of our Northern cities, where paupers beg for jobs and eat the crumbs that fall from the rich man’s table, on through the wilderness of thieves, harlots, outcasts and tramps, on through jails and asylums, through the slums and into the hideous night—man, woman, won't you shudder at this foul thing a herd of greedy swine have made of our common heritage?
And you vote that this nightmare, this insult to God and man, this tribute to devils, shall go on?
And yet you have a wave of horror when James McNamara confesses to murdering only 21 men.
Man, the Plunderbund you vote to keep in power runs a string of bloody exhibitions from the Atlantic to the Pacific that make the McNamara performance look like thirty cents.
You have sent the McNamaras to the penitentiary at San Quentin. But what good will that do if you send a tool of the Plunderbund to the White House?
******
Just as the McNamaras are taken to the penitentiary for killing 21 men—a horrible incident, if you please, of war between labor and its masters—nearly a hundred miners are suffocated and roasted in the mines at Briceville, Tenn.
Near this scene of death, at Fraterville, in the same state, about 700 miners were put to death in 1902 by a mine explosion.
Safe-guarding appliances in the mines to prevent these holocausts cost money—explosions cost only the lives of workingmen.
Workingmen are plentiful and cost less than safety appliances and Capitalism in Christian America runs things on a cash register basis.
Capitalism can murder and devastate like a fiend with no Wave of Horror to sentence the murderers to the pen.
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