Doesn't history show a slow but steady advance
of the idea that the world is for the people who live in it, a
slow retreat of the idea that the world and the people and all
its and their resources are for a favored few of some kind of an
upper class? Yes--I think it is reasonable to hope that out of
the throes will come a freer and a happier and a more intelligent
race.''
Suddenly she burst out, apparently irrelevantly: ``But I
can't--I really can't agree with you that everyone ought to do
physical labor. That would drag the world down--yes, I'm sure it
would.''
``I guess you haven't thought about that,'' said he. ``Painters
do physical labor--and sculptors--and writers-- and all the
scientific men--and the inventors-- and--'' He laughed at
her--``Who doesn't do physical labor that does anything really
useful? Why, you yourself--at tennis and riding and such
things--do heavy physical labor. I've only to look at your body
to see that. But it's of a foolish kind--foolish and narrowly
selfish.''
``I see I'd better not try to argue with you,'' said she.
``No--don't argue--with me or with anybody,'' rejoined he. ``Sit
down quietly and think about life-- about your life. Think how
it is best to live so that you may get the most out of life--the
most substantial happiness. Don't go on doing the silly
customary things simply because a silly customary world says they
are amusing and worth while.
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