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As long as a cow will rustle she's all right, but the minute she's too weak to travel she gits to be a water-bum hangs around the spring and drinks until she starves to death. But if you feed 'em a little every day they'll drift back to the ridges at night and pick up a little more. I'm sorry for them lily-white hands of yourn, pardner, but which place would you like to work at?"
The laws of equality " "May appear very good arguments to a starving man, I grant, but still, won't prevent his fellow creatures from hanging him," replied Gascoigne. "None of your confounded nonsense, Jack; no man starves with money in his pocket, and as long as you have that, leave those that have none to talk about equality and the rights of man."
But after all, the old-fashioned deadfall is more humane than any other way of trapping, as it often ends the animal's suffering at once by killing it outright, instead of holding it a prisoner till it starves or is frozen to death, before the hunter arrives on his usual weekly round of that particular trapping path.
This stoicism is good in its refusal to be foundered; bad in that it fosters a narrow outlook; starves emotion, spontaneity, and frank sympathy; destroys grace and what one may describe roughly as the lovable side of personality. The English hardly ever say just what comes into their heads.
"Yes," said Bob Garth, "there is that; but they starves them so much when they are young, and that does not make sinew or bone." Notwithstanding Garth's predictions, the Jensen's mansion was reached in half an hour from Vandstrup Præstegaard, and Garth drove up with a flourish that impressed Herr Jensen, who was on the door steps.
Sensible Gentiles do not worry themselves by over-anxiety, after they have taken for the morrow's needs all the care they can; but they do not act like birds or like lilies, for they know that many a bird starves in a hard winter because it is not capable of gathering and storing food into barns, and that many a garbless lily is shrivelled up by the cold east wind.
"To the Soul that will not study the needs of its immortal nature, life itself becomes a narrow cell. All God's creation waits upon it to supply what it shall demand, yet it starves in the midst of plenty.
That the effect is pleasing must be acknowledged as illustrated in the plate showing a tapestry for the country house of Mrs. E. H. Harriman. These are times of commerce more than of art. If art can be made profitable commercially, well and good. If not, it starves in a garret along with the artist. If the demand for modern tapestries was large enough, the art would flourish perhaps.
They are too useful not to command that popular sympathy which is the higher law. The flocks and herds upon a thousand plains are theirs. Every norther that freezes and every drought that starves some of the wandering cattle and sheep brings to them provision. The railroads also, not less than the winds of heaven, are their friends, the fatal cow-catcher being an ever-busy caterer.
Every man who piles up mo' money than he needs actually needs in life, robs every other man or woman or child in the worl' that pinches and slaves and starves for it in vain. Every man who makes a big fortune leaves just that many wrecked homes in his path."
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