What do you make out of it ?" He laughed heartily.
"I get a few jail-sentences, once in a while; now and then a crack over the head with a policeman's billy, or maybe a peek down the muzzle of a rifle.

I get--" "You mean that you're a martyr ?" "By no means! I've never even thought of being called such.

This is a privilege, this propaganda of ours.

It's the greatest privilege in the world--bringing the word of life and hope and joy to a crushed, bleeding and despairing world!" She thought a moment, in silence.
"You're a poet, I believe!" said she.
"No, not that.

Only a worker in the ranks." "But do you write poetry ?" "I write verses.