human
We haf send to picket our men and yet our boys, and they beat them down. We haf our girls send, and they come home crying. But I say to God this evening--Oh, is there nothing for me--for me carrying child, and He whisper yais--these soldiers, he haf wife, he haf mother. She paused and shook with fear and shame.
gpt
Then I say to you--call home your man--your girl so young, and we go--we women with child--we with big bellies, filled with unborn--we go--O, my God, He say we go, and this soldier--he haf wife, he haf mother--he will see;--we--we--they will not strike us down. Send us, oh, Grant, Prince of Peace, to the picket line next morning.
human
Let me go, cried a clear voice, as a brown-eyed Welsh woman rose.
gpt
I know ten others that will go.
human
I also, cried a German woman.
gpt
Let us organize to-night. We can have two hundred child-bearing women!
human
Yes, men, spoke up a trim-looking young wife from among the glassworkers,
gpt
Would it do? Wouldn't they shame us for it?
human
Oh, yes, she cried,
gpt
Mr. Chairman--I move that all men and all women except those chosen by these who have just spoken, be asked to keep out of the Park to-morrow morning, that all the world may know how sacred we hold this cause and with what weapons of peace we would win it.