on them.  He made a living at it, but it was getting harder all the time, because his eyes were failing.  What would come when they gave out he could not tell; there had been no saving anything—­a man could barely keep alive by twelve or fourteen hours’ work a day.  The finishing of pants did not take much skill, and anybody could learn it, and so the pay was forever getting less.  That was the competitive wage system; and if Jurgis wanted to understand what Socialism was, it was there he had best begin.  The workers were dependent upon a job to exist from day to day, and so they bid against each other, and no man could get more than the lowest man would consent to work for.  And thus the mass of the people were always in a life-and-death struggle with poverty.  That was “competition,” so far as it concerned the wage-earner, the man who had only his labor to sell; to those on top, the exploiters, it appeared very differently, of course—­there were few of them, and they could combine and dominate, and their power would be unbreakable.  And so all over the world two classes were forming, with an unbridged chasm between them—­the capitalist class, with its enormous fortunes, and the proletariat, bound into slavery by unseen chains.  The latter were a thousand to one in numbers, but they were ignorant and helpless, and they would remain at the mercy of their exploiters until they were organized—­until they had become “class-conscious.”  It was a slow and weary process, but it would go on—­it was like the movement of a glacier, once it was started it could never be stopped.  Every Socialist did his share, and lived upon the vision of the “good time coming,”—­when the working class should go to the polls and seize the powers of government, and put an end to private property in the means of production.  No matter how poor a man was, or how much he suffered, he could never be really unhappy while he knew of that future; even if he did not live to see it himself, his children would, and, to a Socialist, the victory of his class was his victory.  Also he had always the progress to encourage him; here in Chicago, for instance, the movement was growing by leaps and bounds.  Chicago was the industrial center of the country, and nowhere else were the unions so strong; but their organizations did the workers little good, for the employers were organized, also; and so the strikes generally failed, and as fast as the unions were broken up the men were coming over to the Socialists.

Ostrinski explained the organization of the party, the machinery by which the proletariat was educating itself.  There were “locals” in every big city and town, and they were being organized rapidly in the smaller places; a local had anywhere from six to a thousand members, and there were fourteen hundred of them in all, with a total of about twenty-five thousand members, who paid dues to support the organization.  “Local Cook County,” as the city organization was called, had eighty branch locals, and it alone was spending several thousand dollars in the campaign.  It published a weekly in English, and one each in Bohemian and German; also there was a monthly published in Chicago, and a cooperative publishing house, that issued a million and a half of Socialist books and pamphlets every year.  All this was the growth of the last few years—­there had been almost nothing of it when Ostrinski first came to Chicago.