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Hellraisers Journal – Saturday January 30, 1909
Indianapolis, Indiana – Mother Speaks at U. M. W. Convention, Part II
From Proceedings of United Mine Workers Convention
-Wednesday January 27, 1909
Speech of Mother Jones, Part II:
Now, I will tell you what I am here today for. I am not here to beg. I hate beggars; I don’t want any begging machines; I want to do away with every begging parasite in the world. I want to fight and take what belongs to us. What I want here today with you is this: We have got to get those boys out of jail. We have got to let them live in this land; we have got to let them fight Mexico from here. And I am with those boys because Diaz and Harriman and Rockefeller and the whole push are together down there. They were down there wining and dining, and we paid for it.
And while I am on this wining and dining subject I am going to say something about the board member from Pennsylvania, Miles Dougherty. I want to talk to you Pennsylvania fellows. You had an awful fight there. I was out West and took up a paper and read of Mr. Miles Dougherty sitting down with his feet under the table looking Mrs. Harriman square in the eye and putting a bowl of champagne inside of his stomach— “Here’s a health to you, Mr. Belmont; here’s a health to you, Miss Morgan, and here’s a health to you, Mrs. Harriman.” And then, when Mrs. Harriman and Miss Morgan walked down the street with Miles Dougherty the fellows over home in Pennsylvania said, “Don’t you see how labor is getting recognized?” How labor is getting recognized! That’s true, Mr. Lewis, as sure as you sit there, they said that about labor getting recognized! I want to tell you here the trouble with you is this: your skull hasn’t developed only to the third degree. You would consider it an honor to go down the street with Miss Morgan, who never worked a day in her life. You would consider it an honor to dine with those fellows that skinned you and your children and murdered you in the mines, and while they were filling you with champagne they murdered us poor devils with bullets.
