Working Woman. No, there's lots o' you men I'm sorry for (Shrill Voice: "Thanks awfully!"), an' we'll 'elp you if you let us.
Voice. 'Elp us? You tyke the bread out of our mouths. You women are black-leggin' the men!
Working Woman. W'y does any woman tyke less wyges than a man for the same work? Only because we can't get anything better. That's part the reason w'y we're yere to-d'y. Do you reely think we tyke them there low wyges because we got a lykin' for low wyges? No. We're just like you. We want as much as ever we can get. ("'Ear! 'Ear!" and laughter.) We got a gryte deal to do with our wyges, we women has. We got the children to think about. And w'en we get our rights, a woman's flesh and blood won't be so much cheaper than a man's that employers can get rich on keepin' you out o' work, and sweatin' us. If you men only could see it, we got the syme cause, and if you 'elped us you'd be 'elpin yerselves.
Voices. "Rot!" "Drivel."
Old Newsvendor. True as gospel!
(She retires against the banner with the others. There is some applause.)
A Man (patronisingly). Well, now, that wusn't so bad—fur a woman.
Another. N-naw. Not fur a woman.
Chairman (speaking through this last). Miss Ernestine Blunt will now address you.