We ride on the fast train, but chafe and worry ourselves and everybody about us to a frazzle because we are stopped on a siding by a semaphore of a block station which we never have observed, and would not understand if we did.

We reap but have not sowed, gather but have not strewed, and that is ever injurious and never beneficial.

Our conceit is flattered and enlarged, our importance magnified, our "dignity"-- God save the mark!--made more impressive, and as a result, we are more the target for the inconsequential worries of life.

We worry if we are not flattered, if our importance is not recognized even by strangers, and our dignity not honored--in other words we worry that we are not _kow-towed_ to, deferred to, respectfully greeted on every hand and made to feel that civilization, progress and advancement are materially furthered and enhanced by our mere existence.
Every individual with such an outlook on life is a prolific distributer of worry germs; he, she, is a pest and a nuisance, more disturbing to the real peace of the community than a victim of smallpox, and one who should be isolated in a pest-house.

But, unfortunately, our myopic vision sees only the wealth, the luxury, the spending capacity of such an individual, and that ends it--we bow down and worship before the golden calf.
If I had the time in these pages to discuss the history of worry, I am assured I could show clearly to the student of history that worry is always the product of prosperity; that while a nation is hard at work at its making, and every citizen is engaged in arduous labor of one kind or another for the upbuilding of his own or the national power, worry is scarcely known.