I know one man of really brilliant parts who has not the ability to manage a business of his own， and yet who is absolutely worthless to anyone else， because he carries with him constantly the insane suspicion that his employer is oppressing， or intending to oppress him. He cannot give orders， and he will not receive them. Should a message be given him to take to Garcia， his answer would probably be， “Take it yourself！”
Of course， I know that one so morally deformed is no less to be pitied than a physical cripple； but in our pitying let us drop a tear， too， for the men who are striving to carry on a great enterprise， whose working hours are not limited by the whistle， and whose hair is fast turning white through the struggle to hold in line dowdy indifference， slipshod imbecility， and the heartless ingratitude which， but for their enterprise， would be both hungry and homeless.
Have I put the matter too strongly？ Possibly I have； but when all the world has gone a-slumming I wish to speak a word of sympathy for the man who succeeds—the man who， against great odds， has directed the efforts of others， and having succeeded， finds there’s nothing in it： nothing but bare board and clothes. I have carried a dinner-pail and worked for day’s wages， and I have also been an employer of labor， and I know there is something to be said on both sides. There is no excellence， perse， in poverty； rags are no recommendation； and all employers are not rapacious and high-handed， any more than all poor men are virtuous. My heart goes out to the man who does his work when the “boss” is away， as well as when he is at home. And the man who， when given a letter for Garcia， quietly takes the missive， without asking any idiotic questions， and with no lurking intention of chucking it into the nearest sewer， or of doing aught else but deliver it， never gets “laid off ”， nor has to go on a strike for higher wages.