LXXIX. THERE'S ROOM ENOUGH FOR ALL.
Reading edition
"'What need of all this fuss and strife, Each warring with his brother? Why should we in the crowd of life, Keep trampling down each other? Is there no goal that can be won, Without a fight to gain it? No other way of getting on, But grappling to obtain it?'
"No, my gracious! no! We have to fight like ten thousand; contest every inch of ground; and if you get one step forward of your neighbor, envy and malice will be on your skirts in a twinkling; trying to hoist themselves up, or pull you down—they are not particular which. For every laurel you earn, you will gain the everlasting hate of every distanced competitor; not that they won't smile and congratulate you; but Judas left a few descendants, when he 'went to his own place.'
"'Room enough for all?' not by a hemisphere! For every crumb Dame Fortune tosses out of her lap, there's a regular pitched battle and no place to fight in. Well, if your blood leaps through your veins as it ought, instead of putting your thumbs in your mouth and whining about it, you'll just set your teeth together, make a plunge for your share of the spoils, and hold on to it after you get it, too! My gracious, yes. Peace, and love, and harmony are very pretty things, no doubt, but you don't see 'em often in this latitude and longitude.
"Well, there's no help for it. You just go pussy-cat-ting through creation once, with velvet claws, and see what lean ribs you'll have to show for it! At the mercy of every little pinafore ruffian that knows English enough to cry 'scat!'
"If you earn anything beside cat-nips, I hope you'll come and tell me! No—I'm persuaded it's no use to talk through your nose, and look sanctified; male and female Moses-es always get imposed upon. Besides, you heathen, if you look in Genesis, you'll find yourself a fore-ordained victim—no dodging the curse. 'By the sweat of your brow,' you must earn your bread and butter. The old serpent who fetched it on us, knows we are all fulfilling our destiny! Eve wasn't smart about that apple business. I know forty ways I could have fixed him—without burning my fingers, either. It makes me quite frantic to think I lost such a prime chance to circumvent the old sinner!"