
8 last summer's Sunday magazine to sell
3ito a granger. "What now f" asked the
9 brakeman, putting back a daily paper
'" | and lifting a kiln-dried orange. "Best
*1 girl's on a strike," replied the news
r agent, " demands shorter hours Satur
- 91 day night, eight to ten, with fifteen
" j minutes intermission to take breath and
> listen for the old man at nine o'clock,
1 extra caramels for over-time, no new
' girls to be taken on without consent of
' I the present force of employees, and
a half day off for the matinee every
time a new dude comes to town."
" What's capital going to do abont it ?"
i " Hard telling" said the news agent
i I with a weary smile ; " I'm holding out
just now, an offer to take her back and
; sign the old schedule and no questions
• asked, but there's a surveyor's party
; [ camped right outside of town, a Mikado
I company makin' a four night stay at
i the opera house, and a Salvation Army
i storming the town, and the girl holds
I the key to the situation. Reckon I'll
have to give in and sign the new scale.''
I — The American Railroader.

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