"It seems odd, doesn't it, that people down-town are
hurrying to trains and hanging to straps in trolley-cars, weltering
every way to get home and feed and sleep so they can get down-town
to-morrow. And yet there isn't anything down there worth getting to.
They're like servants drudging to keep the house going, and believing
the drudgery itself is the great thing. They make so much noise and
fuss and dirt they forget that the house was meant to live in. The
housework has to be done, but the people who do it have been so
overpaid that they're confused and worship the housework. They're
overpaid, and yet, poor things! they haven't anything that a chicken
can't have. Of course, when the world gets to paying its wages
sensibly that will be different."
"Do you mean 'communism'?" she asked, and she made their slow pace
a little slower--they had only three blocks to go.
"Whatever the word is, I only mean that things don't look very
sensible now--especially to a man that wants to keep out of 'em and
can't! 'Communism'? Well, at least any 'decent sport' would say it's
fair for all the strong runners to start from the same mark and give
the weak ones a fair distance ahead, so that all can run something
like even on the stretch.
Pages:
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211