As if they had not enemies enough: cats, weasels, rats, hawks, owls, the hunger and the cold.

And added to all, they must needs make the struggle yet harder for one another: pecking at each other's eyes, joining with one another to attack the fallen.

These tired men, these weary women, pale-faced lads and girls, why did they not organize among themselves some system that would do away with this daily warfare of each against all.

If only they could be got to grasp the fact that they were one family, bound together by suffering.

Then, and not till then, would they be able to make their power felt?
That would have to come first: the _Esprit de Corps_ of the Poor.
In the end she would go into Parliament.