of life than has his white and civilized (!) brother who worries, for
he says: Change what can be changed; bear the unchangeable without
a murmur. With this philosophy he braves the wind and the rain, the
sand, and the storm, the extremes of heat and cold, the plethora of a
good harvest or the famine of a drought. If he complains it is within
himself; and if he whines and whimpers no one ever hears him. His
face may become a little more stern under the higher pressure; he may
tighten his waist belt a hole or two to stifle the complaints of his
empty stomach, but his voice loses no note of its cheeriness and his
smile none of its sweet serenity.

Why should the rude and brutal (!) savage be thus, while the cultured,
educated, refined man and woman of civilization worry wrinkles into
their faces, gray hairs upon their heads, querelousness into their
voices and bitterness into their hearts?

When we use the word "worry" what do we mean? The word comes from the
old Saxon, and was in imitation of the sound caused by the choking or
strangling of an animal when seized by the throat by another animal.
We still refer to the "worrying" of sheep by dogs--the seizing by the
throat with the teeth; killing or badly injuring by repeated biting,
shaking, tearing, etc. From this original meaning the word has
enlarged until now it means to tease, to trouble, to harass with
importunity or with care or anxiety. In other words it is _undue_
care, _needless_ anxiety, _unnecessary_ brooding, _fretting_ thought.

What a wonderful picture the original source of the word suggests of
the latter-day meaning. Worry takes our manhood, womanhood, our high
ambitions, our laudable endeavors, our daily lives, _by the throat_,
and strangles, chokes, bites, tears, shakes them, hanging on like a