Mrs. Martin—It must be devilish though, to have strike breakers come in and run the cars, while the men are sticking out for a principle.
Mrs. Quinn—A principle's a fine excuse now and then, for a bunch of men to fight behind.
Mrs. Martin—But this is a principle worth fighting for.
Mrs. Quinn—Maybe it is.
Mrs. Martin—I wish you'd go to the lectures at the Lyceum with me. You'd understand things better. My, I miss your Molly. We heard so many wonderful men talk, and she was so quick getting their ideas, it was just great to be with her.
Mrs. Quinn—Well, you know, she'd tell me about them when she got home. I remember that first man who talked of the virtue of humility and self-sacrifice. Molly was that full of onselfishness after hearin' him, that she almost gave her job to Jennie Tubbs, thinkin' she needed the money more than we did.
Mrs. Martin—That was Prof. William Mason. He was a noble character.
Mrs. Quinn—Aye, but he didn't last. He was followed by the moral uplifter one. Sure, we lived on pins and needles then! After him we had a course in sanitation, and pure food, and how to feed a fam'ly of six on $4.00 a week. Oh, them last was wonderful fairy tales. The meals that woman could manufacture out of an old ham bone! It was past belief.
Mrs. Martin—I tried a few of her receipts, but Bill wouldn't eat the things I made. He said he wasn't a horse yet.
Mrs. Quinn—Aw, she was a joker, I'm thinkin', put in the pack to lighten the others up a bit. Lectures is an easy way of gettin' scraps of learnin', but it's done neither of ye lastin' hurt that I can see.