War of the Classes

When I was a youngster I was looked upon as a weird sort of creature, because, forsooth, I was a socialist. Reporters from local papers interviewed me, and the interviews, when published, were pathological studies of a strange and abnormal specimen of man. At that time (nine or ten years ago), because I made a stand in my native town for municipal ownership of public utilities, I was branded a “red-shirt, ” a “dynamiter, ” and an “anarchist”; and really decent fellows, who liked me very well, drew the line at my appearing in public with their sisters.