“An’ th’ higher up a man regards his wurruk, th’ less it amounts to.  We cud manage to scrape along without electhrical injineers but we’d have a divvle iv a time without scavengers.  Ye look down on th’ fellow that dhrives th’ dump cart, but if it wasn’t f’r him ye’d niver be able to pursoo ye’er honorable mechanical profissyon iv pushin’ th’ barrow.  Whin Andhrew Carnagie quit, ye wint on wurrukin’; if ye quit wurruk, he’ll have to come back.  P’raps that’s th’ reason th’ wurrukin’ man don’t get more iv thim little pictures iv a buffalo in his pay envelope iv a Saturdah night.  If he got more money he wud do less wurruk.  He has to be kept in thrainin’.

“Th’ way to make a man useful to th’ wurruld is to give him a little money an’ a lot iv wurruk.  An’ ‘tis th’ on’y way to make him happy, too.  I don’t mean coarse, mateeryal happiness like private yachts an’ autymobills an’ rich food an’ other corrodin’ pleasures.  I mean something entirely diffr’ent.  I don’t know what I mean but I see in th’ pa-apers th’ other day that th’ on’y road to happiness was hard wurruk.  ‘Tis a good theery.  Some day I’m goin’ to hire a hall an’ preach it in Newport.  I wudden’t mintion it in Ar-rchy Road where wurruk abounds.  I don’t want to be run in f’r incitin’ a riot.

“This pa-aper says th’ farmer niver sthrikes.  He hasn’t got th’ time to.  He’s too happy.  A farmer is continted with his ten-acre lot.  There’s nawthin’ to take his mind off his wurruk.  He sleeps at night with his nose against th’ shingled roof iv his little frame home an’ dhreams iv cinch bugs.  While th’ stars are still alight he walks in his sleep to wake th’ cow that left th’ call f’r four o’clock.  Thin it’s ho! f’r feedin’ th’ pigs an’ mendin’ th’ reaper.  Th’ sun arises as usual in th’ east an’ bein’ a keen student iv nature, he picks a cabbage leaf to put in his hat.  Breakfast follows, a gay meal beginnin’ at nine an’ endin’ at nine-three.  Thin it’s off f’r th’ fields where all day he sets on a bicycle seat an’ reaps the bearded grain an’ th’ Hessian fly, with nawthin’ but his own thoughts an’ a couple iv horses to commune with.  An’ so he goes an’ he’s happy th’ livelong day if ye don’t get in ear-shot iv him.  In winter he is employed keepin’ th’ cattle fr’m sufferin’ his own fate an’ writin’ testymonyals iv dyspepsia cures.  ’Tis sthrange I niver heerd a farmer whistle except on Sunday.

“No, sir, ye can’t tell me that a good deal iv wurruk is good f’r anny man.  A little wurruk is not bad, a little wurruk f’r th’ stomach’s sake an’ to make ye sleep sound, a kind of nightcap, d’ye mind.  But a gr-reat deal iv wurruk, especially in th’ summer time, will hurt anny man that indulges in it.  So, though I don’t sympathize with sthrikers, I congratulate thim.  Sthrike, says I, while the iron is hot an’ ye’er most needed to pound it into a horseshoe.  An’ especially wud I advise ivrybody to sthrike whin th’ weather is hot.”

DRUGS