I Am the People, the Mob
I am the people—the mob—the crowd—the mass.
Do you know that all the great work of the world is done through
I am the workingman, the inventor, the maker of the world’s food
I am the audience that witnesses history. The Napoleons come from
me and the Lincolns. They die. And then I send forth more
Napoleons and Lincolns.
I am the seed ground. I am a prairie that will stand for much plow-
ing. Terrible storms pass over me. I forget. The best of me is
sucked out and wasted. I forget. Everything but Death comes to
me and makes me work and give up what I have. And I forget.
Sometimes I growl, shake myself and spatter a few red drops for
history to remember. Then—I forget.
When I, the People, learn to remember, when I, the People, use the
lessons of yesterday and no longer forget who robbed me last
year, who played me for a fool—then there will be no speaker in
all the world say the name: “The People,” with any fleck of
a sneer in his voice or any far-off smile of derision.
The mob—the crowd—the mass—will arrive then.