V ^ ^ i*T vy, '■ .■■:>•■•, V ’ .'.i • •' .' • ■■ Jl' ' p' Uw3«nwlS%<^ in 'i ’^'1 /• ^ ^ 's>- ^ >]i^ f Ji ’■ (-■.j'i’vH', %■ ^ ’;V ■••■>. , ^iv J: -- =....{V ■ . V *; ■'. ■■>;.; ■■ ; t-'j.'i' ■'•'v .., i/y , ’ K !' ■ >' :X-y y >,'■: .’■y.“- L '.*-yyi-V ‘ i'^.v:4rikr';';. :■ yi" SOCIALIST SONGS DIALOGUES AND RECITATIONS COMPILED BY JOSEPHINE R. COLE San Jose, California CHICAGO CHARLES H. KERR & COMPANY 1906 Copyright, 1905 By Charles H. Kerr & Company For be sure the new things grow As the old things fade; As we train the children so . ^ Is the future made That shall reign when we are low. All the work we would have wrought Must by them be done; We shall pass, but not our thought While in every one Lives the lesson that we taught. Mary F. Robinson. PREFACE. Please allow me to express here my appreciation of the generous readiness with which I have been met in my requests for contributions to this collection, or for permission to use poems previously published elsewhere. To the women workers in the Socialist movement this little book is affectionately dedicated. Josephine R. Cole, Compiler. I TABLE OF CONTENTS The Red Ribbon—J. R. Cole. Socialism’s Army—E. E. Hunt. Socialism’s Banner—E. E. Hunt. Co-operation—J. R. Cole... Co-operation—Samuel V. Cole... The Snow House—J. R. Cole. Ten Commandments—The Labor Leader. Exercise for Ten Children—-E. E. Hunt. Nature’s Gifts—E. E. Hunt. The Sunbeam and the Maiden—Cousin Carl. Out of Place—-Allan Brant. Exercise for Twelve Children. Work, Work, Work—E. E. Hunt. Love’s Patriot—Ernest Crosby. Rat-Ta-Tat—Samuel Avunculus Mann.... ^ . “1 Do Not ’Obey, I Think”—Ernest Crosby’.. After Dinner—J. R. Cole....... Cheer, Boys, Cheer—E. E. Hunt. A Shoe Factory Dialogue—Hebe Hallen Clark. Ring the Bells—J. R. Cole. A Cry from the Ghetto—^The Socialist Spirit. A Social Problem—Ethel Whitehead. The Wolf at the Door—Charlotte Perkins Gilman., A Marching Song—J. R. Cole. A Hint to the Wise—J. R. Cole. The Coward—Hattie Tyng Griswold. One of the People—J. R. Cole. At the Woman’s Union Meeting—J. R. Cole. A Queer Little Cobbler—Kate Cameron. An Obstacle—Charlotte Perkins Gilman. The Overflow—Allan Brant. The Father of Lies—J. R. Cole. The Day of the Lord is at Hand—Charles Kingsley What Is Socialism?—Emma E. Hunt. Sympathy. In the Days That Are to Be—J. R. Cole. 0 Say, What Is Truth?—John Jaques. The World’s Great Cup of Sorrow-^. R. C. As We Go Marching On—Social l3emocrat. Stop Quarreling, Children—J. R. C. Page .. 7 . . 9 . . 10 .. II . . 14 . . 15 . . 16 .. 17 . . 20 . . 21 . . 22 ’. . 23 . . 24 . . 25 . . 26 .. 27 .. 28 .. 30 . . 31 .. 33 . . 34 . . 35 .. 39 .. 40 .. 41 .. 42 .. 43 .. 44 .. 46 .. 47 .. 48 .. 49 .. 51 .. 52 .. 52 . . 53 .. 54 .. 54 i . 55 .. 55 Socialist Songs, Dialogues and Recitations. THE RED RIBBON. DIALOGUE. Boy and Girl. Girl wears a red ribbon. Boy does not. Boy—Good morning, Nellie. That is a pretty red rib¬ bon yon have on. Girl—That is my Socialist ribbon. Boy—Why, Nellie, are you a Socialist? Girl—Of course, I am. Boy— What is a Socialist? Girl—Why, a Socialist is a—is a—Socialist of course. My papa is a Socialist and my mamma is a Socialist and I am a Socialist. ^ Boy— What does the red ribbon mean? Girl—The red ribbon means that all the men in the world have the same kind of blood, the same color, red, the color of this ribbon. Boy— Why, that seems funny. Do you mean that the negro, with black skin and woolly hair, has blood the same color as mine? Girl—Yes, just the same color as yours and mine, red. 7 8 SOCIALIST SONGS, DIALOGUES AND RECITATIONS. Boy—Why does not it make his skin the same color, then ? I Girl—I do not know about that, but I know it is true, for once I saw a negro boy cut his finger and when the blood dropped out it was bright red, just like this. (Points to the ribbon.) Boy—Then, do you suppose the Indians and the China¬ men and the Esquimau and all the other queer people have red blood, too? Girl—Yes, everybody in the world, every man and woman, and that is what this stands for, to show that all men and women in the world are one race—the human race we call it. Boy—Who told you all that, Nellie. Girl—My papa. Doesn’t your papa tell you so? Boy—I guess he forget to tell me. (Comes a little nearer the girl.) I think that ribbon is a pretty color. Girl—If you would like a piece, I have one in my pocket you can have. (Pins it on his jacket.) Now you are a Socialist, too. When we grow up we will both vote for Socialism. Boy—Why! You can’t vote, you’re a girl. Only the men vote. Well, when I am grown up the women will vote RBC How do you know that? KcU Because my mamma says so. (They go out together.) J. R. Cole. Girl— too. Boy— Girl— SOCIALIST SONGS, DIALOGUES AND RECITATIONS. SOCIALISM’S ARMY. SONG. Tunc—“The Little Octoroon.” Socialism’s army’s marching through the land. I lark, and yon can hear its steady tread! And its mighty numbers, countless as the sand. Fill the guilty enemy with dread. V Chorus—■ Glory, glory, won’t the children sing! Glory, glory, won’t the old woods ring! When Socialism’s army marches to the sea. Making both the rich and poor man free. See the loyal standard waving to the air. Peace on earth, good will and love to man; Lifting up the millions from their deep despair; God is leading on the caravan. Chorus—' Though we’re little children, marching hand in hand, Socialism’s gospel we can spread; Driving childhood labor from the people’s land. Leaving joy where once was only dread. Chorus—■ E. E. Hunt. 10 SOCIALIST SONGS, DIALOGUES AND RECITATIONS. SOCIALISM’S BANNER. SONG. The boys and girls today are tomorrow’s men and women, The army that is going to conquer wrong; With right for our watchword we will hold aloft our standard, And this is going to be our battle song: * Chorus— Under Socialism’s banner we are marching on to freedom, It’s beams already break the morning sky, Under Socialism’s banner we are putting down oppres¬ sion ; For justice is our cry, Under Socialism’s banner every battle will be bloodless, And the bullets will be ballots bye and bye. Each mountain, bill and vale, each ocean, rill and river Are the granaries of Nature’s ample store. But with the key of gold. Greed has locked and barred the portals; Labor now is going to open every door. Chorus—• The world has room enough for everybody in it. When we’ve pushed away the dollar and the dime. For Mammon’s godless greed, and the grasp of competion Fills the world with sorrow, poverty and crime. Chorus— Then come and join our ranks, and march with us to battle. And help us as we fight our common foe. And give to all the world work, pleasure, peace and plenty. Then the millionaire and tramp will have to go. Emma E. LIunt. SOCIALIST SONGS, DIALOGUES AND RECITATIONS, 11 CO-OPERATION. DIALOGUE. Father—Well, Charlie, what have yon been doing' to¬ day while papa has been away at work? Charlie—rVe been having a fine time. I went ’way down to the wharf where the big vessels come in, and we saw a ship that was going to China. Father — Yon don’t say! Tell me all abont it. Charlie — I can’t tell yon all abont it, because there is so much to tell; bnt the nicest thing was some sailors singing. What did yon call that song they sang, mamma ? Mother — A chantey (prononnced shanti). Charlie — Oh, yes, a chantey. There was a long line of sailors pnlling on a big rope, and they were singing- something, bnt I can’t tell yon what they said, because it sonnded like some foreign langnage. Then in be¬ tween the singing they all said “Ye-ho-o, Ye-ho-o,” just like that. Did yon ever see sailors pull on a rope that way, papa? Father—Yes, Charlie, lots of times; but it does look pretty. What do you think they said Ye-ho-o for, when they were pulling? Charlie—I don’t know. What did they say it for? Father—They did that so that they would all pull to¬ gether. Didn’t yon notice that when they said ‘Y-o-o” tliey all pnlled? Charlie — Yes. Whenever they said “Ye-o-o” they all pidlcd. h'ather—Well, that is the way they keep time, and know when to ])nll on the rope. Charlie — Why do they want to pnlball together, papa? 12 SOCIALIST SONGS, DIALOGUES AND RECITATIONS. Father—Because they can pull harder when they all pull tog'ether. Do you think you could pull a broomstick out of my hand if I held it tight? Charlie-—I don’t believe I could. Father—But suppose you should get Tommy and Maggie and Jim, and all get hold of the broomstick, and all pull together, I calculate that you would get it away from me, wouldn’t you? Charlie— Yes, sir; I’m sure we could. You couldn’t hold out against the whole of us, not even a minute. Father—But suppose first you pulled, and then Maggie pulled, and then Jim pulled, would you get the broom- stick or would I keep it? Charlie—You would keep it. Father—That’s just the secret of the sailors’ singing. They wanted to pull all together, so that they would be stronger. Charlie—Oh, now I understand! They said “Ye-o-o” so that they would all pull at exactly the same time. Father—Yes, that is it. And now I want to teach you a new word. See if you can say it after me: Co-op-er-a- tion. Charlie—Co-op-er-a-tion. Father—Now I will tell you the meaning of the word. It means pulling together. Can you remember that? Co¬ operation means pulling together. Charlie—It is a long word, papa, and maybe I’ll forget the word, but I'm sure I’ll remember the meaning. Father—Now, sonnie. I’ll sing you part of an old chantey we used to sing when I was a boy: SOCIALIST SONGS, DIALOGUES AND RECITATIONS. 13 “I wish I was in Baltimore, Oh, yes, oh! A-working as a stevedore A hundred years ago. A hundred years in a very long time. Oh— yes, oh ! , A hundred years is a very long time, A hundred years ago. I wish I was in Boston town, Oh, yes, oh! To see the girls *in their new silk gowns, A hundred years ago. A hundred years is a very long time. Oh, yes, oh ! A hundred years is a very long time, A hundred years ago.” Charlie—Sing some more, papa. Father—Fve forgotten the rest. Charlie—Oh, papa, you should have seen that big ship swing around when the men pulled. It came sliding over the water just as pretty. It was such a big, big ship. You wouldn’t think the men could move it. Father—Yes, Charlie, that’s the beauty of pulling to¬ gether. And when we all pull together, toward Socialism, we’ll swing this big Ship of State right where we want her. J. R. Cole. 14 SOCIALIST SONGS, DIALOGUES AND RECITATIONS. CO-OPERATION. “Come,” said the little Ether-Atoms, “Let us cling together and march together. Millions and millions and millions are we; Let us form and march like the waves of the sea. With shoulder to shoulder, hand linked in hand. Line behind line of us. Here we stand! Steady, there! Wait for the word of command. Steady, my comrades! Is everything right? Now, all as one of us, into the night!!” So they clung together and marched together, And the world was filled with fight. “Come,” said the little Vibrations-in-Air, “Let us cling together and work together. Starting not off on our separate tracks. But all within touch, that whatever each lacks The rest may supply, and that each, great or small. May something contribute—to soar, run or crawl— Toward the one common end; there is work for us all; And mingling our efforts, the weak with the strong. Break we a path through the silence along!” So they clung together and helped one another, And the world was filled with song. “And now,” said the children of men on earth “Let us cling together, and work together. And help one another, and turn our words Into golden action, and sheathe our swords! Let us tunnel the mountain, span the plain, Stretch hands to each other across the main. And each man’s wealth be for all men’s gain; Then unto his neighbor let every one Say, ‘Be of good courage,’ and let the word run.” So they clung together, and, lo, as in heaven. His will upon earth was done. Samuel V. Cole in Youth’s Companion. (Printed by permission of Perry Mason & Company and of Ginn & Company.) SOCIALIST SONGS, DIALOGUES AND RECITATIONS. 15 THE SNOW HOUSE. DIALOGUE. Three Boys. Enter two Boys. Eirst Boy—See here! You just leave the snow alone over this side of the yard. I am building a snow house. Don’t you see it? And I want all this snow, so you leave it alone. Second Boy—^Who says I must leave it alone I am going to build a house, too, and I have as good a right to the snow as you have. Eirst Boy—If you touch this snow I’ll fight you. Second Boy—Come on, then! I’m not afraid of you. I’ll show you that I have as good a right here as you have. (Both prepare to fight. Enter third boy.) Third Boy—I say! What’s the matter? (Comes be¬ tween the other two boys.) What are you fighting about? Eirst Boy—I started to build a snow house and he’s taking away my snow. Second Boy—It isn’t your snow. You don’t own this school yard. First Boy—I had this corner first. You keep your own side of the yard. Third Boy—Oh, I say, fellows! Don’t make fools of yourselves. Let’s look into this. I see how it is. You have been practicing competition in getting snow and that’s how you’ve come to fighting. Don’t you remember what teacher told us the other day, that competition leads to fighting? I’ll tell you what let’s do. Lets try co-operation. (Turns to first boy.) You couldn’t build a very big house all by yourself. (Turns to second boy.) And neither could you. 1 • u- Now let’s all pitch in together and build a rousing big 16 SOCIALIST SONGS, DIALOGUES AND RECITATIONS. snow house, and tonight we’ll pour some water over it so that it will freeze good and solid, and then tomorrow we’ll all go inside and play we are Indians. What do you say? That will be better than fighting. First Boy—All right! Come on. Let’s get the other fellows. Second Boy—Hooray for the co-operative wigwam. (All three go ofi; together.) (The boys should wear caps, mittens and mufflers, and carry shovels.) J. R. Cole. TEN COMMANDMENTS. In the municipal schools of an Italian town, of which the Council is in the hands of the Socialists, a leaflet was distributed on May i, containing the following ten com¬ mandments : Love your school fellows, who will be your fellow work¬ men in life. Love learning, which is the food of the mind; be as grateful to your teacher as to your parents. Make every day holy by good and useful deeds and kindly actions. Honor good men, be courteous to all men, bow down to none. Do not hate or speak evil of any one; do not be revenge¬ ful, but stand up for your rights and resist oppression. Do not be cowardly. Be a friend to the weak and love justice. Remember that all the good things of the earth are produced by labor. Whoever enjoys them without work¬ ing for them is stealing the bread of the workers. Observe and think in order to discover the truth. Do SOCIALIST SONGS, DIALOGUES AND RECITATIONS. 17 not believe what is contrary to reason, and never deceive yourself for others. Do not think that he who loves his own country must hate and despise other nations, or wish for war, which is a remnant of barbarism. Look forward to the day when all men will be free citizens of one fatherland, and live together as brothers in peace and righteousness. The Labor Leader. EXERCISE EOR TEN CHILDREN. Question—First child : “How do we interpret God?” Answer—Second child : “Creator of the universe. The Father of us all. Who loves each little boy and girl And knows when sparrows fall.” Question—First child ; “What is Nature?” Answer—Third child : “God’s handmaid seen in starry space And in the forest shade, And where majestic mountains stoop To kiss each sylvan glade.” Question—First child: “What does Nature do?” Answer—Fourth child : “She makes the meadow, hill and vale. Each rivulet and rill Combine with sunshine, shower and dew Her granaries to fill.” 18 SOCIALIST SONGS, DIALOGUES AND RECITATIONS. Question—First child: “Why does she fill her granaries?” Answer—Fifth child: “That every creature ma}^ be fed, From great to very small. For this she only asks of us A little help from all.” Question—First child : “Ffow can we help Nature?” Answer—Sixth child: “We plow and cultivate the soil. We sow the seed and grain; Then Nature kindly does the rest With warmth and wind and rain.” Question—First child: “Flow does Nature provide for the insect?” Answer—Seventh child: “Within the petals of a flower Her forces all combine, And there distil a drop of dew, The insect’s food and wine.” “There on the meadow daisy’s breast Each bird and bee may sup. For there is where she spreads their feast. And fills each golden cup.” Question—First child : “What lesson should this teach ?” Answer—Eighth child: “As Nature kindly cares for all. And gives her blessings free. So should unselfish love pervade The human family.” Question—First child: “What lesson do we learn from the ant and bee?’’ / Answer—Ninth child: “Each toiling ant and busy bee. SOCIALIST SONGS, DIALOGUES AND RECITATIONS. 19 With instinct wise and rare, This lesson teaches boys and girls— That each should do his share.” Question—First child : “Apply the competitive system to a hive of bees.” Answer—Tenth child : “One bee would own the hive and comb And, too, the field of flowers. Then hire the other bees to cull Through all the weary hours.” Question—First child: “Apply the bees’ co-operative system to the human hive.” Answer—All nine children; “Within the human hive we’d see Love permeate the whole. No more would selfish greed conspire To levy tax and toll.” Emma E. Hunt. 20 SOCIALIST SONGS, DIALOGUES AND RECITATIONS. NATURE’S GIFTS. From Nature’s lab’ratory vast, from sea and from the land. In great abundance blessings come, they teem on ev’ry hand; The wind, the sunlight and the shower are agents, one and all. Of Idim who feeds Flis children, and who notes the sparrow’s fall. They bring to earth her fragrant flowers, her luscious fruit and grain; And not one word does Nature say of profit, loss and gain; But free as sunlight’s glinting rays her table forth is spread. For well the wise Creator knows His creatures must be fed. The only toll that Nature wants, the only praise she asks, Is that we put our hand in hers, and help her with her tasks. When first we put a money price on Nature’s blessings fair. We filled the earth with want and woe, with crime and its despair. Then let us drive from out the land, this grasping, greedy foe. The cause of all our slavery, our poverty and woe. With peace on earth, good will to men, we’ll sing the new born song. Attuned to Nature, every voice will Freedom’s notes prolong. Emma E. Hunt. SOCIALIST SONGS; DIALOGUES AND RECITATIONS. 21 THE SUNBEAM AND THE MAIDEN. Once upon a time a sunbeam, Passing o’er a busy town, Chanced to light upon a maiden. On whose face it saw a frown. “Now, I wonder,” said the sunbeam, “Why a frown should sear that face; I must stop a little longer And-inquire into this case.” So the little sunbeam lingered. Sending forth its brightest rays. Lighting up the mighty mansions. And the dismal alley ways. Smiling faces in the mansions Show us where its rays have been; But along the dismal alleys Not a single smile is seen. Slavish toil and slow starvation Leave their marks on every face. And a smile upon these features Seems absurdly out of place. “Can it be,” the sunbeam wondered. Smiling from the skies above, “Even I, with all my gladness. Cannot rouse a spark of love?” “Love! We have it,” said the maiden, “Hidden in each careworn breast, Tho’ the laugh of love is absent From the lips of the oppressed. Hear my answer, smiling sunbeam. When you ask why such things be. There are slaves in Merrie England, In the country of the free.” Then the sunbeam, saddened, left her. Joined the others in the sky. Saying, “Why can’t men be brothers ?” And the echoes answered, “Why?” Cousin Carl. 22 SOCIALIST SONGS, DIALOGUES ATID RECITATIONS. OUT OF PLACE. Thy little face is sad to see, A sorry story seems to be Writ there by cruel hand. Ah, little urchin with big eyes, Is there no place beneath the skies For thee, no happy land? He seemed to be a timid thing, With hardly breath enough to sing Or joy enough to play. Fie raised his eyes and looked around. His gaze then falling to the ground, He slowly walked away. I saw him look at other boys; He really seemed to fear the noise That at their play they made. Although he longed that he might be As glad and brave, as rich and free; I thought it was too l)ad. Why should so innocent a thing E’er stand in awe of boy-—or king, Or lack the hope of youth ? Why should the stamp of cruelty Thus mar the face of such as he— Of any one, forsooth ? Ah, saddest sight there is to see. When such a little thing as he Is stamped with sorrow’s care. For woe is sadly out of place When found on childhood’s tender face; No shadow should be there. Allan Brant. SOCIALIST SONGS, DIALOGUES AND RECITATIONS. 23 EXERCISE EOR TWELVE CHILDREN. First Child—Labor creates all capital, but has none. Second Child—Labor builds palaces, but lives in huts. Third Child—Labor weaves the most beautiful gar¬ ments of silk, wool and linen, but wears shoddy, rags and patches. Fourth Child—Labor prepares the most delicious, nu¬ tritious foods, but lives upon unwholesome adulterations. Fifth Child—Labor builds street cars, carriages and automobiles, but walks. Sixth Child—Labor builds streets and public highways, but is not allowed free assemblage upon them. Seventh Child—Labor builds schools and universities, but remains in ignorance. Eighth Child—Labor builds labor-saving machines, but works on harder than ever. Ninth Child—Labor manufactures rifles and gatling guns with which to be shot when it strikes for its rights. Tenth Child—Labor has the ballot, but does not know how to use it. Eleventh Child—Labor has brains and ability to change all this, but is too cowardly to stand up for its rights. Twelfth Child—The hard ivork of the laboring class has so deadened their sensibilities that they can’t feel it when they are being skinned. All ask, “What?” Child repeats, “The hard work,” etc. All reply, “Yes, that’s so, “the hard work of,” etc- 24 SOCIALIST SONGS, DIALOGUES AND RECITATIONS. WORK, WORK, WORK. Work, work, work, and hasten in the day When tasks will all be pleasant ones and work will be but play. Put the shoulder to the wheel and push the load away. That makes the workingman a slave and Mammon’s easy prey. Then strike, strike, strike, nor heed the worldly jeer; Strike while the iron’s hot—have courage, never fear; The world is all your own, with plenty standing near; Then strike for right and liberty, and all that you hold dear^ Then talk, talk, talk; let everybody talk; For Capital is on your track and would your purpose balk ; At home or abroad in all your daily walk. Stand firm by your convictions, boys, and let your actions talk. Then fight, fight, fight, for fighting’s not a sin. When ballots are the cannon-balls, and love’s the javelin; Fight Capital and War and all their kith and kin, ’Twill be a bitter fight, my boys, but you are going to win. Emma E. Hunt. SOCIALIST SONGS, DIALOGUES AND RECITATIONS. 25 LOVE’S PATRIOT. I saw a lad, a beautiful lad, With a far-off look in his eye. Who smiled not at the battle-flag When the cavalry troop marched by. And sorely vexed, I asked the lad Where might his country be Who cared not for our country’s flag And the brave from over-sea ? “Oh, my country is the Land of Love,” Thus did the lad reply; “My country is the Land of Love And a patriot there am 1.” “And who is your king, my patriot boy, ♦ Whom loyally you obey ?” “My king is Freedom,” quoth the lad, “And he never says me nay.” “Then you do as you like in your Land of Love, Where every man is free?” “Nay, we do as we love,” replied the lad, And his smile fell full on me. Ernest Crosby. 26 SOCIALIST SONGS, DIALOGUES AND RECITATIONS. RAT-TA-TAT! Said Sam, '‘Will you go to the war?” Said I, “Not a bit!” What is the nonsense all for? Are we cocks in a pit?” “For the maudlin princes to gawp at— These lordlings of boodle and blood— To gamble upon, and yawp at. As though we were mud?” Said Sam, “Will you join the militia? You can march and have fun. Just around at the drill room— And carry a gun ! “You needn’t go off to Manila, But march out on sprees— You can sleep at your home on a pillow And never need freeze ?” “Go to!” said I, “foolish parader! Will you kill fellow toilers on strike? If our country needs yeomen to aid her ’Tis such honest workmen they’re like!” Said Sam, “You’ll get glory and pension!” Said I, “Very fine! But the bullet wounds gory don’t mention! I decline!” Samuel Avunculus Mann SOCIALIST SONGS, DIALOGUES AND RECITATIONS. 27 I “I DO NOT OBEY, I THINK.” “Captain, what do you think,” I asked, “Of the part your soldiers play?” The captain answered, “I do not think—■ I do not think, I obey.” “Do you think your conscience was meant to die. And your brains to rot away?” The captain answered, “I do not think— I do not think, I obey.” “Do you think you should shoot a patriot down And help a tyrant slay?” The captain answered, “I do not think—• I do not think, I obey.” “Then if this is your soldier’s code,” I cried, “You’re a mean, unmanly crew; And with all your feathers and gilt and braid, I am more of a man than you. “For whatever my lot on earth may be And whether I swim or sink, I can say with pride, “I do not obey—• I do not obey, I think.” Ernest Crosby. 28 SOCIALIST SONGS, DIALOGUES AND RECITATIONS. AFTER DINNER. DIALOGUE. Mother—Well, my son, have you had enough? Tom—Yes, ma’am. I’m almost too full for utterance. I don’t believe Vanderbilt’s Erench cook could beat that dinner.” Eather—Eunny how much better a man feels after a good meal, isn’t it? I’m on good terms with everybody just now.” Nancy—I wouldn’t care about Vanderbilt’s dinners anyway. I’d rather have turkey roasted the way mother roasts it, and cranberry sauce and squash pie, than all Vanderbilt’s Erench dishes. This dinner is good enough for anybody, isn’t it, mother? Mother (sighing)—Yes, Nancy; I only wish everybody could have as good a dinner as this is. Nancy—Now, mother, why did you say that, and spoil my pleasure? You know we don’t want people to be hungry. Mother—I know that, Nancy, but somehow I couldn’t help thinking of it, and speaking of it. When we think of all the poor people who don’t have enough to eat, it seems an awful thing. Eather—Yes, children, when you consider how some people live, you ought to feel thankful for what you have. You are a lot better off than some folks. Tom—I don’t look at it that way at all. It don’t do me any good to see other folks suffer. When I am having a good time it spoils my pleasure, and when I am having a bad time it only makes me mad to look around and see a lot of other fellows as bad off or worse. I don’t see why I should be happy because another fellow is in trouble. Father—It ought to make you appreciate what you have when you see others without it. If you get enough to eat and drink, it is something to be thankful for, I take it. Nancy—Well, I’m sure, as far as I’m concerned, I wish I SOCIALIST SONGS, DIALOGUES AND RECITATIONS. 29 everybody could have enough to make them all com- ' fortable. I would like to-have everybody happy, and then I could be happy too, and eat my dinner and not think of^ the poor people who don’t have it; but we can’t help things, so what’s the use worrying about them. The best thing we can do is to take what we have, and get all we can and enjoy it, and not think about those who have to go without. But it does make me cross to have people tell me to be glad because I have more than other folks. I don’t feel that way at all. Tom—I heard a man arguing on that point with a Socialist the other day. The Socialist was telling how we could manage things so that everybody could have enough to eat and be comfortable, and the other man said that people wouldn’t like that. He said that it- made men happier to see others not so well off as themselves. I felt like breaking into the conversation and saying what I thought, but I didn’t. Nancy—Why, Tom, was he a real Socialist? What did he say ? What did he look like ? Tom—Oh, he looked just like anybody else, of course, two eyes and two ears, and so forth. Did you think he was a monstrosity, Nancy? Nancy—No, but I thought the Socialists were very queer, and perhaps he looked kind of crazy, or something. Where did you see him, Tom? I wish I could see one. Tom—Well, you can see Socialists almost any time you want to. They speak on the common every Sunday after¬ noon. I’ve heard them several times. Nancy—What is Socialism, father ? Father—I don’t know exactly. Some sort of a scheme for doing away with the poor, I believe, and making everybody happy. I have never found out exactly what their plan is. Nancy—Oh, Tom, will they let women go to their meetings ? Tom—Why, yes, if they want to. Of course, they were 30 SOCIALIST SONGS, DIALOGUES AND RECITATIONS. mostly men in the crowd when I was there, but there is nothing to hinder a woman from going. Nancy—Will you take me, Tom? Tom—I don’t care, if mother says so. You’ll have to ask her. Mother—Well, if any one is trying to find some way to do away with all the suffering and misery in the world, I think it cannot do us any harm to listen to them. Take Nancy with you, Tom, and when she comes back she can tell me all about it. J. R. Cole. CHEER, BOYS, CHEER. Cheer, boys, cheer! away with idle sorrow ! The new day’s dawn is breaking on our sight. The star of hope points out the bright tomorrow; Let us forget the long and gloomy night. Let us forget the gnawing pangs of hunger, The long hours of toil that brought us no reward; Let us forget the chains now rent asunder, And bask in the sunshine of freedom now restored. Chorus— Cheer, boys, cheer ! No more of idle sorrow ! Cheer, boys, cheer, united now we stand. Cheer, boys, cheer! All hail the bright tomorrow. Cheer, boys, cheer for Columbia’s happy land. Cheer, boys, cheer! No more of idle shirking! Give to the world the willing, strong right hand. Where duty calls, there happiness is lurking; Cheer, boys, cheer for Columbia’s happy land. Now we have found in man a loving neighbor. Who once was a foe that we must meet and fight. Now peace and plenty smiles upon our labor. Heaven on earth is dawning, and now we see aright. Chorus— E. E. Hunt. SOCIALIST SONGS, DIALOGUES AND RECITATIONS. 31 A SHOE FACTORY DIALOGUE. By Hebe Hallen Clark. (A noon-hour conversation between three employes of a shoe faetory.) Tom—I don’t know how you fellows feel, but I’m about all in. Dick—So^n I. Wish we didn’t have to work so hard. Harry—Hush. You ought to be glad you’ve got a job. Dick—I am glad, but wouldn’t it keep if we left some of it until tomorrow ? Harry—Oh, yes, it would keep all right, but then you know we can’t have everything we want. Dick—Can’t have everything we want? You talk like a sausage! We never get nothin’ but work, and that comes in bunches. The rest of the time we go around and beg for that. Tom (to himself)—Guess I’ll read some. (Takes paper out of pocket and begins to read.) Harry—Ah, you give me a pain! You are always wantin’ somethin’ you can’t have. Dick—Yes, and gettin’ somethin’ I don’t want. Tom—Be calm now, boys, be calm. Harry—You’d better cut that out, Dick! Suppose the boss ’ud come around suddenly and hear that? Dick—Fire me, of course. Harry—Sh—. What d’ I tell you? Here he comes now. (Boss walks leisurely across the stage.) Dick—But, honest, now, don’t it seem like a durn shame that a few can strut around like that feller and have so much that they don’t know what to do with it, while the rest of us have to work like convicts and then never have nuthin’ ? Harry—Say, you’re one of them chronic grumblers— aint never satisfied with nuthin’. Dick—You’ve about struck it. Aint got nuthin’ to be 32 SOCIALIST SONGS, DIALOGUES AND RECITATIONS. satisfied with. Besides, it’s pretty tough to live in speak- in’ distance of starvation all the time and never have nuthin’ to look forward to but hard work, cheap food, ragged clothes and a cut in wages. Tom-—Say, what ticket did you geezers vote at last election ? Harry—What ticket did we vote ? I don’t* see as that’s got anything to do with it, but I voted the Republican ticket, of course. Tom—I thought so. Dick—Well, you don’t catch me votin’ that ticket. I voted the good old Democratic ticket—against imperial¬ ism and government by injunction. Tom—Oh, I see! (addressing Harry) You voted the Republican ticket because you are satisfied; and you (ad¬ dressing Dick) voted the Democratic ticket because you are against everything. Harry (speaking angrily)—You’re mighty cute aint you. I suppose you’re too nice to vote! Tom—I voted all right. My vote was cast for the prin¬ ciples that will make it possible for me to be my own boss. You voted for some one else to do your thinking for you. Dick—Well, what if we did? They know more nor we do. Workingmen can’t expect to be nuthin’ but work¬ ingmen, and we can’t know as much as the bosses. Tom—Well, if you are satisfied to be wage-slaves all your days, be consistent and don’t find fault with the way the bosses treat you. Do as you are told and you’ll do all the hard work and they’ll get the benefit of it. As for me, I recognize their authority over my labor v/hile at work for them, but my mind is my own and I vote as I strike—for better conditions. (Whistle blows, and Dick and Harry hurry to its call, while Tom folds his paper and walks leisurely, as though he were not afraid of his life.) SOCIALIST SONGS, DIALOGUES AND RECITATIONS. 33 RING THE BELLS. Ring the bells ! Ring! Ring! Ring! Tidings of joy I bring. He whom we ’counted slain, Draws breath of life again. Ring the bells! Ring! Ring the bells! Ring I Ring! Ring! Labor has learned his right; Opens his eyes to light; Rises again in might. Ring the bells ! Ring! Ring the bells ! Ring I Ring! Ring! Wonderful news I bring. Gone is the lust of blood; Gone is the cry for food. Ring the bells ! Ring! • Ring the bells 1 Ring I Ring 1 Ring! Hark to the news I bring. Men have their manhood found. Comrades the whole world round. Ring the bells ! Ring! J. R. Cole. 34 SOCIALIST SONGS, DIALOGUES AND RECITATIONS. A CRY FROM THE GHETTO. {From the Yiddish of Morris Rosenfeld.) The roaring of the wheels has. filled my ears, The clashing and the clamor shut me in; Myself, my soul, in chaos disappears, I cannot think or feel amid the din. Toiling and toiling and toiling—endless toil. For whom? For what? Why should the work be done? I do not ask, or know. I only toil. I work until the day and night are one. The clock above me ticks away the day. Its hands are spinning, spinning, like the wheels. It cannot sleep or for a moment stay. It is a thing like me, and does not feel. It throbs as tho’ my heart were beating there—■ A heart? My heart? I know not what it means. The clock ticks, and below I strive and stare. And so we lose the hour. We are machines. Noon calls a truce, an ending to the sound. As if a battle had one moment stayed— A bloody field ! The dead lie all around; Their wounds cry out until I grow afraid. It comes—the signal! See, the dead men rise. They fight again, amid the roar they fight. Blindly, and knowing not for whom, or why. They fight, they fall, they sink into the night. The Socialist Spirit. SOCIALIST SONGS, DIALOGUES AND RECITATIONS. 35 A SOCIAL PROBLEM. DIALOGUE FOR TWO BOYS. Boy—Sa}^, pa! (Pa pretends not to hear.) Boy—Say, pa! (Willie’s eyes are round and ques¬ tioning.) Pa—Don’t bother, I’m busy. Boy—Well, but pa. I want to know- Pa—Oh, don’t bother me. (A pause.) Boy—Say, pa! Pa—Well, what is it? Boy—Say, pa, were you ever hungry ? Pa—Hungry ! Why, of course. Boy—I mean very hungry—have nothing to eat for a long, long time? Pa—Of course, not; it’s only lazy people who are. Boy—Oh! Is Tom Smith lazy? Pa—Who ? Boy—Tom Smith, the man you sent away from the mills, ’cos you said times was bad, an’ you couldn’t afford to keep him. Pa—Why—er—Smith always seemed steady and in¬ dustrious. Boy—-’Dustrious meaiLS, not lazy ? Pa—Yes, my son. Boy—Well, Tom Smith is starving. Lie’s all thin an’—• Say, is times bad now ? Pa—Yes, my son, work is slack. Boy—There’s whole lots of stuff in the mills, aint there ? Pa—Yes. Now, I’m glad to see you taking an interest. Will, and I’ll explain. You see, that’s just it, all that stuff can’t be sold; there’s too much of it; we’ve made more than is wanted, so we must wait until it’s sold; then we can make some more. Boy—Why aint it sold, pa? There’s lots of people haven’t got clothes. I saw a little boy all in rags today. 36 SOCIALIST SONGS, DIALOGUES AND RECITATIONS. an’ I see lots other times. Why can’t they get them when there’s such lots of cloth an’ stuff? Pa—Why, my dear boy, because they haven’t the money. Boy—Why haven’t they the money ? Pa—Well—er—I don’t know; probably because they are careless, or perhaps they drink, or their fathers do. Boy—Pa, why don’t you give that cloth to some of the people that haven’t any clothes, an’ then- Pa—My son, you don’t understand; I could not do such a thing, or perhaps you would have no clothes. Boy—An’ you wouldn’t like that, pa? Pa—Of course, not. Boy—Do you s’pose that little boy’s pa likes it ? Pa—No, I expect not, but these things must be; it’s our duty to help the deserving poor. Boy—Let’s help Tom Smith, then, pa. Seems like you ought; it’s your fault he’s out of work, aint it? Pa—My fault! Certainly not. I have already ex¬ plained, William, that I have no work for the man. Boy—Well, his little girl is awfully sick. Can’t you send her to the beach ? Pa—^William! I have not money to spare to send every child that is sick to the beach; and, besides, it would only put notions in her head that are not good for’ her. She’ll get along all right. Boy—When I was sick I went to the beach. Pa—Well, be thankful you have a father who can af¬ ford to send you. Boy—Do you think Tom Smith’s little girl is thankful ? Pa—Why—er—she ought to be. Boy—^What for? ’Cos she’s sick, an’ can’t go to the beach, an’ her pa’s out of work ? Pa Well, it’s her duty to be grateful and contented, and bear the chastenings of God. SOCIALIST SONGS, DIALOGUES AND RECITATIONS. 37 Boy—Did God make it so you had to send Tom Smith away? Pa—Eh? Oh, don’t ask such ridiculous questions. Boy—Well, pa! but did He? Pa—Er—oh, I don’t know; I guess so. Boy—Well, is the Lord’s prayer true. Pa—Certainly it is. Boy—Well, it says; “Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” Do they do so in heaven? Pa—Do what? Boy—Why, have some people as has a good time, an’ others that has a bad time? • Pa—No; they all have a good time in heaven. Boy—Well, I don’t see— Say, pa! does God like you having a saloon? Pa—What I Boy—Why, I heard you talking about it the other day; you said what lots of money it brought you. Tom Smith went there today. Pa_William 1 These are things you are too young to understand. Boy—Tom Smith looked at the door a long time, an’ then he went in, an’ he says, I must forget, I must for¬ get.” I ’spect he wanted to forget how bad things was at home, didn’t he ? Pa_William, if the man is such a fool as to spend his money on drink, he must expect to be poor. Boy—Would you keep a saloon if it didn’t pay ? Pa—Of course not. Boy_Tom Smith’s money helps me to have things, doesn’t it? Pa_Er— yes, yes. There, that’s enough; go to bed now, like a good boy. Boy— Didn’t Tom Smith help make cloth in the mills, too ? 38 SOCIALIST SONGS, DIALOGUES AND RECITATIONS. Pa—He made cloth, and I paid him for doing it. Boy—Well, you had to have some one, didn’t you? Pa—Oh, yes. Boy—Well—then Tom Smith pays you for a drink, and Tom Smith helped you get your cloth made. Don’t you think you ought to help Tom Smith? Pa—William, if you ask another question Pll whip you. Go to bed at once—and, William, Tom Smith shall have work tomorrow. (Boy goes out.) Pa (left alone, mutters angrily)—Plague take that child and his unanswerable questions. My hiring Tom Smith will not help the rest of the starving people, and—good heavens! its horrible to think of—but what can I do. Oh, pshaw! it’s no use getting worked up over it. I’ll give Tom Smith work to please the boy, but 1 can’t be doing much of that kind of thing, or I’ll be ruined myself, and what good would that do. That crazy fool of a Socialist that I heard ranting on the street had one thing right when he said the employers could not settle the question. I should say not; it’s too much for me. Let Tom Smith and the rest of his kind work it out for themselves, I and the other employers have enough to do to take care of ourselves. Ethel Whitehead. Pasadena, California. SOCIALIST SONGS, DIALOGUES AND RECITATIONS. 39 THE WOLF AT THE DOOR. There’s a haunting horror near us That nothing drives away— Fierce lamping eyes at nightfall, A crouching shade by day; There’s a whining at the threshold, There’s a scratching at the floor— To work ! To work ! In Heaven’s name ! The wolf is at the door! The day was long, the night was short, The bed was hard and cold. Still weary are the little ones. Still weary are the old. We are weary in our cradles. From our mother’s toil untold. We are born to hoarded weariness. As some to hoarded gold. We will not rise! We will not work; Nothing the day can give Is half so sweet as an hour of sleep; Better to sleep than live! What power can stir these heavy limbs ? What hope these dull hearts swell ? What fear more cold, what pain more sharp. Than the life we know so well ? To die like a man by lead or by steel Is nothing that we should fear; No human death would be worse to feel Than the life that holds us here. But this is a fear that no heart can face— A fate no man can dare— To be run to the earth and die by the teeth Of the gnawing monster there. The slow, relentless, padding step That never goes astray— 40 SOCIALIST SONGS, DIALOGUES AND RECITATIONS. The rustle in the uiiderbush— The shadow in the way—• The straining flight—the long pursuit— The steady gain behind— Death-wearied man and tireless brute, And the struggle wild and blind! There’s a hot breath at the keyhole And a tearing as of teeth! Well do I know the bloodshot eyes And the dripping jaws beneath ! There’s a whining at the threshold— There’s a scratching at the floor— To work! To work! in Heaven’s name! The wolf is at the door. Charlotte Perkins Gilman. A MARCHING SONG. There are fruits to be gathered in the gardens of the gods, Come, Brother, come. There are sheaves to be garnered, there are grapes to be trod. Come, Brother, come. Rich are the treasures in the land of our desire. Sweet are the pleasures to which our hearts aspire. Under the willows we build our evening fire. Come, Brother, come. Freemen and bold do we march by the way. Come, Brother, come. Onward we journey in the light of the day. Come, Brother, come. Green are the fields in the land we shall gain. Fair are the hillsides, and fertile the plain. Sweet are its waters, and golden its grain. Come, Brother, come. The hands that can pluck are the hands that shall hold, Come, Brother, come. SOCIALIST SONGS, DIALOGUES AND RECITATIONS 41 Ours for the taking are the silver and gold, Come, Brother, come. Long in that land of delight will we stay, ’Mid its green pastures our children shall play, daily we journey, and we sing hy the way, Come, Brother, come. J. R. Cole. A HINT TO THE WISE. DIALOGUE FOR TWO GIRLS. Mrs. A.—Did you see the Woman’s Column in the last issue of the “Coming Nation”? Mrs. B.—No; Jack just grabbed that paper and stuck it in his pocket and carried it off before I had time to look at it. I simply can’t break him of that. The minute he sees a paper, he picks it up and begins to read it, and be¬ fore I know it he has carried it off to the shop with him and given it away. Mrs. A.—Well, why don’t you have a paper coming in your own name, so that you can get a chance to read it? Mrs. B.—Goodness sake! We are taking about a hun¬ dred magazines and papers now. Jack takes all the So¬ cialist papers he knows about, and bundles of some of them. Mrs. A.—And all in his own name, I suppose. Mrs. B.—Oh, yes, they’re in his name. Mrs. A.—Well, it’s no wonder the managers of Socialist papers don’t give much space to tlie women, when all their subs, come in in men’s names. Mrs. B.—Well, I do just as much work for the cause as Jack does, I reckon, down there at the hall washing up all the dishes after the last entertainment, training Minnie and Robbie to sing Socialist songs for the concert, and o-etting dinner for every stray Socialist that comes to town. Tack brings them all here. Of course, I’m glad to see them, but I think that’s work for Socialism as much js anything Jack does. A.—Of course, it is, hut the managers of the 42 SOCIALIST SONGS, DIALOGUES AND RECITATIONS papers don’t know anything- about it. All they know about is the names of subscribers, and if those names are all men’s names, they take it for granted that the workers are all men. You believe in equal opportunity for women and men, don’t you? Mrs. B.—-Why, yes, of course I do. Mrs. A.—Well, then, you just request Jack to have half of all the magazines and papers be orders come in your name, and when you g'et yours, hold on to them long enough to read them. Good-by. (Outside the door.) I’ll bet she won’t have spunk enough to say that she wants one paper coming in her own name, let alone half. J. R. Cole. TBIE COWARD. Who fails to strike when man’s assailed. For fear of selfish pain or loss; Who weakly cowers when right is nailed Upon the proud world’s heavy cross; Who fails to speak the splendid word Of hold defiance to a lie ; Whose voice for truth is faintly heard When party passions mount on high, That man’s a coward; and no deeds Of valor done on fields of strife Can prove his courage. Battle meeds Are naught beside a tested life. Who dallies with temptation’s lure Nor hurls his tempter to the ground; Who champions not the weak, the poor. Whom power and strength with cords have bound; Who crouches ’neath opinion’s lash, Nor dares his own true thought proclaim ; Who never with an impulse rash Ran on before his time, is tame. Is coward, and no work uprears Which lasts. Truth’s edict from on high Says courage shall outlast the years, But every coward soul shall die. SOCIALIST SONGS, DIALOGUES AND RECITATIONS 43 ONE OF THE PEOPLE. I am one of the common people, of the great unbred stock Who plant, and gather the harvest, and tend the herd and the flock; Those who sail across the waters, and burrow in the mine; Who spin and weave, and fashion the robe, and trace the jeweled design; Whose hands have forged the plow-share, and tempered the fine-wu'ought steel; Who have shaped the sail and the rudder, and built the loom and the wheel; Who have changed the earth to a garden, to meet the need of man; Who have done the work of the human race since the human race began. Oh, I am one of the people, and I glory in my birth; No good for me that cannot be shared by my kin through all the earth; No glory or favor to set me apart, only the knowledge good That I am one of the many, born of their flesh and blood. Only to share the common joy, and carry the common load. To meet and greet my brothers along the dusty road; To stand with my fellows side by side, and meet them eye to eye. Just to be one of the common stock, who toil and love and die. Yes, I am of the people, of the great unhred stock Who sow the seed, and gather the grain, and tend the herd and the flock. No good for me that cannot be shared by my kin through all the earth; I am one of the common people, and I glory in my birth. J. R. C. 44 SOCIALIST SONGS, DIALOGUES AND RECITATIONS AT THE WOMAN’S UNION MEETING. DIALOGUE FOR YOUNG WOMEN. DIALOGUE. Emma Jane—Oh, dear! This is discouraging. Here we are, just the same four people who are always here, and no one else. And they all say they will come; oh, they are very anxious to come. They are all so inter¬ ested in Socialism, and want to learn more about it, but when the night of meeting comes no one appears. Ethelinda—I don’t think the organizations are what will bring about Socialism, anyway. I think you can do more outside the organizations than inside them. I have made a great many Socialists, just by conversation, and lending them books and papers. They are thorough So¬ cialists, but they don’t belong to our Socialist organiza¬ tions. Emma Jane—Do you mean 'that you don’t believe in the usefulness of the Socialist Party—or of the Woman’s Socialist Union—or that you don’t believe that any sort of organization is useful for our propaganda work? Ethelinda—I mean any sort of organization. I think we can do more acting as individuals, speaking to our friends, and distributing literature, than we can do either in the Socialist party or the Woman’s Socialist Union. Nellie—Well, I never would have met any of you girls if it hadn’t been for this Union, and I didn’t know much of anything about Socialism until I got acquainted with the rest of you, and we talked things over. Florence—I hold that we have done a great deal for so small a number. We always have a good attendance at our socials; and our box in the park, for Socialist litera¬ ture, is doing lots of good. Besides, didn’t we have one of the bright, shining lights of Socialism come here and speak under our auspices ? I think we ought to take pride in ourselves. Emma Jane—Yes, but let’s come back to what Ethe¬ linda says about our doing more as individuals than we can in an organization. Let’s think that over. Ethelinda—Of course, it is pleasant meeting you girls. SOCIALIST SONGS, DIALOGUES AND RECITATIONS 45 and I am willing to do my part toward keeping the thing going, as you know, and take my share of the work; but what I say is that we cannot do a great deal of propa¬ ganda in this way, and I believe that individual action is better. Emma Jane—Now answer me this, Ethelinda, isn’t^ it Socialist doctrine that the organization of our industries is going to be a great saving of labor, and don’t we claim that we shall get better results from the same effort when labor is organized than we do now ? And don t the So¬ cialists all claim that one of the chief reasons that people are poor today is that labor is wasted by individual effort put forth without system or mutual understanding; that is, without organization? Ethelinda—Why, yes, of course. _ _ Emma Jane—Then how can you claim to be a Socialist if you think that individuals can accomplish more acting separately than they can when acting together? Ethelinda—H-m-m! Emma Jane—Why, Ethelinda, on what ground do you advocate Socialism, if you think individual effort is more profitable? _ _ n • Nellie—I guess she has been thinking of the collective ownership side of the question, and imagining how nice it would be to get her share of the good things. Emma Jane—Oh, yes, I see! But once we gain our collective ownership, how can we keep our ownership^ if we do not organize ourselves for the management of it? This is just as essential to Socialist principle as the get¬ ting possession. . , . • No, girls, I am sure it is not the principle of organization that is at fault if we don’t do as much as we would like. It is our fault. We haven’t found the best way of work¬ ing. If socials and distribution of literature are most effec¬ tive, then we must give ourselves up to socials and litera¬ ture, and drop the plans that don’t work. Of course, I don’t claim that our organizations coyer the whole ground. There is plenty of room for individual effort, too, and maybe just now individuals are doing more than our or- 46 SOCIALIST SONGS, DIALOGUES AND RECITATIONS g-anization, but that isn’t the question. The question is this: Can any certain number of people who want to spread Socialist doctrine do more by uniting and co-oper¬ ating than by acting independently? If they can’t, then I hold that we might as well drop the Socialist propa¬ ganda at once, for if we cannot get better returns for our labor by co-operating than by acting independently, then Socialism is a misleading vision. Florence—I notice that it is the organizations the capi¬ talists are afraid of. We might talk sentiment as much as we please, and they wouldn’t care, but when we get to¬ gether they begin to be interested. Emma Jane—For my own part, I believe that it is the people who are practicing organization and co-operation in different lines of work, who are bringing about the co¬ operative commonwealth, far more than those who are preaching it and not practicing it. I don’t mean the co¬ operative colonies, either, though they are honestly trying to live up to their creed. What I mean is the organiza¬ tion of industry going on everywhere, the combinations of business firms, the consolidations of similar enterprises, the getting together of workmen in labor unions. These people are putting into practice a part of our teaching; that is, that co-operation and organization are useful and efficient. They are proving the truth of this theory, even if they don’t profess it. I can’t help being discouraged when I see how far we fall short of doing what we hoped to do, but I still cling desperately to my faith in the prin¬ ciple of organization, and am ready to believe that our union will yet prove its usefulness. J. R. Cole. A QUEER LITTLE COBBLER. A queer little cobbler, I’ve heard people say. Sat stitching and stitching the whole livelong day. ^^It is very hard work, but no matter,” quoth he, Eor the shoes of the people depend upon me. Though the leather be tough, there’s but one thing to do— 111 pull and 111 push till the needle goes through!” SOCIALIST SONGS, DIALOGUES AND RECITATIONS 47 His queer little wife came and coaxed him, “My dear. With leather like that it will take you a year,” And the folks in the street stopped and said, “My good sir, You may pull and may push, hut your needle won’t stir.” But the cobbler stitched on. “And whatever I do,” He said, “I shall work till this needle goes through!” He sat on the bench till it verged upon night. His wife lit a candle and brought it for light. “ ’Tis at times rather hard,” with a sigh, remarked he, “That the shoes of the people depend upon me. But since it is so there’s but one thing to do!” So he pulled and he pushed, and the needle went through. Kate Cameeon in St. Nicholas. AN OBSTACLE. I was climbing up a mountain-path With many things to do. Important business of my own, And other people’s too, When I ran against a Prejudice That quite cut off the view. My work was such as could not wait. My path quite clearly showed. My strength and time were limited, I carried quite a load; And there that hulking Prejudice Sat all across the road. So I spoke to him politely. For he was huge and high, And begged that he would move a hit And let me travel by. Pie smiled, but as for moving !— He didn’t even try. And then I reasoned quietly 48 SOCIALIST SONGS, DIALOGUES AND RECITATIONS With that colossal mule: My time was short—no other path— The mountain winds were cool. I argued like a Solomon; He sat there like a fool. Then I flew into a passion, I danced and howled and swore. I pelted and belabored him Till I was stiff and sore; He got as mad as I did—■ But he sat there as before. And then I begged him on my knees; I might be kneeling still If so I hoped to move that mass Of obdurate ill-will— • , As well invite the monument To vacate Bunker Hill! So I sat before him helpless. In an ecstasy of woe—■ The mountain mists were rising fast, The sun was sinking slow— When a sudden inspiration came, As sudden winds do blow. I took my hat, I took my stick, My load I settled fair, I approached that awful incubus With an absent-minded air—■ And I walked directly thru him, As if he wasn’t there !” Charlotte Perkins Gilman. THE OVERFLOW. A little bird woke suddenly And burst out into song. The glad, sweet notes it caroled forth Were heard the whole day long. SOCIALIST SONGS, DIALOGUES AND RECITATIONS 49 For when it raised its little voice And sang so cheerily, A dozen other songsters near Woke up and sang with glee. And soon the birds for miles around Were echoing that song; Now here, now there, the chorus rose And ever rolled along. Somehow that woodland happiness Found way to haunts of men; Reflected in bright faces there. Its beauty glowed again. And so the sweetness and the joy Of that first waking bird Were, here and there, the livelong day, Continuously heard. Thus life flows on to more and more And larger sympathy. And souls feed on the overflow Of souls that may not see. Allan Brant. THE FATHER OF LIES. With his black, black heart, and his swarthy skin, And his evil eyes, he stands. Toil has not hardened his slender frame. Nor stiffened his supple hands; But ever he watches the deeds of men With a satisfaction grim. And aids in the schemes, and fosters the dreams Of those who a])peal to him. He sees the maid in her lover’s arms; He notes the fond caress; And he hates with the bitter hate of hell, 50 SOCIALIST SONGS, DIALOGUES AND RECITATIONS The love that can cheer and bless. And still with a free and ready hand He feeds the lips with lies; Till the joy to sorrow and bitterness turns, And the winner spurns the prize. But ’tis with a covert, cynical smile He turns from the sight again; For he knows that the man who has bartered his truth. The slayer himself is slain. The priests and the preachers and teachers of men. All pay him obeisance sweet. And wonderful tales from their lips flow forth. In words that are fine and meet; But the stumbling feet and the blinded eyes For guidance ask in vain. They seek the truth, and ye give them lies. Ye misled leaders of men. Honored and great in the Halls of State Sit the mighty of the land. The people toil and sweat and moil. They feed them from their hand. And “Order” and “Justice,” and “Law” they speak. But the prisons ring with cries. And the law is sold and bought with gold. Lies, lies, and only lies! With an air sedate, and a sober mien The good man comes and goes. Fie pays his tax, he fears the laws; ’Tis said he has no foes. But the Father of Lies and he are friends. Old friends, I do aver. His heart is a dwelling of the dead, A whited sepulchre. And over it all he aye looks on. With his dark and evil eyes. And joys in the ruin, the pain and wrong, The infamous Father of Lies. J. R. Cole. SOCIALIST SONGS, DIALOGUES AND RECITATIONS 51 THE DAY OF THE LORD IS AT HAND. The Day of the Lord is at hand, at hand! Its storms roll up the sky; The nations sleep starving on heaps of gold; All dreamers toss and sigh; The night is darkest before the morn; When the clouds are heavy, then breaks the dawn; And the Day of the Lord is at hand! The Day of the Lord is at hand! Gather you, gather you, angels of God— Freedom and Mercy and Truth! Oh, come! for the earth is grown coward and old! Come down, and renew us her youth. Wisdom, Self-sacrifice, Daring and Love, Haste to the battle-field, stoop from above To the Day of the Lord at hand! The Day of the Lord at hand! Gather you, gather you, hounds of Llell Famine and Plague and War; Idleness, Bigotry, Cant and Misrule, Gather, and fall in the snare! Hireling, Mammonite, Bigot and Knave, Crawl to the battle-field, sneak to your grave. In the Day of the Lord at hand! The Day of the Lord at hand! Who’d sit down and sign for a lost age of gold. While the Lord of All Ages is here ? True hearts will leap up at the trumpet of God, And those who can suffer can dare. Each old age of gold was an iron age, too. And the meekest of saints may find stern work to do. In the Day of the Lord at hand 1 The Day of the Lord at hand! Charles Kingsley. . 52 SOCIALIST SONGS, DIALOGUES AND RECITATIONS WHAT IS SOCIALISM? A voice that cries from out the wilderness; “Prepare ye for the coming of the light That will the crooked paths of wrong make right.” ’Tis Mammon facing its own sordidness— The world’s awakening unto righteousness, The passing of Humanity’s long night. ’Tis Freedom’s dawn now breaking on the sight. Dispelling clouds of wrong and wretchedness. It is that faith that finds a heaven here; That hope that looks for better things toTe; The charity that covers error’s bier, And love that fills the world with harmony. It is the drying up of sorrow’s tear, The resurrection morn that sets us free. Emma E. Hunt. SYMPATFIY. The sweetest thing in all the world is love— To know that men will bear each other’s pain ; Since man will sometimes suifer thus, does prove That he the loftiest heights will somehow gain For men will see that loving sympathy, Resistlessly, can move the world along— No load so heavy that it cannot be Borne by a world united ’gainst the wrong. SOCIALIST SONGS, DIALOGUES AND RECITATIONS 53 IN THE DAYS THAT ARE TO BE. • Oh, for the Land of Peace! The land of love and peace; Where a common tie shall the millions bind, And the thought of war shall cease; Where light shall illume the minds of men. And their eyes shall clearly see That the good of one is the good of all— In the days that are to be. Oh, for the Land of Joy! The land of joy and good; Where man may love his neighbor, And life shall he understood; The land of peace and plenty, Where men shall surely see That the good of one is the good of all— In the days that are to be. Oh, for the Land of Song! The land of song and mirth; Where men shall laugh in each other’s eyes. O’er their conquest of the earth; Where the fields shall be crowned with harvest, And every eye shall see That the good of one is the good of all— In the days that are to be. Oh, for that Land of Happiness! That land of joy and light; When the world at last emerges From the darkness of her night; When Truth shall hold the sceptre, And men at last shall see That the good of one is the good of all— In the days that are to be. J. R. Cole. 54 SOCIALIST SONGS, DIALOGUES AND RECITATIONS O, SAY, WHAT IS TRUTH? O, say, what is truth? ’Tis the fairest gem That the riches of worlds can produce; And priceless the value of truth will be when The proud monarch’s costliest diadem Is counted but dross and refuse. Yes, say what is truth? ’Tis the brightest prize .. To which mortals or gods can aspire; Go, search in the depths where it glittering lies. Or ascend in pursuit to the loftiest skies, ’Tis an aim for the noblest desire. The scepter may fall from the despot’s grasp When with winds of stern justice he copes. But the pillar of truth will endure to the last. And its firm-rooted bulkworks outstand the rude blast. And the wreck of the fell tyrant’s hopes. Then say what is truth? ’Tis the last and the first. For the limits of time it steps o’er; Though the heavens depart and the earth’s foun¬ tains again burst, Truth, the sum of existence, will weather the worst. Eternal, unchanged, evermore. John Jaques. The world’s great cup of sorrow is even with the brim. Shall I add one drop more? Men drink and drain the cup, yet still it fills, ’Tis running o’er. Struggling for life, with fear and anxious eye. See round about me all humanity; Weak, humbled, erring, even as am I, With disappointment sore. On every side the cry of pain goes up; Men drinking to the full of sorrow’s cup; Shall I add more? J. R. C. SOCIALIST SONGS, DIALOGUES AND RECITATIONS 55 AS WE GO MARCHING ON. VOCAL SOLO. From the cabin on the prairie to the vaulted city dome, From the deep and briny ocean where our sailor brothers roam, There comes to us glad tidings of deliverance to come. As we go marching on. Chorus —Glory, glory hallelujah, etc. We have wrought among the furnace fires, we have gathered up the gold. We’ve tilled the soil and reaped the grain and watched beside the fold, We’ve starved amid abundance and we’ve perished with the cold. And we go marching on. But lo! the day is coming when the wage slave shall he free, With peace and plenty everywhere, enough for you and me; When equity shall triumph over dead monopoly. As we go marching on. Social Democrat. Stop quarreling, children! Do you see the time of day. The noon has come and gone. All the forenoon you wasted in your play, And soon the night will come; The long, long night will catch you unawares With all your task undone. THE END. Library of Science for the Workers It is not yet fifty years since Charles Darwin published his revolutionary w'ork “The Origin of Species,” which introduced a totally new way of looking at the universe and at man in his relations to the universe. But dur¬ ing the years since 1859 the view of Darwin has so completely prevailed that not a single scientist of even ordinary intelligence can be found who holds to the old view of the special creation of the world and of man as the central object in the universe for whom all the rest was planned. Once in a wlrile we still see sensational newspaper headings to the effect that this or that prominent scientist has forsaken Darwinism, but upon reading the small type under the heading we find that the scientist has merely discovered some new detail in the correct application of flie theory of evolution, and that his work only adds new proof of the correctness of the theory itself. A generation of scientific students have now been applying Darwin’s method to every branch of science. They have supplied the “missing links” in the chain of evidence which he offered in “The Descent of Man,” and they have accumulated the facts to prove that “mind” is only a form of “life,” differing in no essential respect from the life -which Ave can observe not only in animals but also in plants. Moreover, the proof is already all but complete that “life” is only a form of that “energy” which is inseparable from all “matter,” so that henceforth we must think of man as 1 LIBRARY OF SCIENCE FOR THE WORKERS being developed and governed by the same unchanging laws that control the movements of the stars. So it is that modern science confirms the faith of the organized laborers of the civilized world that the forces of the universe are working out a better social order in which the parasitic ruling class, now become useless, shall disappear, and the worker^ of hand and brain shall be the human race. Until lately these recent scientific writings, with their revolutionary import, have been entirely out of the reach of the working people of America. Either they existed only in foreign langaiages or they have been' published in editions so expensive or in a literary style so difficult as to be out of reach of the people who live by doing mseful work. The co-operative publishing house of Charles H. Kerr & Company has therefore undertaken to issue in cheap but neat and durable style as many as possible of the recent scientific books -which furnish the evidence for these revolutionary conclusions. The volumes described in these pages will be followed by others as soon as the necessary capital can be raised for paying the cost of publication. 1. THE EVOLUTION OF MAN. By William Boelsche. Translated by Ernest Untermann. Cloth, illus¬ trated, 50 cents. Fourth thousand now ready. Professor Boelsche, of Berlin, is recognized as the leading popularizer of the evolution theory in Germany. In this book he has chosen the form of a simple narra¬ tive, which makes his argument easy for even untrained readers to follow. He traces the history of man back- LIBRARY OF SCIENCE FOR THE WORKERS ward by aid of the bronze and stone tools and the fossils that show man’s life history on the earth to ex¬ tend back for a million years,—a j^eriod far longer than was claimed by the earlier evolutionists. Starting then with the cave-man of the tertiary period, he traces the ancestry of man backward step by step through ever simpler and simpler forms of life, until he reaches the animal consisting of a single cell. He shows then how this cell itself might have developed from matter that we call “inorganic” by the action of the same forces that we see working in the universe todaJ^ The book is illus¬ trated with many engravings showing the different forms of life through which man developed. “The Evolution of ]\Ian” has met with an instant pop¬ ularity far beyond what the iDublishers had counted upon. It contains just the information the people are looking for, and it sells at sight wherever it is introduced. 2. GERMS OF MIND IN PLANTS. By R. H. France. Translated by A. M. Simons. Cloth, illustrated, 50 cents. First edition ready September 1. This is a delightful and fascinating book. The idea Avorked out in it is that plants are living beings Avhich receive impressions from the outside world, and act on those impressions for their own advantage, just as people do. This is not mere fancy; the author brings a wealth of interesting facts to prove that it is true. He shoAvs that the main reason AA’hy the Amluntary actions of plants haA-e not been generally observed is that in most cases they are exceedingly sIoav compared Avith the motions of animals. There are, hoAvever, many inter¬ esting exceptions to this rule, and he describes a feAV of these in detail. 3 f LIBRARY OF SCIENCE FOR THE WORKERS Some of the most important contributions of recent years toward the rounding out of the evolution theory have been in the field of botany, and this little hook, now for the first time put within the reach of English readers, is a most charming introduction to this field. 3. THE END OF THE WORLD. By Dr. M. Wilhelm Meyer. Translated by Margaret \Yagner. Cloth, illustrated, 50 cents. First edition ready Octo¬ ber 1. The central thought of this book is that the earth it¬ self, solid and permanent as it ajjpears to us, is subject to. the same forces, moving in cycles of evolution, disso¬ lution and new' evolution, *w'hich operate on everything great and small throughout the universe. The matter of wdiich the earth is composed is indestructible, but it existed in different forms before the earth w'as, and it .jvill exist in different forms w'hen the earth has ceased to be. Moreover, time was wdien the earth had reached almost its present form and yet w'hen the existence of human life on it Avould have been impossible, and a time is coming when forces now' at w'ork Avill put an end to the cycle of human life on this planet. It is w'ith these destructive forces that “The End of the MMrld” deals. The book is not# fanciful and specu¬ lative, but purely scientific, yet it is Avrittcn in the same delightfully simple style as the other numbers of the Library of Science for the Workers. A companion A'olume by the same author, entitled “The Making of the World,” Avill appear some time in 1906. 4. SCIENCE AND REVOLUTION. By Ernest Unter- mann. Cloth, 50 cents. Beady October 1. -1 LIBRARY OF SCIENCE FOR THE WORKERS This is an original work by the translator of “The Evolution of Man.” Mr. Untermann is a graduate of the University of Berlin, an accomplished linguist, and a special student in biology as well as in social science. He is an American citizen, and within the last few years has done much important writing in American periodicals. The present volume is based on a series of articles which appeared in a prominent review, but their form has been popularized so as to offer few diffi¬ culties to the student who -wnshes to investigate the important subject of the relation of modern science to the working-class movement. The scope of the book is well indicated by the folowing: Table of Contents. 1. Proletarian Science. 2 . The Starting Point. 3. The Awakening of Philosophy. 4. A Step Forward in Greece. 5. A Step Backward in Rome. 6. In the Slough of Ecclesiastic Feudalism. 7. The Struggle for More Light. 8. The Resurrection of Natural Philosophy in En¬ gland. 9. Natural Philosophy in France. 10. A Reversion to Idealism in Germany. 11. In the Melting Pot of the French Revolution. 12. The Wedding of Science and Natural Philosophy. 13. The Outcome of Classic Philosophy in Germany. 14. Science and the Working Class. 15. The Offspring of Science and Natural Philosophy. 16. A Waif and Its Adoption. 17. Materialist Monism, the Science and Religion of the Proletariat. 5 LIBRARY OF SCIENCE FOR THE WORKERS 5. THE TRIUMPH OF LIFE. By William Boelsche. Translated by May Wood Simons. Cloth, illus¬ trated, 50 cents. Ready November 1. This latest work by the author of “The Evolution of Man” will be found even more fascinating than the earlier volume. It is based on a series of popular lec¬ tures delivered by the author to large audiences in Ber¬ lin. In the preface he saj^s: “We accompany life in its conquest of the planet earth. Out of the boundless space this earth first ap¬ pears to us as a star. We rush to this star upon a meteorite. While this strange world-visitor glows and puffs out in the earth’s atmosphere, the ocean suddenly sparkles beneath us. This glowing of the water is the work of living creatures, and thus we first enter upon the kingdom of life. We dive dovm into the cold abysses of the deep sea with its light-giving fishes. Through the primeval water-forest of sea-Aveed Ave rise once more to the Avondrously colored coral strand. In the stone of this coral island, built of the remnants Of life, Ave find a passage back to the interior of the earth, into the dark caves Avhere the bones of the shapeless saurians of the primitive world lie buried in the rock. From these caves Ave clinib to the glaciers of the ice age, to the mammoths and pre-historic men. The Amlcanoes of the mysterious south polar land send forth their smoke. In the fern forests of NeAV Zealand Ave AA’alk once more in the carboniferious age. Noav we folloAA^ the luxuriant life of the primitiAm forests of Brazil; AA^e see the bloom¬ ing palms of India, the Avonderful giant trees of Mari¬ posa, the grotesque cactus forms of Mexico; until life fights its last battle for us in the desert and on the 6 LIBRARY OF SCIENCE FOR THE WORKERS eternal snow of the lofty mountains. But out of these wastes comes man, who reads the stars and learns the laws of life. So the triumph of life culminates in the triumph of man, who spreads the rule of his mind over the earth from the equator to the poles.” Any of these books will be mailed on receipt of the price, or the live volumes will be mailed to one address for two dollars. Advance orders rvill help us to bring out additional volumes in the series. These will be announced later. Address CHARLES H. KERR & COMPANY (CO-OPERATIVE), 56 Fifth Avenue, Chicago. 7