The lines of the pens or corrals, or whatever they are called, are fascinating to draw—and fascinating it is to watch the picadors, or cowboys, or whatever you call them, rounding up the cattle, and all the lines of the design lead up to the packing-houses which fill the distance. I have never been in them, don't want to go, and have no interest in the social, financial, or sanitary condition of them. I am always being criticised for lacking interest in such matters, but my critics do not realize I am simply an artist searching for the Wonder of Work—not for morals—political economy—stories of sweating—the crime of ugliness. I am trying to record the Wonder of Work as I see it, that is all.