Why, it's all along of our "discontent," and the Agitator's insidious
guile.
But Labour, BET, is agog just now to revise the old one-sided pacts,
And even a Laundress may have an eye to the benefit of the Factory Acts.

Those bad, bad 'Busmen, BET my girl, claim shorter hours, and a longer
pay;
Just think of such for the Slaves of the Tub! Why should we women not
have our say
In the Park o' Sunday, like DAN the Docker, or TOM the Tailor, or WILL
the "Whip"?
The Tub and the Ironing-board appear to have got a chance--which they
mustn't let slip:

An Object Lesson in Laundress Labour, may move the callous and shame
the quiz.
We dream of "Washing as well it might be"; we'll show them "Washing as
now it is."
_We_ know it, BET, in the sodden wet and the choking fume; with the
aching back,
The long, long hours, and the typhoid taint, the inverted pail and the
hurried snack.

There may--who knows?--be hope for us yet, for you and me, BET! Just
think o' that!
Oh, I know it is hard to believe it, my girl. The Sweater's strong, and
appeal falls flat
On official ears; and fine-lady fears, and household hurry against us go;
But "evil is wrought by want of thought." says some poet, I think;--so
we'll let them _know_!