"Some of them you won't know when you do see them," said Nellie. "On Long Island we have agricultural and industrial stations like—like—I think we had something like it in some of our Western colleges, which it was the fashion to look down upon. We have a graded series of dwellings where the use of modern conveniences is taught to all newcomers."
"Suppose they won't learn? They used to prefer to live like hogs, as I remember."
Again Nellie looked at me as if I were speaking to her from a distance.
"We used to say so—and I suppose we used to think so—some of us. But we know better now. These people are not compelled to come to our country, but if they come they know what they have to do—and they do it. You may have noticed that we have no 'steerage.'"
I had noticed it.
"They have decent surroundings from the first step. They have to be antiseptically clean, they and all their belongings, before entering the ship."
"But what an awful expense!" I ventured.
"Suppose you keep cattle, John, and knew how to fatten and improve them; and suppose your ranch was surrounded by strays—mavericks—anxious to come in. Would you call it 'an expense' to add to your herd?"
"You can't sell people."
"No, but you can profit by their labor."