fiction

The Slavery of Civilization Daniel Henderson sat luxuriously before his grate fire, with decanter, glass and box of fine cigars on a small stand at his elbow, and his feet in velvet slippers resting on a table in front of him. It was storming outside, making the warmth and cosiness of his room seem doubly inviting. He had had a very busy day and was now taking a rest he believed he had well earned. “I am deuced glad I didn’t go out this evening—this beats all the club dinners, balls, theaters and receptions the city can afford,” he mused […]

Society Notes from the People’s Quarters How the Workers of the City “Spend the Summer.” The heated months have not abated the activities of the tenement house habitants to any great extent. Several prominent functions have taken place (luring the last week which were well attended by the best known people in Alley L. The first was a fire, the next a funeral and the last was a street fight and an arrest. Mother McFarden was present at the first in a becoming gold colored nightgown which .displayed her well-rounded arms and ample ankles to good advantage. Several other prominent […]

Women and the Strike. BY LIZZIE M. HOLMES. The men stood about in groups at the car barns, the cars were ready, the time to start had arrived—but, not a man boarded his car, not a car moved. All down the long street that stretched away to the center of the city at every street corner were groups of twos and threes or more, looking anxiously toward the car barns, from which their usually unconsidered and convenient transportation was expected to come. And down other streets all over the city, people stood on the street corners and waited— and waited […]

THE SCAB. The rays from a low afternoon sun fell through the dusty panes of a kitchen window and across a disorderly floor where a young man and woman were washing clothes. There were two large tubs of water on a bench, several pails and pans standing about, and a large basket near the door was heaped with clean, wet clothes. The man straightened up, rubbed the suds from his muscular arms, and exclaimed. “Gosh, Mollie, that’s harder work than runnin’ an engine. Now they’re ready to hang out, ain’t they? I’ll help you out with them but you’ll put […]

HER LIFE FOR LABOR “But a man must succeed for himself first—before he can help others to any extent. What can a poor, obscure, struggling young man do for the cause of labor, or any other cause? When he has acquired some wealth, influence and position, he is better able to make his efforts felt. The wiser way is to devote one’s self to gaining a sure, permanent position, then one can work to some purpose.” The young man spoke earnestly, his restless movements showing his energetic, forceful nature. The young woman sitting at the table with her chin resting […]

THE “DIGNITY OF LABOR.” In a corner of the great, dusty workroom of a large suit-making establishment, near a grimy window, sat a young woman awaiting the “starting of the steam;” not idly, for the dinner half hour was seldom all “wasted” in eating. She was sorting out pieces of cloaks and laying them together ready to be run under the greedy feeder of the machine when the wheels should begin to turn. Agatha Willis might have been handsome in her early youth, for her features were regular and her hair still waved prettily back from a low, wide forehead; […]

Lizzie M. Holmes [main page] ECONOMY THAT PROVED DISASTROUS. Once upon a time a pleasant, busy little manufacturing town stood on the banks of a swiftly flowing river. It seemed a happy and prosperous village, for the small cottages of the workers were neat and surrounded by flowers and trees. The windows were tastefully draped with muslin or lace curtains. In the evenings the tones of singers, mingling with the sound of organ and violin, floated out on the peaceful air. The young people dressed well and took an active part in the literary societies, socials and parties, where a […]

TWO TYPES OF WASTED LIVES. An exquisite young creature, the son of a millionaire father, lolls on the luxurious divan of a room in his favorite club house, enduring an attack of twentieth century ennui. George Meredith is a fair product of the best modern culture. All that generations have accumulated of knowledge, taste, elegance have been given him; nothing has been wanting. Whatever could add to the rich development of a human being, whatever the world held that could minister to the perfection of a precious creation has been obtained for this young man. There enters another man, much […]

ONLY AN INDUSTRIAL OUTCAST. A homelike cottage, low, rambling, vine-clad and well shaded, faced toward the hills in the south, with the long, low, green valley and its winding stream in the center lying between, and the towers, steeples and chimneys of a village peeping above the trees at the western end. Behind the cottage rolled away broad fields, now nearly stripped of their harvests, and nearer stood well-filled barns and granaries, while on either side orchards and gardens showed the thrift and plenty of the owners. On the broad porch of the house sat two middle-aged men, lazily smoking […]