4 had no thought of settling down, but came only for the big money, the drinking, the good times. Then they would go away to cut stone some other place, leaving behind a bad name and maybe some girl a-weeping. There were fights, there were dark deeds and stormy times. The people born here blamed us all for what the bad ones did. There were many solemn and dour ones among the natives here, just as there are among the Scottish countryfolks. They couldn't understand the noisy fun and loudness of the Italians and Spaniards or the brawling of the Irish. It was all new to them. They did not like it. Their peaceful little country village become a madhouse. But it brought money, business, prosperity, wealth, the granite did, and no man can go about denying it. All profited alike — farmers, landowners, storekeepers, business men, every one. Still they did not like at first, the native folks for the most. They looked upon us like an army of invaders. But we had our trade to work at, our steady money coming in, our own countrymen and friends, and our own pride of self and country. So we did not mind it so much. And it changed as time went on. People mingled more and became friends.
“I was a fair enough carver, so they say. But I was never with the best of them. The best ones came from Italy. No better workmen maybe, but with more of the, artist in them, more of the inspiration. Like the old time sculptors, they were. One of the finest, a slim fair Italian, a statue-cutter — he died at thirty, or younger. He had beauty in himself, he could put it into the stone. All of the best ones are gone now. The list real one, the best one left, had to stop working a time