Slang
Who shall stop his ears to slang when it issues from hungry mouths—from hearts that suffer till they hate—from womanhood torn by agony or drunk on sensual joy?
Slang issues from the two mill-stones: stolid cruelty above and mad pain below. Hatred has its hiss. Iniquities have their howl. The quivering multitude has its voice—for the poor can not be deprived of their sole protest. The hiss, the howl, the voice—all coalesce into speech—this speech is slang.
The bludgeons of the law, the devastations of power, fall on the innocent as well as on the guilty. Misfortunes make us democratic. There is a democracy in the rags of misery. Democracy fraternizes the victims of that stony severity called charity; it unites the hearts that bleed and the eyes that weep; it swells in the rebellion of curses; and it hovers over all the evil diseases of our civilization. This democracy speaks slang. Thus slang is the ebullition on the surface of the
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