Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965, 1896-02-13
CHAPTER XI.
WORDS OF FLAME.
A mass meeting,

| A mass meeting.
No hall could hold the vast concourse
of excited men and women gathered to
| discuss the abor trouble, which threat
ened to spread like fire into the indus
tries, and even to give color to the
dread of an outburst of communism,
| Chicago.
| Loud of voice and strong of lung,
| Demagogue Schlossinger roared his de-
nunciations from the platform with a
rude brute eloquence that even struck
| chords of sympathy in Frank Grey's
| heart, much as he despised the man.
It was bitter arraignment of the
| wealthy classes, showing under a glar-
| ing light of savage criticism the job
| berries and corruptions of public offices,
| the cruel tyranny of monopolies, the
| hard, fettered fate of the man who had
| to work for his daily bread. Vulgar
and ill-bred as the fellow was he was a
born orator, and when he rose to pas
sion in his speech men listened with
breathless interest.
But strange thing was to happen.
The speaker was in the midst of the
most lurid fight of his imagination,
and paused with folded arms to let the
weight of his words sink into the
hearts of his hearers.
Every eye was fixed on him. Every
bosom was thrilled with emotion.
Suddenly-no one could say exactly
how or whence she came-a young
woman sprang to his side, pale as mar
BILE and with flashing eyes, hatless and
h-;, II, tho
She stood for a moment facing the
astonished multitude, then, in voice
laden with passion, but clear and mu-
scious plagiarism:
'Men and women hear me, for will
speak. l come to you from home
made desolate by your folly, from the
bedside of a half-murdered husband,
with the cries of my children for bread
ringing in my maddened ears. o, listen
to me! For the sake of your wives and
little ones you must and shall hear me-"
The silence was intense.
''Order," yelled Atkins, recovering his
self-possession. ''Throw her out! Off
with the crazy fool"
mo, MOI" roared the tickle crowd.
''Let her speak"
Was this ill-clad young woman in
spired?
Words leaped from her lips in clear,
resonant tones that held the people
spellbound. Men forgot her haggard
look and mean attire, as their ears
drank in the music of her voice, as they
listened to the terrible tale of their
sufferings; and when in glowing tones
she pictured her happy days before the
strike, and drew the contrast of her
present blighted hearth, the women
sobbed with sympathy and even mems
eyes filed with tears.
Nor did they grow FESTIVE when she
reproached them for sacrificing to their
pride the comfort of those they should
have loved dearer than their lives-the
folly. the madness of their actions,
which had led them to the very verge
of murder.
''And for what" she cried, ''for what
have you stepped your souls in crime
and Swallowed your homes in poverty?
For a sentiment-for weak. siclIy
sense of offended dignity, which school
boy would blush to pout over"
Then, with infinite tenderness, she
drew a picture of her sisters sorrows,
and the tragic story of Joe Henderson's
love and ruin. And at last, in one
grand burst of passionate eloquence,
with quivering lips and tear-stained
face, she appealed to the women, the
real sufferers in this unequal fight,
to lend their sympathy and lead the
bread winners back to sense of duty.
She inished-cast one look full of
of J,
head bowed low retreated from the
platform.
For moment there was silence; then
the pent-up feelings of those thrilling
forty minutes burst forth in one ire
mendous roar of applause.
Cheer upon cheer greeted the brave
girl, as she stepped through the crowd;
women chung round her and kissed her
mid mingled tears and laughter; men
shook her by the hand and poured
lavish praises in her ears.
Well might those self-elected
tribunes of the people, Schlossinger and
Atkins, look glum, for the backbone Of
the strike was broken and the next
day the busy hum of industry made |
music in the erst deserted shipyards Of
Chicago.
And one man went back to his lodg- |
ing dismayed at the erents-feeling |
very much as if his temple of theories |
were but a house built of cards, which /
a girl with her finger had toppled over |
and left him more if doubt than ever |
as to which was the best way to solve |
the intricate problem Of the rights of |
labor.