Chapter XVII

Inefficiency

>>>>I d rather die on the high road under the open blue. I d rather
>>>>starve to death in the sweet air, or drown in the brave, salt sea, or have
>>>>one fierce glad hour of battle, and then a bullet, than lead the life of a
>>>>brute in a stinking hell, and gasp out my broken breath at last on a
>>>>pauper s pallet.
>>>>-- Robert Blatchford

I stopped a moment to listen to an argument on
the Mile End Waste. It was night-time, and they
were all workmen of the better class. They had
surrounded one of their number, a pleasant-faced
man of thirty, and were giving it to him rather
heatedly.

"But ow about this ere cheap immigration?"
one of them demanded. " The Jews of White-
chapel, say, a-cuttin our throats right along?"

"You can t blame them," was the answer.
"They re just like us, and they ve got to live.
Don t blame the man who offers to work cheaper
than you and gets your job."

"But ow about the wife an kiddies ? " his inter
locutor demanded.

"There you are," came the answer. " How
about the wife and kiddies of the man who works

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v?