ust be done, the problem of life is not how
to escape work, but how to find the right work, and how best to do it,
and most swiftly, when the choice is made.
"_Forth they come from grief and torment; on they wend
toward health and mirth,
All the wide world is their dwelling, every corner of the
earth.
Buy them, sell them for thy service! Try the bargain what
'tis worth,
For the days are marching on.
"These are they who build thy houses, weave thy raiment,
win thy wheat,
Smooth the rugged, fill the barren, turn the bitter into
sweet,
All for thee this day--and ever. What reward for them
is meet?
Till the host comes marching on._"
WILLIAM MORRIS
SECOND
The trade of toil for money has led to many problems and discussions.
To-day the trenchant question: "What More than Wages?" is a matter of
eager talk. Is this a living-wage?--Just enough warmth, not to freeze.
Just enough clothing to be decent. Just enough food to go through the
day without actual hunger. Just enough shelter to keep out the wind and
rain and snow. Just enough education to learn to read and write
and count.
No. As the theory of bodily freedom demands for each man life, liberty,
and the pursuit of happiness, so the highest theory of to-day lays down
demands of economic freedom beyond the mere fad of possible existence.
Dr. Patten has formulated certain "economic rights" of man. Each
employer must say: Before I settle back with a serene belief that I have
given my men a living-wage, let me ask: Have they sun? air? sanitary
surroundings and conditions? medical care? leisure? education? a chance
to grow? Have they enough money for ordinary occasions, and a little to
give away? No man or woman has a living-wage, who has no money to
give away.
Education and comfort add to the value of the employed. The cook who has
a rocking-chair, a cook-book, and a housekeeping magazine in her kitchen
will do more work, and better work, other things being equal, than the
cook who has none. The workman who lives in a clean, sunny, well-aired
place, where he can found a home, and bring up healthy children, will do
more work, and better work, than the workman who lives in a damp, dark,
ill-ventilated tenement, and who goes to his day's work with a heart
sullen and broken because of avoidable illness and sorrow in his poor
little home. Five thousand employees who have a night-school,
luncheon-rooms, little hou
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