"Well, of course," began Martin hesitatingly, "comparisons are always
odious."
"Oh, we can bear them." Miss Brodie's smile was slightly sarcastic.
"Well, then, speaking generally," said Martin, somewhat nettled by her
smile, "in this country there are heaps of chaps that simply can't fall
down because of the supports that surround them, supports of custom,
tradition, not to speak of their countless friends, sisters, cousins,
and aunts; if they're anyways half decent they're kept a going; whereas
if they are in a new country and with few friends, they must stand alone
or fall. Here the crowd support them; there the crowd, eager to get on,
shove them aside or trample them down."
"Rather a ghastly picture that," said Miss Brodie.
"But true; that is, of the unfit. People haven't time to bother with
them; the game is too keen."
"Surely the picture is overdrawn," said Doctor Dunn.
"It may be, Sir," replied Martin, "but I have seen so many young fellows
who had been shipped out to Canada because they were failures at home. I
have seen them in very hard luck."
"And what about the fit?" inquired Miss Brodie.
"They get credit for every ounce that's in them."
"But that is so in Scotland as well."
"Pardon me, Miss Brodie, hardly. Here even strong men and fit men have
to wait half a lifetime for the chance that calls for all that's in
them.
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