Behind Lauer's mild blue eyes lurked a mind that burrowed incessantly
to the roots of things. He had lived and worked and read, and,
pondering it all, he had summed up a few of the verities.
"Life, it iss giffen us, und ve must off it make der best ve can," he
said once to Hazel, fondling a few books he had borrowed to read at
home. "Life iss goot, yust der liffing off life, if only ve go not
astray afder der voolish dings--und if der self-breservation struggle
vears us not out so dot ve gannot enjoy being alife. So many iss
struggle und slave under terrible conditions. Und it iss largely
because off ignorance. Ve know not vot ve can do--und ve shrink vrom
der unknown. Here iss acres by der dousand vree to der man vot can off
it make use--und dousands vot liffs und dies und neffer hass a home.
Here iss goot, glean air--und in der shmoke und shmells und dirty
streets iss a ravage of tuberculosis. Der balance iss not true. Und
in der own vay der rich iss full off drouble--drunk mit eggcitement,
veary mit bleasures. Ach, der voods und mountains und streams, blenty
off food, und a kindly neighbor--iss not dot enough? Only der abnormal
vants more as dot. Und I dink der drouble iss largely dot der modern,
high-bressure cifilization makes for der abnormal, vedder a man iss a
millionaire or vorks in der brewery, contentment iss a state off der
mind--und if der mind vorks mit logic it vill content find in der
simple dings.
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