The labor argus. [volume] (Charleston, W. Va.) 1906-1915, 1911-12-14
MAN HAS MORE
SYMPATHY
For the Beast Than For the
Wage Slave.
BY Harold w. Houston.

bS EldEOlu W. fiOuStCn.
AS We read the captivating ro-
nance of the Spanish conquest of
America We are struck by the con-
spicious part played by the horse in
this historic drama. 1t stands in the
fore ground of the picture of Pfzarro
and his sturdy brigands as we see
them bowling long over these
morvels Of engineering skill-the
national roads of the ancient Incas
with the tropical sun flashing
from the golden horse-shoes. Upon
the back Of the noble horse sits the
plundering Cortez as he nrst looks
down upon the wonderful metropolis
of ancient Mexico. The rapid con-
quest of the western world was made
possible only by the horse This
faithful friend%of man, drawing his
loads and carrying him with such
fidelity through the centuries past,
has endeared him to the. human
heart. So, when we see him beaten
and abused in the streets of our
cities by brute in human guise
We are driven TO protest against
sach inhumanity and are glad of an
opportunity to commit the offender
to the tender mercies of the law
Our sympathies-those that make
man the paragon of animals-go
out to our humble and defenseless
friend-the horse. We are moved
to deepest pity by his undeserved
suffering. This is indeed a noble
attribute, but after all are we not
congenitally blind.
In your daily walks along the
paths into which life leads YOU, do
you see nothing there to appeal to
your sympathies? Is there nothing
that touches the tender places in
your heart? Have You ever OBJ
served the stopped worker of ad-
'vanced years going slowly "home..
after hard days work in the. mill :?
Did you ever stop to think of the
life OF this worker? How, from boy
hood days until the closing evening
of life. day after day aud year after
year, he has performed the same
task. Did you ever stop to think of
how his lofty hopes and aspira tions
gradually faded hopelessly into the
feeting years? How, with the pass.
ing days his manhood was emascu-
lated and he became a mere auto
maton, performing his monotonous
task in lifeless irudgery? Have you
never seen little child With bum
die OF shoe strings or a few papers
look up into your eyes pleadingfy
as she asked you to buy? Did you
notice the pale checks. the timii
look, the haunted expression of this
pathetic angel OF the cutters? Has
a mental picture of the tradegy of
this child life ever fitted across your
mind? Have you seen her in after
years. just when she should be flow
ering into noble womanhood. walk
ing the streets clad in the stained
garments of the courtesan? Have
You ever passed an old woman
scrubbing the floors of some public
building. down on her knees in the
fifth and dirt? What must be her
life?
Yes. you have seen all this and
much more. If You are the average
person YOU have probably passea
them all by nuEnberless times. and
if you stopped to think at all it was
only to reflect that ''the poor ye
have always with ye." You have
consoled yourself with the comfort
ing thought that You are not to
blame for it all. Poor things. let
them be contented with the lot to
which it has pleased God TO assign
them" You will go to Your COM
Portable pews, fold your white hands
reverently across your amply flied
stomach. listen 20 the monotonous
drone from the pulpit. mechanically
sing some sacred" hymns. kneel
devoutly (after seeing that your
dainty skirts are not "mussed'' up)
in PRAYER, drop Il few pennies in the
foreign mission box. and go to your
comfortable homes feeling that all
is we'll. Your minister has told
YOU. as one at Clarksburg did a few
days ago. that "all is we'll"
Oh. my brothers and my sisters IL
YOU but only knew, If you could
but see the blood stain on your
garments, If YOU but knew the
precious human life that went into
the delicately woven cloth of which
YOUR garments are made, Those
filmy laces may appear white bur
it is because the red corpuscles have
been hleached under the hot sun
of poverty. The fingers of starved
fairies have fashioned them for you
with infinite care and infinite pain.
The marvellous colors of softeneti
light fliterinC through the cathedraI
windows has been stolen from the
lives of those who live beneath the
sombre shades of Want. Wherever