I Preferred Sewing To Bossing Little Children.

Sometimes It Seemed To Me I Could Not Look At Those Silent Little Figures; That I Must Go North, To The Grim Coal Fields, To The Rocky Mountain Camps, Where The Labor Fight Is At Least Fought By Grown Men

Men's Hearts Are Cold. They Are Indifferent.

I Preferred Sewing To Bossing Little Children.

Little Girls And Boys, Barefooted, Walked Up And Down Between The Endless Rows Of Spindles, Reaching Thin Little Hands Into The Machinery To Repair Snapped Threads

Not All The Coal That Is Dug Warms The World.