be run
down to this: How to teach a child to work? If he can work, he can be
happy; but if he does not want to work, he shall never be happy. No
work, no joy, is the universal dictum.

This is the great hardship of the children of great wealth: they are not
taught to work. To avoid this difficulty, in two very wealthy families
that I know, the boys were even obliged to darn their own stockings and
mend their own clothes. One young hopeful once tore his clothes
a-fishing, and mended his trousers with a scarlet flannel patch! Some
mothers do not allow their little girls to go to school until their beds
are made up and their rooms in order. Other equally wise parents have
tools in the house, and allow the boys to do all the repair work, the
daughters all the family mending, or to care for the linen; the boys to
put in electric fixtures and bells, and keep the batteries in order.
Queen Margherita of Italy, Queen Elizabeth of Roumania, Queen Alexandra
of England, and the Empress Augusta of Germany are all women who have
been from their childhood acquainted with simple and practical household
tasks. This principle is a right one and underlies much after-success.
Each child should, first of all, have a mastery of home-tasks. Then,
whether on the prairie or in the palace, he is free and independent.

What makes the differences in the social privileges given to one class
of workers above another? In reality, we are all workers. No one ought
to live, if in health, who does not work. But for some forms of work,
men and women receive an income, and nothing more. For other work, men
and women may or may not receive a large personal income, but their work
is recognized, they are a part of the best social circles, and when they
die, a city or a nation grieves.

The essential difference is this: that one is honor-work, and one is
not. Wherever in the world work is done in a spirit of love and
fidelity, it brings its own reward in recognition and in personal
affection. Sooner or later, honor-work receives honor.

Another reason for exaltation of one form of work above another, is
that some kinds of work are so very hard to do. They involve the intense
and complicated action of many and of complex powers. It may be hard
physical work to break stones for a road-way, but the task itself is a
simple one--the lifting of the arm and dropping it again with sufficient
force to split a rock apart. But the writing of a prose masterpiece,
suc