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Updated: June 11, 2025
I was busy with my child-labour work, and I doubt if a thought of Sylvia crossed my mind, until that never-to-be-forgotten afternoon at Mrs. Allison's when she came up to me and took my hand in hers. Mrs. Roland Allison was one of the comfortable in body who had begun to feel uncomfortable in mind.
"I haven't told him about you!" I answered, needless to say, that I hoped she would keep the secret! All this time I was busy with my child-labour work. We had an important bill before the legislature that session, and I was doing what I could to work up sentiment for it. I talked at every gathering where I could get a hearing; I wrote letters to newspapers; I sent literature to lists of names.
In my arguments I had thought to appeal to her by referring to that feature of wage-slavery which more than even child-labour stirs the moral sense of women, but to my utter consternation I discovered that here was a woman nearly a year married who did not know what prostitution was.
I detected a note of triumph in her voice; if she could say that she had got Mrs. van Tuiver to take up child-labour that indeed would be a feather to wear! "I will tell you all I can," I said. "That's my work in the world." "Take Mrs.
What has it to offer? What does it offer? Employers' associations, injunctions, civil suits for plundering of the treasuries of the labour-unions, clamour and combination for the open shop, bitter and shameless opposition to the eight-hour day, strong efforts to defeat all reform, child-labour bills, graft in every municipal council, strong lobbies and bribery in every legislature for the purchase of capitalist legislation, bayonets, machine-guns, policemen's clubs, professional strike-breakers and armed Pinkertons these are the things the capitalist class is dumping in front of the tide of revolution, as though, forsooth, to hold it back.
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