The Conflict [91]
pipe.
She finished a moment later, said as she laid the manuscript on the table: ``That's the best you've ever done.''
``I think so,'' agreed he. ``It seems to me I've got a new grip on things. I needed a turn such as your friend Davy Hull gave me. Nothing like rivalry to spur a man on. The old crowd was so stupid--cunning, but stupid. But Hull injects a new element into the struggle. To beat him we've got to use our best brains.''
``We've got to attack him,'' said Selma. ``After all, he is the enemy. We can't let him disarm us by an act of justice.''
``No, indeed,'' said Victor. ``But we'll have to be careful. Here's what I'm going to carry on the first page.''
He held up a sheet of paper on which he had written with a view to effective display the names of the four most offensive local corporations with their contribution--$25,000 each--to the campaign fund of the Citizens' Alliance. ``Under it, in big type,'' proceeded he, ``we'll carry a line asking, `Is the Citizens' Alliance fooling these four corporations or is it fooling the people?' I think that will be more effective than columns of attack.''
``We ought to get that out on wall-bills and dodgers,'' suggested Selma, ``and deluge the town with it once or twice a week until election.''
``Splendid!'' exclaimed Victor. ``I'll make a practical politician of you yet.''
Colman and Harbinger and Jocelyn and several others of the League leaders came in one at a time, and the plan of campaign was developed in detail. But the force they chiefly relied upon was the influence of their twelve hundred men, their four or five thousand women and young men and girls, talking every day and evening, each man or woman or youth with those with whom he came into contact. This ``army of education'' was disciplined, was educated, knew just what arguments to use, had been cautioned against disputes, against arousing foolish antagonisms. The League had nothing to conceal, no object to gain but the government of Remsen City by and for its citizens--well paved, well lighted, clean streets, sanitary houses, good and clean street car service, honest gas, pure water, plenty of good schools--that first of all. The ``reform crowd''--the Citizens' Alliance--like every reform party of the past, proposed to do practically the same things. But the League met this with: ``Why should we elect an upper class government to do for us what we ought to do for ourselves? And how can they redeem their promises when they are tied up in a hundred ways to the very people who have been robbing and cheating us?''
There were to be issues of the New Day; there were to be posters and dodgers, public meetings in halls, in squares, on street corners. But the main reliance now as always was this educated ``army of education''-- these six thousand missionaries, each one of them in resolute earnest and bent upon converting his neighbors on either side, and across the street as well. A large part of the time the leaders could spare from making a living was spent in working at this army, in teaching it new arguments or better ways of presenting old arguments, in giving the enthusiasm, in talking with each individual soldier of it and raising his standard of efficiency. Nor could the employers of these soldiers of Victor Dorn's complain that they shirked their work for politics. It was a fact that could not be denied that the members of the Workingmen's League were far and away the best workers in Remsen City, got the best pay, and earned it, drank less, took fewer days off on account of sickness. One of the sneers of the Kelly-House gang was that ``those Dorn cranks think they are aristocrats, a little better than us common, ordinary laboring men.'' And the sneer was not without effect. The truth was, Dorn and his associates had not picked out the best of the working class and drawn it into the League, but had made those who joined the League better workers, better family men, better citizens.
``We are saying that the working class ought to run things,'' Dorn said again
She finished a moment later, said as she laid the manuscript on the table: ``That's the best you've ever done.''
``I think so,'' agreed he. ``It seems to me I've got a new grip on things. I needed a turn such as your friend Davy Hull gave me. Nothing like rivalry to spur a man on. The old crowd was so stupid--cunning, but stupid. But Hull injects a new element into the struggle. To beat him we've got to use our best brains.''
``We've got to attack him,'' said Selma. ``After all, he is the enemy. We can't let him disarm us by an act of justice.''
``No, indeed,'' said Victor. ``But we'll have to be careful. Here's what I'm going to carry on the first page.''
He held up a sheet of paper on which he had written with a view to effective display the names of the four most offensive local corporations with their contribution--$25,000 each--to the campaign fund of the Citizens' Alliance. ``Under it, in big type,'' proceeded he, ``we'll carry a line asking, `Is the Citizens' Alliance fooling these four corporations or is it fooling the people?' I think that will be more effective than columns of attack.''
``We ought to get that out on wall-bills and dodgers,'' suggested Selma, ``and deluge the town with it once or twice a week until election.''
``Splendid!'' exclaimed Victor. ``I'll make a practical politician of you yet.''
Colman and Harbinger and Jocelyn and several others of the League leaders came in one at a time, and the plan of campaign was developed in detail. But the force they chiefly relied upon was the influence of their twelve hundred men, their four or five thousand women and young men and girls, talking every day and evening, each man or woman or youth with those with whom he came into contact. This ``army of education'' was disciplined, was educated, knew just what arguments to use, had been cautioned against disputes, against arousing foolish antagonisms. The League had nothing to conceal, no object to gain but the government of Remsen City by and for its citizens--well paved, well lighted, clean streets, sanitary houses, good and clean street car service, honest gas, pure water, plenty of good schools--that first of all. The ``reform crowd''--the Citizens' Alliance--like every reform party of the past, proposed to do practically the same things. But the League met this with: ``Why should we elect an upper class government to do for us what we ought to do for ourselves? And how can they redeem their promises when they are tied up in a hundred ways to the very people who have been robbing and cheating us?''
There were to be issues of the New Day; there were to be posters and dodgers, public meetings in halls, in squares, on street corners. But the main reliance now as always was this educated ``army of education''-- these six thousand missionaries, each one of them in resolute earnest and bent upon converting his neighbors on either side, and across the street as well. A large part of the time the leaders could spare from making a living was spent in working at this army, in teaching it new arguments or better ways of presenting old arguments, in giving the enthusiasm, in talking with each individual soldier of it and raising his standard of efficiency. Nor could the employers of these soldiers of Victor Dorn's complain that they shirked their work for politics. It was a fact that could not be denied that the members of the Workingmen's League were far and away the best workers in Remsen City, got the best pay, and earned it, drank less, took fewer days off on account of sickness. One of the sneers of the Kelly-House gang was that ``those Dorn cranks think they are aristocrats, a little better than us common, ordinary laboring men.'' And the sneer was not without effect. The truth was, Dorn and his associates had not picked out the best of the working class and drawn it into the League, but had made those who joined the League better workers, better family men, better citizens.
``We are saying that the working class ought to run things,'' Dorn said again