The people have bad mouths. Their mouths are slack
and the jaws do not hang right. The mouths are like the shoes they
wear. The shoes have become run down at the corners from too much
pounding on the hard pavements and the mouths have become crooked from
too much weariness of soul.
Something is wrong with modern American life and we Americans do not
want to look at it. We much prefer to call ourselves a great people
and let it go at that.
It is evening and the people of Chicago go home from work. Clatter,
clatter, clatter, go the heels on the hard pavements, jaws wag, the
wind blows and dirt drifts and sifts through the masses of the people.
Every one has dirty ears. The stench in the street cars is horrible.
The antiquated bridges over the rivers are packed with people. The
suburban trains going away south and west are cheaply constructed and
dangerous. A people calling itself great and living in a city also
called great go to their houses a mere disorderly mass of humans
cheaply equipped. Everything is cheap. When the people get home to
their houses they sit on cheap chairs before cheap tables and eat
cheap food. They have given their lives for cheap things. The poorest
peasant of one of the old countries is surrounded by more beauty. His
very equipment for living has more solidity.
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