But you'd better add on that I'm a Socialist too, Rosamond, because I've become one, as you know.

I think the working man is in a shamefully unjust position, and that the capitalists are no better than slave-drivers.' 'Oh, not out here, my word!' exclaimed a Leichardt'stonian who happened to be one of the old squattocracy.

'The landowners and the capitalists are not slave-drivers, they are slave-driven.

We've got to pay what the Trades' Union organisers tell us--or else go without stockmen or shearers.

Fact is, our Labour War is only just beginning; and I can tell you, Sir, that before a year is out the so-called bloated capitalist and the sheep and cattle station owner will sing either pretty big or very small.' 'I don't think it will be very small--on MY station,' murmured McKeith.
'But it's quite true about the Labour War.