engers._ "WE'RE FULL--THERE'S NO ROOM!"
_Conductor._ "WE MUST MAKE ROOM FOR 'ER. THERE'S ROOM FOR ONE ON THE
NEAR SIDE 'ERE. B'SIDES YOU'RE ALL SHORT PENN'ORTHS, AND SHE'S A
FOURPENN'ORTH--GOES THE WHOLE WAY!"]
* * * * *
"THE PROMISE OF MAY."
(_As the Proletariat paints it._)
"Since it is incredible that the economic balance can be universally
disturbed by local changes, and always in one direction, we must
assume a kind of moral contagion as an efficient agent in the
wide-spread demand for a revision, of wages and hours of labour.
Identical theories and demands, preferred simultaneously in Austria,
Germany, France, England, and America, must be largely due to the
force of example operating through the modern facility of
communication. A universal movement in favour of shorter hours would
seem best fitted to secure the amelioration of the labourer's
lot."--_The Times._
_Enthusiastic Operative to his Bench-Mate, loquitur:--_
We must wake and turn out early, bright and early, comrade dear;
To-morrow'll be the biggest day of all the sad New Year;
Of all the sad New Year, mate, the biggest, brightest day;
For to-morrow's the First of May, chummy, to-morrow's _our_ First of May.
There'll be many a dark, dark eye, chummy, by Thames, and Seine, and
Rhine,
There'll be SALISBURY, and CARNOT, and _Caprivi_ to peak and pine.
For there'll be a stir of the Labourer in every land, they say,
And Toil's to be Queen o' this May, chummy, Toil's to be Queen o' _this_
May.
I do sleep sound at night, chummy, but to-morrow morn I'll wake;
The Cry of the Crowd will sound aloud in my ear ere dawn shall break.
'Twill muster with its booming bands and with its banners gay;
For to-morrow's the Feast of May, brother, to-morrow's our Feast of May.
They've kept us scattered till now, comrade; but that no more may be:
Our shout goes up in unison by Thames, Seine, Rhine and Spree.
We are not the crushed-down crowd, chummy, we were but yesterday.
We're full of the Promise o' May, brother, mad with the Promise of May!
They thought us wandering ghosts, brother. Divided strength is slight;
But what will they say when our myriads assemble in banded might?
They call us craven-hearted, but what matter what they say?
They'll know on the First o' May, brother; they'll learn on the First
o' May.
They say ou
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