of human progress.

"Every intelligent person within the sound of my voice knows it is true
that the rich are growing richer and the poor are becoming poorer. The
accumulation of stupendous fortunes in the hands of individuals
threatens the very foundations of our government. Time was when a man
worth a million was supposed to be immensely rich. To-day the possessor
of a single million is looked on with scorn and contempt by our
multimillionaires. Ten millions, twenty millions, fifty millions--aye,
even a hundred millions are now accumulated by individuals. This money
belongs to the masses, the laborers who have earned it by the sweat of
their brows."

"Hear! hear!" "That's right!" "Hooray!" cried the crowd.

Mulloy had gripped Ephraim's arm.

"Ivery word av thot has a familiar sound to me," muttered the Irishman.
"Oi've heard thot talk before and from the same lips."

"My friends," continued the speaker, "we are all brothers. Justice to
one and all of this great human family should be our motto.
Unfortunately for me I was not born of the masses, as the royal knights
of labor are now called by the American aristocrats of boodle. By birth
I was supposed to be exalted above the lower strata of humanity. My
parents were wealthy. My father gave me an education to be a slave
driver over the common people. His blood runs in my veins, but my heart
is not of his heart. In his eyes I have become disgraced because I dared
boldly claim the street laborer, the man with the hoe, the man with the
pick and shovel, the man with the sweat of honest toil on his brow--I
have dared to claim him as a fellow man and brother.

"I have traveled from coast to coast, and I have lived in the poorest
quarters of New York, Chicago, and other great cities. My heart has bled
at the sufferings of the poor people who are wearing their wretched
lives away in toil for a most wretched sustenance. The friends I once
knew have turned from me and called me a socialist, an anarchist. They
call us anarchists because we sympathize with the downtrodden
masses--because we prophesy the coming of the great struggle that shall
emancipate these masses. We are not anarchists, but we are proud to be
called socialists. Anarchy is disorder and ruin. Socialism is order and
equal rights for all. Let them point the finger of scorn at us. What
care we? But let them beware, for the great earthquake is coming."

Mulloy and Gallup had forced their way through the crowd,