Don't fight the poor.

Leave that to the corporations." He saw the same fellow who had called to him from the corner.

Now, as before, he pretended not to hear him.
"Come down," the man repeated gently.

"You don't want to fight poor men.
Don't fight at all." It was a most philosophic and Jesuitical motorman.
A third policeman joined the other two from somewhere and some one ran to telephone for more officers.

Hurstwood gazed about, determined but fearful.
A man grabbed him by the coat.
"Come off of that," he exclaimed, jerking at him and trying to pull him over the railing.
"Let go," said Hurstwood, savagely.
"I'll show you--you scab!" cried a young Irishman, jumping up on the car and aiming a blow at Hurstwood.