Our Real Foes

[An incident which has recently come to light is sufficient to evoke the strongest indignation on the part of any man possessed of self-respect and true principle. In the office of a certain daily, an ambitious « rat » called together a few colleagues, and on their behalf, sent a written proposal to the props., offering to « farm » the paper for £10 per week less than the present wage! The would-be « farmers » were told that the paper could not be satisfactorily conducted on such terms; the proposition was rejected, and the precious document consigned to the flames.]

May all his actions on his head recoil,
Who dares impair the dignity of toil—
Whose little soul, to narrow grooves confined,
Proclaims the man a libel on his kind;
Whose end is meanness and whose aim is pelf,
Whose name is Traitor, and whose god is Self!
Out from our midst, ye base and treacherous crew,
For honest labor has no place for you!
Begone! and men shall mark the guilty stain
That rests upon you like the brand of Cain!
Go! hide your heads; from honest toil retire,
And join with those unworthy of their hire—
Nor think success will crown your mean device,
For such as you are dear at any price!
Pursue your course unheeded and alone
Until your master, Satan, claims his own!