Justin:  Do you know that there is a boy here whose mother abandoned him in the restroom of a Five and Dime ?
Iris: No , but ...
Justin: Or that Polly Ann 's father sold her to some men for one dollar ? No . No , of course not . Who wants to dwell on things like that ? We never consider the little ones . We only put on our clothes . Who can see the children feeding the endless , ravenous hunger of the textile mill , mechanical mouths that are n't choosey : silk and thread , a lock of hair , a scrap of scalp , tiny , torn fingers . We only turn up the heat . Why think of the boys in the mines crouched over the chutes ? For hours they sit , sifting the refuse from the coal , their backs bent . Old men by nine , black lung by _ twelve _ . Coal is heavy and hard , hands are soft and fragile ; crushed , feet crushed , skulls crushed . Go for a walk ; you see them . Poisoned girls selling themselves to men and women . A nickel buys a virgin ; some are kept in cages . Babies , bought by men who raise them as livestock . Animals to abuse , soft flesh to violate , to tear and bite ! ' If anyone causes even one of the little ones who believe in me to sin , it would be better for him to have a large millstone hung around his neck and be damned in the depths of the sea ! ' They must open their eyes ! They must open their mouths and drown !