KEEPING UP

WITH

LIZZIE

BY

IRVING BACHELLER

ILLUSTRATED BYW. H. D. KOERNER

HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERSNEW YORK AND LONDON

COPYRIGHT, 1910, 1911, BY HARPER & BROTHERS

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICAPUBLISHED MARCH, 1911

C-N

TO

THE LOVING AND BELOVED"MR. ONEDEAR"I DEDICATE THIS LITTLE BOOK

CONTENTS

CHAP. 

I. IN WHICH THE LEADING TRADESMEN OF POINTVIEW BECOME A BOARD OF ASSESSORS

II. IN WHICH LIZZIE RETURNS TO HER HOME, HAVING MET A QUEEN AND ACQUIRED AN ACCENT AND A FIANCE

III. IN WHICH LIZZIE DESCENDS PROM A GREAT HEIGHT

IV. IN WHICH THE HAM WAR HAS ITS BEGINNING

V. IN WHICH LIZZIE EXERTS AN INFLUENCE ON THE AFFAIRS OF THE RICH AND GREAT

VI. IN WHICH THE PURSUIT OF LIZZIE BECOMES HIGHLY SERIOUS

VII. IN WHICH THE HONORABLE SOCRATES POTTER CATCHES UP WITH LIZZIE

ILLUSTRATIONS

A DUEL WITH AUTOMOBILES

WITH HIS MIND ON THE SUBJECT OF EXTRAVAGANCE

"SEVEN DOLLARS A BARREL"

"I WANTED YE TO TELL MR. POTTER ABOUT YER TRAVELS, " SAYS SAM

LIZZIE DROPPED INTO A CHAIR AND BEGAN TO CRY

BILL AN' I GOT TOGETHER OFTEN AN' TALKED OF THE OLD HAPPY DAYS

WE SET OUT FOR A TRAMP OVER THE BIG FARM

"I'M A CANDIDATE FOR NEW HONORS"

THREE DAYS LATER I DROVE TO THE VILLA

THE BOY EXERTED HIS CHARMS UPON MY LADY WARBURTON. 

SHE LED US INTO THE BEDROOM

THEIR EYES WERE WIDE WITH WONDER

KEEPING UP WITH LIZZIE

KEEPING UP WITH LIZZIE

IN WHICH THE LEADING TRADESMEN OF POINTVIEW BECOME A BOARD OFASSESSORS

The Honorable Socrates Potter was the only "scientific man" in thevillage of Pointview, Connecticut. In every point of manhood hewas far ahead of his neighbors. In a way he had outstrippedhimself, for, while his ideas were highly modern, he clung to thedress and manners that prevailed in his youth. He wore broadclothevery day, and a choker, and chewed tobacco, and never permittedhis work to interfere with the even tenor of his conversation. Heloved the old times and fashions, and had a drawling tongue andoften spoke in the dialect of his fathers, loving the sound of it. His satirical mood was sure to be flavored with clipped words andchanged tenses. The stranger often took him for a "hayseed, " buton further acquaintance opened his mouth in astonishment, for Soc. Potter, as many called him, was a man of insight and learning andof a quality of wit herein revealed. He used to call himself "anattorney and peacemaker, " but he was more than that. He was theattorney and friend of all his clients, and the philosopher of hiscommunity. If one man threatened another with the law in thatneighborhood, he was apt to do it in these terms, "We'll see whatSoc. Potter has to say about that. "

"All right! We'll see, " the other would answer, and both partieswould be sure to show up at the lawyer's office. Then, probably, Socrates would try his famous lock-and-key expedient. He would sitthem down together, lock the door, and say, "Now, boys, I don'tbelieve in getting twelve men for a job that two can do better, "and generally he would make them agree. 

He had an office over the store of Samuel Henshaw, and made aspecialty of deeds, titles, epigrams, and witticisms. 

He was a bachelor who called now and then at the home of MissBetsey Smead, a wealthy spinster of Pointview, but nothing had evercome of it. 

He sat with his feet on his desk and his mind on the subject ofextravagance. When he was doing business he sat like other men, but when his thought assumed a degree of elevation his feet rosewith it. He began his story by explaining that it was all true butthe names. 

[Illustration: With his mind on the subject of extravagance. ]

"This is the balloon age, " said he, with a merry twinkle in hisgray eyes. "The inventor has led us into the skies. The odor ofgasoline is in the path of the eagle. Our thoughts are betweenearth and heaven; our prices have followed our aspirations in theupward flight. Now here is Sam Henshaw. Sam? Why, he's amerchant prince o' Pointview--grocery business--had a girl--name o'Lizzie--smart and as purty as a wax doll. Dan Pettigrew, thenoblest flower o' the young manhood o' Pointview, fell in love withher. No wonder. We were all fond o' Lizzie. They were a han'somecouple, an' together about half the time. 

"Well, Sam began to aspire, an' nothing would do for Lizzie but theSmythe school at Hardcastle at seven hundred dollars a year. Sothey rigged her up splendid, an' away she went. Prom that day sheset the pace for this community. Dan had to keep up with Lizzie, and so his father, Bill Pettigrew, sent him to Harvard. Othergirls started in the race, an' the first we knew there was a bigfield in this maiden handicap. 

"Well, Sam had been aspirin' for about three months, when he beganto perspire. The extras up at Hardcastle had exceeded hisexpectations. He was goin' a hot pace to keep up with Lizzie, an'it looked as if his morals was meltin' away. 

"I was in the northern part o' the county one day, an' saw somewonderful, big, red, tasty apples. 

"'What ye doin' with yer apples?' says I to the grower. 

"'I've sent the most of 'em to Samuel Henshaw, o' Pointview, an'he's sold 'em on commission, ' says he. 

"'What do ye get for 'em ?' I asked. 

"'Two dollars an' ten cents a barrel, ' says he. 

"The next time I went into Sam's store there were the same redapples that came out o' that orchard in the northern part o' thecounty. 

"'How much are these apples?' I says. 

"'Seven dollars a barrel, ' says Sam. 

[Illustration: Seven dollars a barrel. ]

"'How is it that you get seven dollars a barrel an' only return twodollars an' ten cents to the grower?' I says. 

"Sam stuttered an' changed color. I'd been his lawyer for years, an' I always talked plain to Sam. 

"'Wal, the fact is, ' says he, with a laugh an' a wink, 'I soldthese apples to my clerk. '

"'Sam, ye're wastin' yer talents, ' I says. 'Go into the railroadbusiness. '

"Sam was kind o' shamefaced. 

"'It costs so much to live I have to make a decent profitsomewhere, ' says he. 'If you had a daughter to educate, you'd knowthe reason. '

"I bought a bill o' goods, an' noticed that ham an' butter were uptwo cents a pound, an' flour four cents a sack, an' other things inproportion. I didn't say a word, but I see that Sam proposed totax the community for the education o' that Lizzie girl. Folksbegan to complain, but the tax on each wasn't heavy, an' a goodmany people owed Sam an' wasn't in shape to quit him. Then Sam hadthe best store in the village, an' everybody was kind o' proud ofit. So we stood this assessment o' Sam's, an' by a general taxpaid for the education o' Lizzie. She made friends, an' sailedaround in automobiles, an' spent a part o' the Christmas holidayswith the daughter o' Mr. Beverly Gottrich on Fifth Avenue, an'young Beverly Gottrich brought her home in his big red runabout. Oh, that was a great day in Pointview!--that red-runabout day ofour history when the pitcher was broken at the fountain and theythat looked out of the windows trembled. 

"Dan Pettigrew was home from Harvard for the holidays, an' he an'Lizzie met at a church party. They held their heads very high, an'seemed to despise each other an' everybody else. Word went aroundthat it was all off between 'em. It seems that they had riz--notrisen, but riz--far above each other. 

"Now it often happens that when the young ascend the tower o' theiraspirations an' look down upon the earth its average inhabitantseems no larger to them than a red ant. Sometimes there's nobodyin sight--that is, no real body--nothin' but clouds an' rainbowsan' kings an' queens an' their families. Now Lizzie an' Dan wereboth up in their towers an' lookin' down, an' that was probably thereason they didn't see each other. 

"Right away a war began between the rival houses o' Henshaw an'Pettigrew. The first we knew Sam was buildin' a new house with atower on it--by jingo!--an' hardwood finish inside an' half an acrein the dooryard. The tower was for Lizzie. It signalized her risein the community. It put her one flight above anybody in Pointview. 

"As the house rose, up went Sam's prices again. I went over to thestore an' bought a week's provisions, an' when I got the bill I seethat he'd taxed me twenty-nine cents for his improvements. 

"I met one o' my friends, an' I says to him, 'Wal, ' I says, 'Sam isgoin' to make us pay for his new house an' lot. Sam's ham an'flour have jumped again. As an assessor Sam is likely to make hismark. '

"'Wal, what do ye expect?' says he. 'Lizzie is in high society, an' he's got to keep up with her. Lizzie must have a home properto one o' her station. Don't be hard on Sam. '

"'I ain't, ' I says. 'But Sam's house ought to be proper to hisstation instead o' hers. '

"I had just sat down in my office when Bill Pettigrew camein--Sam's great rival in the grocery an' aspiration business. He'dbought a new automobile, an' wanted me to draw a mortgage on hishouse an' lot for two thousand dollars. 

"'You'd better go slow, ' I says. 'It looks like bad business tomortgage your home for an automobile. '

"'It's for the benefit o' my customers, ' says he. 

"'Something purty for 'em to look at?' I asked. 

"'It will quicken deliveries, ' says he. 

"'You can't afford it, ' I says. 

"'Yes, I can, ' says he. 'I've put up prices twenty per cent. , an'it ain't agoin' to bother me to pay for it. '

"'Oh, then your customers are goin' to pay for it!' I says, 'an'you're only a guarantor. '

"'I wouldn't put it that way, ' says he. 'It costs more to livethese days. Everything is goin' up. '

"'Includin' taxes, ' I says to Bill, an' went to work an' drew hismortgage for him, an' he got his automobile. 

"I'd intended to take my trade to his store, but when I saw that heplanned to tax the community for his luxuries I changed my mind andwent over to Eph Hill's. He kept the only other decent grocerystore in the village. His prices were just about on a level withthe others. 

"'How do you explain it that prices have gone up so?' I asked. 

"'Why, they say it's due to an overproduction o' gold, ' says he. 

"'Looks to me like an overproduction of argument, ' I says. 'Theold Earth keeps shellin' out more gold ev'ry year, an' the more shetakes out o' her pockets the more I have to take out o' mine. '

"Wal, o' course I had to keep in line, so I put up the prices o' mywork a little to be in fashion. Everybody kicked good an' plenty, an' nobody worse'n Sam an' Bill an' Ephraim, but I told 'em how I'dread that there was so much gold in the world it kind o' set mehankerin'. 

"Ye know I had ten acres o' worn-out land in the edge o' thevillage, an' while others bought automobiles an' such luxuries Iinvested in fertilizers an' hired a young man out of anagricultural school an' went to farmin'. Within a year I wasraisin' all the meat an' milk an' vegetables that I needed, an'sellin' as much ag'in to my neighbors. 

"Well, Pointview under Lizzie was like Rome under Theodora. Theimmorals o' the people throve an' grew. As prices went up decencywent down, an' wisdom rose in value like meat an' flour. Seemed soeverybody that had a dollar in the bank an' some that didn't boughtautomobiles. They kept me busy drawin' contracts an' deeds an'mortgages an' searchin' titles, an' o' course I prospered. Morethan half the population converted property into cash an' cash intofolly--automobiles, piano-players, foreign tours, vocal music, modern languages, an' the aspirations of other people. They werepuffin' it on each other. Every man had a deep scheme for makin'the other fellow pay for his fun. Reminds me o' that verse fromZechariah, 'I will show them no mercy, saith the Lord, but I willdeliver every man into the hand of his neighbor. ' Now the baronbusiness has generally been lucrative, but here in Pointview therewas too much competition. We were all barons. Everybody wastaxin' everybody else for his luxuries, an' nobody could save acent--nobody but me an' Eph Hill. He didn't buy any automobiles orbuild a new house or send his girl to the seminary. He kept bothfeet on the ground, but he put up his prices along with the rest. By-an'-by Eph had a mortgage on about half the houses in thevillage. That showed what was the matter with the other men. 

"The merchants all got liver-comlaint. There were twenty men thatI used to see walkin' home to their dinner every day or down to thepostoffice every evenin'. But they didn't walk any more. Theyscud along in their automobiles at twenty miles an hour, with thewhole family around 'em. They looked as if they thought that nowat last they were keepin' up with Lizzie. Their homes were emptymost o' the time. The reading-lamp was never lighted. There wasno season o' social converse. Every merchant but Eph Hill grew fatan' round, an' complained of indigestion an' sick-headache. Samlooked like a moored balloon. Seemed so their morals grew fat an'flabby an' shif'less an' in need of exercise. Their moralstravelled too, but they travelled from mouth to mouth, as ye mightsay, an' very fast. More'n half of 'em give up church an' went offon the country roads every Sunday. All along the pike fromPointview to Jerusalem Corners ye could see where they'd laidhumbly on their backs in the dust, prayin' to a new god an' tryin'to soften his heart with oil or open the gates o' mercy with amonkey-wrench. 

"Bill came into my shop one day an' looked as if he hadn't a friendin the world. He wanted to borrow some money. 

"'Money!' I says. 'What makes ye think I've got money?'

"'Because ye ain't got any automobile, ' he says, laughin'. 

"'No, ' I says. 'You bought one, an' that was all I could afford, '

"It never touched him. He went on as dry as a duck in a shower. 'You're one o' the few sensible men in this village. You livewithin yer means, an' you ought to have money if ye ain't. '

"'I've got a little, but I don't see why you should have it, ' Isays. 'You want me to do all the savin' for both of us. '

"'It costs so much to live I can't save a cent, ' he says. 'Youknow I've got a boy in college, an' it costs fearful. I told myboy the other day how I worked my way through school an' lived on adollar a week in a little room an' did my own washin'. He says tome, "Well, Governor, you forget that I have a social position tomaintain. "'

"'He's right, ' I says. 'You can't expect him to belong to thevarsity crew an' the Dickey an' the Hasty-Puddin' Club an' dressan' behave like the son of an ordinary grocer in Pointview, Connecticut. Ye can't live on nuts an' raisins an' be decent insuch a position. Looks to me as if it would require the combinedincomes o' the grocer an' his lawyer to maintain it. His positionis likely to be hard on your disposition. He's tryin' to keep upwith Lizzie--that's what's the matter, '

"For a moment Bill looked like a lost dog. I told him how Grantan' Thomas stood on a hilltop one day an' saw their men bein' moweddown like grass, an' by-an'-by Thomas says to Grant, 'Wal, General, we'll have to move back a little; it's too hot for the boys here. '

"'I'm afraid your boy's position is kind of uncomf'table, ' I says. 

"'I'll win out, ' he says. 'My boy will marry an' settle down in ayear or so, then he'll begin to help me. '

"'But you may be killed off before then, ' I says. 

"'If my friends 'll stand by me I'll pull through, ' says he. 

"'But your friends have their own families to stand by, ' I says. 

"'Look here, Mr. Potter, ' says he. 'You've no such expense as Ihave. You're able to help me, an' you ought to. I've got a notecomin' due tomorrow an' no money to pay it with. '

"'Renew it an' then retrench, ' I says. 'Cut down your expenses an'your prices. '

"'Can't, ' says he. 'It costs too much to live. What 'll I do ?'

"'You ought to die, ' I says, very mad. 

"'I can't, ' says he. 

"'Why not?'

"'It costs so much to die, ' he says. 'Why, it takes a thousan'dollars to give a man a decent funeral these days. '

"'Wal, ' I says, 'a man that can't afford either to live or dieexcites my sympathy an' my caution. You've taxed the community foryer luxuries, an' now ye want to tax me for yer notes. It's unjustdiscrimination. It gives me a kind of a lonesome feelin'. Youtell your boy Dan to come an' see me. He needs advice more thanyou need money, an' I've got a full line of it. '

"Bill went away richer by a check for a few hundred dollars. Oh, Ialways know when I'm losin' money! I'm not like other citizens o'Pointview. 

"Dan came to see me the next Saturday night. He was a big, blue-eyed, handsome, good-natured boy, an' dressed like the son ofa millionaire. I brought him here to the office, an' he sat downbeside me. 

"'Dan, ' I says, 'what are your plans for the future?'

"'I mean to be a lawyer, ' says he. 

"'Quit it, ' I says. 

"'Why?' says he. 

"'There are too many lawyers. We don't need any more. They'redevourin' our substance. '

"'What do you suggest?'

"'Be a real man. We're on the verge of a social revolution. Boyshave been leaving the farms an' going into the cities to be grandfolks. The result is we have too many grand folks an' too few realfolks. The tide has turned. Get aboard. '

"'I don't understand you. '

"'America needs wheat an' corn an' potatoes more than it needsarguments an' theories. '

"'Would you have me be a farmer?' he asked, in surprise. 

"'A farmer!' I says. 'It's a new business--an exact science thesedays. Think o' the high prices an' the cheap land with itsproductiveness more than doubled by modern methods. The country islonging for big, brainy men to work its idle land. Soon we shallnot produce enough for our own needs. '

"'But I'm too well educated to be a farmer, ' says he. 

"'Pardon me, ' I says. 'The land 'll soak up all the educationyou've got an' yell for more. Its great need is education. We'vebeen sending the smart boys to the city an' keeping the fools onthe farm. We've put everything on the farm but brains. That'swhat's the matter with the farm. '

"'But farming isn't dignified, ' says Dan. 

"'Pardon me ag'in, ' says I. 'It's more dignified to search for thesecrets o' God in the soil than to grope for the secrets o' Satanin a lawsuit. Any fool can learn Blackstone an' Kent an'Greenleaf, but the book o' law that's writ in the soil is only forkeen eyes. '

"'I want a business that fits a gentleman, ' says Dan. 

"'An' the future farmer can be as much of a gentleman as God 'lllet him, ' says I. 'He'll have as many servants as his talents canemploy. His income will exceed the earnings o' forty lawyers takenas they average. His position will be like that o' the richplanter before the war. '

"'Well, how shall I go about it?' he says, half convinced. 

"'First stop tryin' to keep up with Lizzie, ' says I. 'The way tobeat Lizzie is to go toward the other end o' the road. Ye see, you've dragged yer father into the race, an' he's about winded. Turn around an' let Lizzie try to keep up with you. Second, changeyer base. Go to a school of agriculture an' learn the businessjust as you'd go to a school o' law or medicine. Begin modest. Live within yer means. If you do right I'll buy you all the landye want an' start ye goin'. '

"When he left I knew that I'd won my case. In a week or so he sentme a letter saying that he'd decided to take my advice. 

"He came to see me often after that. The first we knew he wasgoin' with Marie Benson. Marie had a reputation for good sense, but right away she began to take after Lizzie, an' struck atolerably good pace. Went to New York to study music an' perfectherself in French. 

"I declare it seemed as if about every girl in the village wastryin' to be a kind of a princess with a full-jewelled brain. Girls who didn't know an adjective from an adverb an' would havebeen stuck by a simple sum in algebra could converse in French an'sing in Italian. Not one in ten was willin', if she knew how, tosweep a floor or cook a square meal. Their souls were above it. Their feet were in Pointview an' their heads in Dreamland. Theytalked o' the doin's o' the Four Hundred an' the successes o'Lizzie. They trilled an' warbled; they pounded the family piano;they golfed an' motored an' whisted; they engaged in the titivationof toy dogs an' the cultivation o' general debility; they atecaramels an' chocolates enough to fill up a well; they complained;they dreamed o' sunbursts an' tiaras while their papas worriedabout notes an' bills; they lay on downy beds of ease with the lastbest seller, an' followed the fortunes of the bold youth until hefound his treasure at last in the unhidden chest of the heroine;they created what we are pleased to call the servant problem, whichis really the drone problem, caused by the added number who toilnot, but have to be toiled for; they grew in fat an' folly. Somewere both ox-eyed an' peroxide. Homeliness was to them the onlymisfortune, fat the only burden, and pimples the great enemy ofwoman. 

"Now the organs of the human body are just as shiftless as the onethat owns 'em. The systems o' these fair ladies couldn't do theirown work. The physician an' the surgeon were added to the list o'their servants, an' became as necessary as the cook an' thechambermaid. But they were keeping up with Lizzie. Poor things!They weren't so much to blame. They thought their fathers wererich, an' their fathers enjoyed an' clung to that reputation. Theyhid their poverty an' flaunted the flag of opulence. 

"It costs money, big money an' more, to produce a generation ofinvalids. The fathers o' Pointview had paid for it with sweat an'toil an' broken health an' borrowed money an' the usual tax addedto the price o' their goods or their labor. Then one night thecashier o' the First National Bank blew out his brains. We foundthat he had stolen eighteen thousand dollars in the effort to keepup. That was a lesson to the Lizzie-chasers! Why, sir, we foundthat each of his older girls had diamond rings an' could sing inthree languages, an' a boy was in college. Poor man! he didn'tsteal for his own pleasure. Everything went at auction--house, grounds, rings, automobile. Another man was caught sellin' underweight with fixed scales, an' went to prison. Henry Brown failed, an' we found that he had borrowed five hundred dollars from JohnBass, an' at the same time John Bass had borrowed six hundred fromTom Rogers, an' Rogers had borrowed seven hundred an' fifty fromSam Henshaw, an' Henshaw had borrowed the same amount from PercivalSmith, an' Smith had got it from me. The chain broke, the notestructure fell like a house o' cards, an' I was the onlyloser--think o' that. There were five capitalists an' only one manwith real money. 

II

IN WHICH LIZZIE RETURNS TO HER HOME, HAVING MET A QUEEN ANDACQUIRED AN ACCENT AND A FIANCE

"Sam Henshaw's girl had graduated an' gone abroad with her mother. One Sunday 'bout a year later, Sam flew up to the door o' my housein his automobile. He lit on the sidewalk an' struggled up thesteps with two hundred an' forty-seven pounds o' meat on him. Hewalked like a man carryin' a barrel o' pork. He acted as if he wasglad to see me an' the big arm-chair on the piaz'. 

"'What's the news?' I asked. 

"'Lizzie an' her mother got back this mornin', ' he gasped. 'They've been six months in Europe. Lizzie is in love with it. She's hobnobbed with kings an' queens. She talks art beautiful. Iwish you'd come over an' hear her hold a conversation. It'swonderful. She's goin' to be a great addition to this community. She's got me faded an' on the run. I ran down to the store for afew minutes this mornin', an' when I got back she says to me:

"'"Father, you always smell o' ham an' mustard. Have you been inthat disgusting store? Go an' take a bahth at once. " That's whatshe called it--a "bahth. " Talks just like the Englishpeople--she's been among 'em so long. Get into my car an' I'lltake ye over an' fetch ye back. '

"Sam regarded his humiliation with pride an' joy. At last Lizziehad convinced him that her education had paid. My curiosity wasexcited. I got in an' we flew over to his house. Sam yelled upthe stairway kind o' joyful as we come in, an' his wife answered atthe top o' the stairs an' says:

"'Mr. Henshaw, I wish you wouldn't shout in this house like a boycalling the cows. '

"I guess she didn't know I was there. Sam ran up-stairs an' back, an' then we turned into that splendid parlor o' his an' set down. Purty soon Liz an' her mother swung in an' smiled very pleasant an'shook hands an' asked how was my family, etc. , an' went right ontalkin'. I saw they didn't ask for the purpose of gettin'information. Liz was dressed to kill an' purty as apicture--cheeks red as a rooster's comb an' waist like a hornet's. The cover was off her showcase, an' there was a diamond sunburst inthe middle of it, an' the jewels were surrounded by charms to whichI am not wholly insensible even now. 

"'I wanted ye to tell Mr. Potter about yer travels, ' says Sam. 

[Illustration: "I wanted ye to tell Mr. Potter about yer travels. "says Sam. ]

"Lizzie smiled an' looked out o' the window a minute an' fetched asigh an' struck out, lookin' like Deacon Bristow the day he giveten dollars to the church. She told about the cities an' the folksan' the weather in that queer, English way she had o' talking'>

"'Tell how ye hobnobbed with the Queen o' Italy, ' Sam says. 

"'Oh, father! Hobnobbed!' says she. 'Anybody would think that sheand I had manicured each other's hands. She only spoke a few wordsof Italian and looked very gracious an' beautiful an' complimentedmy color. '

"Then she lay back in her chair, kind o' weary, an' Sam asked mehow was business--just to fill in the gap, I guess. Liz woke upan' showed how far she'd got ahead in the race. 

"'Business!' says she, with animation. 'That's why I haven't anypatience with American men. They never sit down for ten minuteswithout talking business. Their souls are steeped incommercialism. Don't you see how absurd it is, father? There areplenty of lovely things to talk about. '

"Sam looked guilty, an' I felt sorry for him. It had cost heavy toeducate his girl up to a p'int where she could give him so muchadvice an' information. The result was natural. She was irritatedby the large cubic capacity--the length, breadth, and thickness ofhis ignorance and unrefinement; he was dazed by the length, breadth, an' thickness of her learning an' her charm. He didn'tsay a word. He bowed his head before this pretty, perfumed casketof erudition. 

"'You like Europe, ' I says. 

"'I love it, ' says she, 'It's the only place to live. There onefinds so much of the beautiful in art and music and so manycultivated people. '

"Lizzie was a handsome girl, an' had more sense than any o' theothers that tried to keep up with her. After all, she was Sam'sfault, an' Sam was a sin conceived an' committed by his wife, as yemight say. She had made him what he was. 

"'Have you seen Dan Pettigrew lately?' Lizzie asked. 

"'Yes. ' I says. 'Dan is goin' to be a farmer. '

"'A farmer!" says she, an' covered her face with her handkerchiefan' shook with merriment. 

"'Yes, ' I says. 'Dan has come down out o' the air. He's abandonedfolly. He wants to do something to help along. '

"'Yes, of course, ' says Lizzie, in a lofty manner. 'Dan is reallyan excellent boy--isn't he?'

"'Yes, an' he's livin' within his means--that's the firstmile-stone in the road to success, ' I says. 'I'm goin' to buy hima thousand acres o' land, an' one o' these days he'll own it an' asmuch more. You wait. He'll have a hundred men in his employ, an'flocks an' herds an' a market of his own in New York. He'llcontrol prices in this county, an' they're goin' down. He'll be aforce in the State. '

"They were all sitting up. The faces o' the Lady Henshaw an' herdaughter turned red. 

"'I'm very glad to hear it, I'm sure, ' said her Ladyship. 

"'I wasn't so sure o' that as she was, an' there, for me, was themilk in the cocoanut. I was joyful. 

"'Why, it's perfectly lovely!' says Lizzie, as she fetched herpretty hands together in her lap. 

"'Yes, you want to cultivate Dan, ' I says. 'He's a man to bereckoned with. '

"'Oh, indeed!' says her Ladyship. 

"'Yes, indeed!' I says, 'an' the girls are all after him. '

"I just guessed that. I knew it was unscrupulous, but livin' herein this atmosphere does affect the morals even of a lawyer. Lizziegrew red in the face. 

"'He could marry one o' the Four Hundred if he wanted to, ' I says. 'The other evening he was seen in the big red tourin'-car o' theVan Alstynes. What do you think o' that?'

"Now that was true, but the chauffeur had been a college friend o'Dan's, an' I didn't mention that. 

"Lizzie had a dreamy smile in her face. 

"'Why, it's wonderful!' says she. 'I didn't know he'd improved so. '

"'I hear that his mother is doing her own work, ' says the LadyHenshaw, with a forced smile. 

"'Yes, think of it, ' I says. 'The woman is earning her dailybread--actually helpin' her husband. Did you ever hear o' such athing! I'll have to scratch 'em off my list. It's too uncommon. It ain't respectable. '

"Her Ladyship began to suspect me an' retreated with her chin inthe air. She'd had enough. 

"I thought that would do an' drew out o' the game. Lizzie lookedconfident. She seemed to have something up her sleeve besides thatlovely arm o' hers. 

"I went home, an' two days later Sam looked me up again. Then thesecret came out o' the bag. He'd heard that I had some money inthe savings-banks over at Bridgeport payin' me only three and ahalf per cent. , an' he wanted to borrow it an' pay me six per cent. His generosity surprised me. It was not like Sam. 

"'What's the matter with you?' I asked. 'Is it possible that yourprofits have all gone into gasoline an' rubber an' silk an'education an' hardwood finish an' human fat?'

"'Well, it costs so much to live, ' he says, 'an' the wholesalershave kept liftin' the prices on me. Now there's the meattrust--their prices are up thirty-five per cent. '

"'Of course, ' I says, 'the directors have to have their luxuries. You taxed us for yer new house an' yer automobile an' yerdaughter's education, an' they're taxin' you for their steam-yachtsan' private cars an' racin' stables. You can't expect to do allthe taxin'. The wholesalers learnt about the profits that you an'others like ye was makin', an' they concluded that they needed apart of 'em. Of course they had to have their luxuries, an'they're taxin' you--they couldn't afford to have 'em if theydidn't. Don't complain. '

"'I'll come out all right, ' he says. 'I'm goin' to raise my wholeschedule fifteen per cent. '

"'The people won't stand it--they can't, ' says I. 'You'll bedrownin' the miller. They'll leave you. '

"'It won't do 'em any good, ' says he. 'Bill an' Eph will maketheir prices agree with mine. '

"'Folks will go back to the land, as I have, ' says I. 

"'They don't know enough, ' says Sam. 'Farmin' is a lost art herein the East. You take my word for it--they'll pay ourprices--they'll have to--an' the rich folks, they don't worry aboutprices. I pay a commission to every steward an' butler in thisneighborhood. '

"'I won't help you, ' says I. 'It's wicked. You ought to havesaved your money. '

"'In a year from now I'll have money to burn, ' he says. 'For onething, my daughter's education is finished, an' that has costheavy. '

"'How much would it cost to unlearn it?' I asked. 'That's goin' tocost more than it did to get it, I'm 'fraid. In my opinion thefirst thing to do with her is to uneducate her. '

"That was like a red-hot iron to Sam. It kind o' het him up. 

"'Why, sir, you don't appreciate her, ' says he. 'That girl is farabove us all here in Pointview. She's a queen. '

"'Well, Sam, ' I says, 'if there's anything you don't need just nowit's a queen. If I were you I wouldn't graft that kind o' fruit onthe grocery-tree. Hams an' coronets don't flourish on the samebush. They have a different kind of a bouquet. They don'tharmonize. Then, Sam, what do you want of a girl that's far aboveye? Is it any comfort to you to be despised in your own home?'

"'Mr. Potter, I haven't educated her for my own home or for thiscommunity, but for higher things, ' says Sam. 

"'You hairy old ass! The first you know, ' I says, 'they'll haveyour skin off an' layin' on the front piaz' for a door-mat. '

"Sam started for the open air. I hated to be ha'sh with him, buthe needed some education himself, an' it took a beetle an' wedge toopen his mind for it. He lifted his chin so high that the fatswelled out on the back of his neck an' unbuttoned his collar. Then he turned an' said: 'My daughter is too good for this town, an' I don't intend that she shall stay here. She has been asked tomarry a man o' fortune in the old country. '

"'So I surmised, an' I suppose you find that the price o' husbandshas gone up, ' I says. 

"Sam didn't answer me. 

"'They want you to settle some money on the girl--don't they?' Iasked. 

"'My wife says it's the custom in the old country, ' says Sam. 

"'Suppose he ain't worth the price?'

"'They say he's a splendid fellow, ' says Sam. 

"'You let me investigate him, ' I says, 'an' if he's really worththe price I'll help ye to pay it. '

"Sam said that was fair, an' thanked me for the offer, an' gave methe young man's address. He was a Russian by the name of AlexanderRolanoff, an' Sam insisted that he belonged to a very old family oflarge means an' noble blood, an' said that the young man would bein Pointview that summer. I wrote to the mayor of the city inwhich he was said to live, but got no answer. 

"Alexander came. He was a costly an' beautiful young man, aboutthirty years old, with red cheeks an' curly hair an' polishedfinger-nails, an' wrote poetry. Sometimes ye meet a man thatexcites yer worst suspicions. Your right hand no sooner lets go o'his than it slides down into your pocket to see if anything hashappened; or maybe you take the arm o' yer wife or yer daughter an'walk away. Aleck leaned a little in both directions. But, sir, Sam didn't care to know my opinion of him. Never said another wordto me on the subject, but came again to ask about the money. 

"'Look here, Sam, ' I says. 'You tell Lizzie that I want to have atalk with her at four o'clock in this office? If she really wantsto buy this man, I'll see what can be done about it. '

"'All right, you talk with her, ' says he, an' went out. 

"In a few minutes Dan showed up. 

"'Have you seen Lizzie?' says I. 

"'Not to speak to her, ' says Dan. 'Looks fine, doesn't she?'

"'Beautiful!'I says. 'How is Marie Benson?'

"'Oh, the second time I went to see her she was trying to keep upwith Lizzie, ' says he. 'She's changed her gait. Was going to NewYork after a lot o' new frills. I suppose she thought that Iwanted a grand lady. That's the trouble with all the girls here. A man might as well marry the real thing as an imitation. I wishLizzie would get down off her high horse. '

"'She's goin' to swap him for one with still longer legs, ' I says. 'Lizzie is engaged to a gentleman o' fortune in the old country. '

"Dan's face began to stretch out long as if it was made ofinjy-rubber. 

"'It's too bad, ' says he. 'Lizzie is a good-hearted girl, if she isspoilt. '

"'Fine girl!' I says. 'An', Dan, I was in hopes that she woulddiscover her own folly before it was too late. But she saw thatothers had begun to push her in the race an' that she had to letout another link or fall behind. '

"'Well, I wish her happiness, ' says Dan, with a sigh. 

"'Go an' tell her so, ' I says. 'Show her that you have some careas to whether she lives or dies. '

"I could see that his feelin's had been honed 'til they were sharpas a razor. 

"'I've seen that fellow, ' he says, 'an' he'll never marry Lizzie ifI can prevent it. I hate the looks of him. I shall improve thefirst opportunity I have to insult him. '

"'That might be impossible, ' I suggested. 

"'But I'll make the effort, ' says Dan. 

"As an insulter I wouldn't wonder if Dan had large capacity whenproperly stirred up. 

"'Better let him alone. I have lines out that will bringinformation. Be patient. '

"Dan rose and said he would see me soon, an' left with a ratherstern look in his face. 

III

IN WHICH LIZZIE DESCENDS FROM A GREAT HEIGHT

"Lizzie was on hand at the hour appointed. We sat down here all byourselves. 

"'Lizzie, ' I says, 'why in the world did you go to Europe for ahusband? It's a slight to Pointview--a discouragement of homeindustry. '

"'There was nobody here that seemed to want me, ' she says, blushin'very sweet. 

"She had dropped her princess manner an' seemed to be ready forstraight talk. 

"'If that's so, Lizzie, it's your fault, ' I says. 

"'I don't understand you, ' says she. 

"'Why, my dear child, it's this way, ' I says. 'Your mother an'father have meant well, but they've been foolish. They've educatedyou for a millionairess, an' all that's lackin' is the millions. You overawed the boys here in Pointview. They thought that youfelt above 'em, whether you did or not; an' the boys on FifthAvenue were glad to play with you, but they didn't care to marryyou. I say it kindly, Lizzie, an' I'm a friend o' yer father's, an' you can afford to let me say what I mean. Those young fellowswanted the millions as well as the millionairess. One of our boysfell in love with ye an' tried to keep up, but your pace was toohot for him. His father got in trouble, an' the boy had to dropout. Every well-born girl in the village entered the race with ye. An era of extravagance set in that threatened the solvency, thehonor, o' this sober old community. Their fathers had to borrowmoney to keep agoin'. They worked overtime, they importuned theircreditors, they wallowed in low finance while their daughtersrevelled in the higher walks o' life an' sang in differentlanguages. Even your father--I tell you in confidence, for Isuppose he wouldn't have the courage to do it--is in financialdifficulties. Now, Lizzie, I want to be kind to you, for I believeyou're a good girl at heart, but you ought to know that all this iswhat your accomplishments have accomplished. '

"She rose an' walked across the room, with trembling lips. She hadseized her parachute an' jumped from her balloon and was slowlyapproachin' the earth. I kept her comin', 'These clothes an'jewels that you wear, Lizzie--these silks an' laces, thesesunbursts an' solitaires--don't seem to harmonize with yourfather's desire to borrow money. Pardon me, but I can't make 'emlook honest. They are not paid for--or if they are they are paidfor with other men's money. They seem to accuse you. They'daccuse me if I didn't speak out plain to ye. '

"All of a sudden Lizzie dropped into a chair an' began to cry. Shehad lit safely on the ground. 

[Illustration: Lizzie dropped into a chair an' began to cry. ]

"It made me feel like a murderer, but it had to be. Poor girl! Iwanted to pick her up like a baby an' kiss her. It wasn't that Iloved Lizzie less but Rome more. She wasn't to blame. Everyspoilt woman stands for a fool-man. Most o' them need--not amaster--but a frank counsellor. I locked the door. She grew calman' leaned on my table, her face covered with her hands. My clockshouted the seconds in the silence. Not a word was said for two orthree minutes. 

"'I have been brutal, ' I says, by-an'-by. 'Forgive me. '

"'Mr. Potter, ' she says, 'you've done me a great kindness. I'llnever forget it. What shall I do?'

"'Well, for one thing, ' says I, 'go back to your old simplicity an'live within your means. '

"'I'll do it, ' she says; 'but--I--I supposed my father was rich. Oh, I wish we could have had this talk before!'

"'Did you know that Dan Pettigrew was in love with you?' I put itstraight from the shoulder. 'He wouldn't dare tell ye, but youought to know it. You are regarded as a kind of a queen here, an'it's customary for queens to be approached by ambassadors. '

"Her face lighted up. 

"'In love with me?' she whispered. 'Why, Mr. Potter, I neverdreamed of such a thing. Are you sure? How do you know? Ithought he felt above me. '

"'An' he thought you felt above him, ' I says. 

"'How absurd! how unfortunate!' she whispered. 'I couldn't marryhim now if he asked me. This thing has gone too far. I wouldn'ttreat any man that way. '

"'You are engaged to Alexander, are you?' I says. 

"'Well, there is a sort of understanding, and I think we are to bemarried if--if--'

"She paused, and tears came to her eyes again. 

"'You are thinking o' the money, ' says I. 

"'I am thinking o' the money, ' says she. 'It has been promised tohim. He will expect it. '

"'Do you think he is an honest man? Will he treat you well?'

"'I suppose so. '

"'Then let me talk with him. Perhaps he would take you withoutanything to boot. '

"'Please don't propose that, ' says she. 'I think he's getting theworst of it now. Mr. Potter, would you lend me the money? I askit because I don't want the family to be disgraced or Mr. Rolanoffto be badly treated. He is to invest the money in my name in avery promising venture. He says he can double it within threemonths. '

"It would have been easy for me to laugh, but I didn't. Lizzie'sattitude in the whole matter pleased me. I saw that her heart wassound. I promised to have a talk with her father and see heragain. I looked into his affairs carefully and put him on a newfinancial basis with a loan of fifteen thousand dollars. 

"One day he came around to my office with Alexander an' wanted meto draw up a contract between him an' the young man. It was arather crude proposition, an' I laughed, an' Aleck sat with a boredsmile on his face. 

"'Oh, if he's good enough for your daughter, ' I said, 'his wordought to be good enough for you. '

"'That's all right, ' says Sam, 'but business is business. I wantit down in black an' white that the income from this money is to bepaid to my daughter, and that neither o' them shall make anyfurther demand on me. '

"Well, I drew that fool contract, an', after it was signed, Samdelivered ten one-thousand-dollar bills to the young man, who wasto become his son-in-law the following month with the assistance ofa caterer and a florist and a string-band, all from New Haven. 

"Within half an hour Dan Pettigrew came roarin' up in front o' myoffice in the big red automobile of his father's. In a minute hecame in to see me. He out with his business soon as he lit in achair. 

"'I've learned that this man Rolanoff is a scoundrel, ' says he. 

"'A scoundrel!' says I. 

"'Of purest ray serene, ' says he. 

"I put a few questions, but he'd nothing in the way o' proof tootter--it was only the statement of a newspaper. 

"'Is that all you know against him?' I asked. 

"'He won't fight, ' says Dan. 'I've tried him--I've begged him tofight. '

"'Well, I've got better evidence than you have, ' I says. 'It camea few minutes before you did. '

"I showed him a cablegram from a London barrister that said:

"'Inquiry complete. The man is a pure adventurer, character _nil_. '

"'We must act immediately, ' says Dan. 

"'I have telephoned all over the village for Sam, ' I says. 'Theysay he's out in his car with Aleck an' Lizzie. I asked them tosend him here as soon as he returns. '

"'They're down on the Post Road I met 'em on my way here, ' saysDan. 'We can overtake that car easy. '

"Well, the wedding-day was approaching an' Aleck had the money, an'the thought occurred to me that he might give 'em the slipsomewhere on the road an' get away with it. I left word in thestore that if Sam got back before I saw him he was to wait withAleck in my office until I returned, an' off we started like abaseball on its way from the box to the catcher. 

"An officer on his motor-cycle overhauled us on the Post Road. Heknew me. 

"'It's a case o' sickness, ' I says, 'an' we're after Sam Henshaw. '

"'He's gone down the road an' hasn't come back yet, ' says theofficer. 

"I passed him a ten-dollar bill. 

"'Keep within sight of us, ' I says. 'We may need you any minute. '

"He nodded and smiled, an' away we went. 

"'I'm wonderin' how we're agoin' to get the money, ' I says, havin'told Dan about it. 

"'I'll take it away from him, ' says Dan. 

"'That wouldn't do, ' says I. 

"'Why not?'

"'Why not!' says I. 'You wouldn't want to be arrested for highwayrobbery. Then, too, we must think o' Lizzie. Poor girl! It'sagoin' to be hard on her, anyhow. I'll try a bluff. It's probablethat he's worked this game before. If so, we can rob him withoutviolence an' let him go. '

"Dan grew joyful as we sped along. 

"'Lizzie is mine, ' he says. 'She wouldn't marry him now. '

"He told me how fond they had been of each other until they gotaccomplishments an' began to put up the price o' themselves. Hesaid that in their own estimation they had riz in value like beefan' ham, an' he confessed how foolish he had been. We were excitedan' movin' fast. 

"'Something'll happen soon, ' he says. 

"An' it did, within ten minutes from date. We could see a blue carhalf a mile ahead. 

"'I'll go by that ol' freight-car o' the Henshaws', ' says Dan. 'They'll take after me, for Sam is vain of his car. We can haltthem in that narrow cut on the hill beyond the Byron River. '

"We had rounded the turn at Chesterville, when we saw the Henshawcar just ahead of us, with Aleck at the wheel an' Lizzie beside himan' Sam on the back seat. I saw the peril in the situation. 

"The long rivalry between the houses of Henshaw an' Pettigrew, reinforced by that of the young men, was nearing its climax. 

"'See me go by that old soap-box o' the Henshaws', ' says Dan, as hepulled out to pass 'em. 

"Then Dan an' Aleck began a duel with automobiles. Each had aforty-horse-power engine in his hands, with which he was resolvedto humble the other. Dan knew that he was goin' to bring down theprice o' Alecks an' Henshaws. First we got ahead; then theyscraped by us, crumpling our fender on the nigh side. Lizzie an' Ilost our hats in the scrimmage. We gathered speed an' ripped off asection o' their bulwarks, an' roared along neck an' neck with 'em. The broken fenders rattled like drums in a battle. A hen flew upan' hit me in the face, an' came nigh unhorsin' me. I hung on. Itseemed as if Fate was tryin' to halt us, but our horse-power wastoo high. A dog went under us. It began to rain a little. Wewere a length ahead at the turn by the Byron River. We swung forthe bridge an' skidded an' struck a telephone pole, an' I wentright on over the stone fence an' the clay bank an' lit on my headin the water. Dan Pettigrew lit beside me. Then came Lizzie an'Sam--they fairly rained into the river. I looked up to see ifAleck was comin', but he wasn't. Sam, bein' so heavy, had stoppedquicker an' hit in shallow water near the shore, but, as luck wouldhave it, the bottom was soft an' he had come down feet foremost, an' a broken leg an' some bad bruises were all he could boast of. Lizzie was in hysterics, but seemed to be unhurt. Dan an' I got'em out on the shore, an' left 'em cryin' side by side, an'scrambled up the bank to find Aleck. He had aimed too low an' hitthe wall, an' was stunned, an' apparently, for the time, dead as aherrin' on the farther side of it. I removed the tenone-thousand-dollar bills from his person to prevent complicationsan' tenderly laid him down. Then he came to very sudden. 

"'Stop!' he murmured. 'You're robbin' me. '

"'Well, you begun it, ' I says. 'Don't judge me hastily. I'm aphilanthropist. I'm goin' to leave you yer liberty an' a hundreddollars. You take it an' get. If you ever return to ConnecticutI'll arrest you at sight. '

"I gave him the money an' called the officer, who had just come up. A traveller in a large tourin'-car had halted near us. 

"'Put him into that car an' take him to Chesterville, ' I said. 

"He limped to the car an' left without a word. 

"I returned to my friends an' gently broke the news. 

"Sam blubbered 'Education done it, ' says he, as he mournfully shookhis head. 

"'Yes, ' I says. 'Education is responsible for a damned lot ofignorance. '

"'An' some foolishness, ' says Sam, as he scraped the mud out of hishair. 'Think of our goin' like that. We ought to have knownbetter. ' "'We knew better, ' I says, 'but we had to keep up withLizzie. '

"Sam turned toward Lizzie an' moaned in a broken voice, 'I wish ithad killed me. '

"'Why so?' I asked. 

"'It costs so much to live, ' Sam sobbed, in a half-hysterical way. 'I've got an expensive family on my hands. '

"'You needn't be afraid o' havin' Lizzie on your hands, ' says Dan, who held the girl in his arms. 

"'What do you mean?^ Sam inquired. 

"'She's on my hands an' she's goin' to stay there, ' says the youngman. 'I'm in love with Lizzie myself. I've always been in lovewith Lizzie. '

"'Your confession is ill-timed, ' says Lizzie, as she pulled awayan' tried to smooth her hair. She began to cry again, an' added, between sobs: 'My heart is about broken, and I must go home and gethelp for my poor father. '

"'I'll attend to that, ' says Dan; 'but I warn you that I'm goin' tooffer a Pettigrew for a Henshaw even. If I had a million dollarsI'd give it all to boot. '

"Sam turned toward me, his face red as a beet. 

"'The money!' he shouted. 'Get it, quick!'

"'Here it is!' I said, as I put the roll o' bills in his hand. 

"'Did you take it off him?'

"'I took it off him. '

"'Poor Aleck!' he says, mournfully, as he counted the money. 'It'skind o' hard on him. '

"Soon we halted a passin' automobile an' got Sam up the bank an'over the wall. It was like movin' a piano with somebody playin' onit, but we managed to seat him on the front floor o' the car, whichtook us all home. 

"So the affair ended without disgrace to any one, if not withoutviolence, and no one knows of the cablegram save the few personsdirectly concerned. But the price of Alecks took a big slump inPointview. No han'some foreign gent could marry any one in thisvillage, unless it was a chambermaid in a hotel. 

"That was the end of the first heat of the race with Lizzie inPointview. Aleck had folded up his bluff an' silently sneakedaway. I heard no more of him save from a lady with blond, curlyhair an' a face done in water-colors, who called at my office oneday to ask about him, an' who proved to my satisfaction that shewas his wife, an' who remarked with real, patrician accent when Itold her the truth about him: 'Ah, g'wan, yer kiddin' me. '

"I began to explore the mind of Lizzie, an' she acted as my guidein the matter. For her troubles the girl was about equallyindebted to her parents an' the Smythe school. Now the Smytheschool had been founded by the Reverend Hopkins Smythe, anEnglishman who for years had been pastor of the FirstCongregational Church--a soothin' man an' a favorite of the richNew-Yorkers. People who hadn't slept for weeks found repose in theFirst Congregational Church an' Sanitarium of Pointview. Theyslept an' snored while the Reverend Hopkins wept an' roared. Hisrhetoric was better than bromide or sulphonal. In gratefulrecollection of their slumbers, they set him up in business. 

"Now I'm agoin' to talk as mean as I feel. Sometimes I get tiredo' bein' a gentleman an' knock off for a season o' rest an'refreshment. Here goes! The school has some good girls in it, butmost of 'em are indolent candy-eaters. Their life is one long, sweet dream broken by nightmares of indigestion. Their study ismainly a bluff; their books a merry jest; their teachers a butt ofridicule. They're the veriest little pagans. Their religion is, in fact, a kind of Smythology. Its High Priest is the ReverendHopkins. Its Jupiter is self. Its lesser gods are princes, dukes, earls, counts, an' barons. Its angels are actors an' tenors. Itsbaptism is flattery. Poverty an' work are its twin hells. Matrimony is its heaven, an' a slippery place it is. They revel inthe best sellers an' the worst smellers. They gossip of intriguean' scandal. They get their lessons if they have time. They cheatin their examinations. If the teacher objects she is promptly an'generally insulted. She has to submit or go--for the girls standtogether. It's a sort of school-girls' union. They'd quit in abody if their fun were seriously interrupted, an' Mr. Smythecouldn't afford that, you know. He wouldn't admit it, but they'vegot him buffaloed. 

"Lizzie no sooner got through than she set out with her mother tofind the prince. She struck Aleck in Italy. "

Socrates leaned back and laughed. 

"Now, if you please, I'll climb back on my pedestal, " he said. 

"Thank God! Lizzie began to rise above her education. She went towork in her father's store, an' the whole gang o' Lizzie-chasershad to change their gait again. She organized our prosperous youngladies' club--a model of its kind--the purpose of which is thepromotion of simple livin' an' a taste for useful work. They havefairs in the churches, an' I distribute a hundred dollars in cashprizes--five dollars each for the best exhibits o' pumpkin-pie, chicken-pie, bread, rolls, coffee, roast turkey, plain an' fancysewin', an' so on. One by one the girls are takin' hold with usan' lettin' go o' the grand life. They've begun to take hold o'the broom an' the dish-cloth, an' the boys seem to be takin' holdo' them with more vigor an' determination. The boys are concludingthat it's cheaper to buy a piano-player than to marry one, thatcanned prima-donnas are better than the home-grown article, thatwomen are more to be desired than playthings. 

IV

IN WHICH THE HAM WAR HAS ITS BEGINNING

"One day in the old time a couple of industrious Yankees were hardat work in a field, " Socrates continued. "Suddenly one said to theother:

"'I wish I was worth ten thousand dollars. '

"An' the other asked:

"'What would ye do with it?'

"The wisher rested on his shovel an' gave his friend a look ofutter contempt. 

"'What would I do with it?' he said. 'Why, you cussed fool, I'dset down--an' without blamin' myself. '

"By-and-by the Yankee got to settin' down without blamin' himself, an' also without the ten thousand. Here in Pointview we'relearnin' how to stand up again, an' Lizzie is responsible. Youshall hear how it happened. 

"First I must tell you that Dan had been makin' little progress inthe wooin' o' Lizzie. Now she was inclined to go slow. Lizzie wasfond o' Dan. She put on her best clothes when he came to see herof a Sunday. She sang to him, she walked him about the place withher arm in his, but she tenderly refused to agree to marry him. When he grew sentimental she took him out among the cucumbers inthe garden. She permitted no sudden rise in his temperature. 

"'I will not marry, ' she said, 'until I have done what I can torepay my father for all that he has tried to do for me. I must beuneducated and re-educated. It may take a long time. Meanwhileyou may meet some one you like better. I'm not going to pledge youto wait for me. Of course I shall be awfully proud and pleased ifyou do wait, but, Dan, I want you to be free. Let's both be freeuntil we're ready. '

"It was bully. Dan pleaded with the eloquence of an old-fashionedlawyer. Lizzie stood firm behind this high fence, an' she wasright. With Dan in debt an' babies comin', what could she havedone for her father? Suddenly it seemed as if all the young menhad begun to take an interest in Lizzie, an', to tell the truth, she was about the neatest, sweetest little myrmidon of commercethat ever wore a white apron. The light of true womanhood hadbegun to shine in her face. She kept the store in apple-pie order, an' everybody was well treated. The business grew. Sam bought asmall farm outside the village with crops in, an' moved there forthe summer. Soon he began to let down his prices. The combine wasbroken. It was the thing we had been waitin' for. People flockedto his store. The others came down, but too late. Sam held hisgain, an' Lizzie was the power behind the fat. Dan finished hiscourse in agriculture an' I bought him a farm, an' he went to workthere, but he spent half his time in the store of his father tryin'to keep up with Lizzie. Suddenly Dan started a ham war. He cutthe price of hams five cents a pound. Ham was one of our greatstaples, an' excitement ran high. Lizzie cut below him two cents apound. Dan cut the price again. Lizzie made no effort to meetthis competition. The price had gone below the wholesale rate byquite a margin. People thronged to Dan's emporium. Women stood onthe battle-field, their necks blanched with powder, their cheeksbearin' the red badge o' courage, an' every man you met had a hamin his hand. The Pettigrew wagon hurried hither an' thither loadedwith hams. Even the best friends of Sam an' Lizzie were seen inDan's store buyin' hams. They laid in a stock for all winter. Suddenly Dan quit an' restored his price to the old figure. Lizziecontinued to sell at the same price, an' was just as cheerful asever. She had won the fight, an' ye wouldn't think that anythingunusual had happened; but wait an' see. 

"Every day boys an' girls were droppin' out o' the clouds an' goin'to work tryin' to keep up with Lizzie. The hammocks swung limp inthe breeze. The candy stores were almost deserted, an' those thatsat by the fountains were few. We were learnin' how to stand up. 

"One day Dan came into my office all out o' gear. He looked sorean' discouraged. I didn't wonder. 

"'What's the matter now?' I says. 

"'I don't believe Lizzie cares for me. '

"'How's that?' I says. 

"'Last Sunday she was out riding with Tom Bryson, an' every Sundayafternoon I find half-a-dozen young fellows up there. '

"'Well, ye know, Lizzie is attractive, an' she ain't our'n yit--notjust yit, ' I says. 'If young men come to see her she's got to bepolite to 'em. You wouldn't expect her to take a broom an' shoo'em off?'

"'But I don't have anything to do with other girls. '

"'An' you're jealous as a hornet, ' I says. 'Lizzie wants you tomeet other girls. When Lizzie marries it will be for life. She'llwant to know that you love her an' only her. You keep right ontryin' to catch up with Lizzie, an' don't be worried. '

"He stopped strappin' the razor of his discontent, but left me withunhappy looks. That very week I saw him ridin' about with MarieBenson in his father's motor-car. 

"Soon a beautiful thing happened. I have told you of themelancholy end of the cashier of one of our local banks. Well, intime his wife followed him to the cemetery. She was a distantrelative of Sam's wife, an' a friend of Lizzie. We found easyemployment for the older children, an' Lizzie induced her parentsto adopt two that were just out of their mother's arms--a girl ofone an' a boy of three years. I suggested to Lizzie that it seemedto me a serious undertaking, but she felt that she ought to beawfully good by way of atonement for the folly of her past life. It was near the end of the year, an' I happen to know that whenChristmas came a little sack containing five hundred dollars ingold was delivered at Sam Henshaw's door for Lizzie from a sourceunknown to her. That paid for the nurse, an' eased the situation. "

V

IN WHICH LIZZIE EXERTS AN INFLUENCE ON THE AFFAIRS OF THE RICH ANDGREAT

A year after Socrates Potter had told of the descent of Lizzie, andthe successful beginning of her new life, I called again at hisoffice. 

"How is Pointview?" I asked. 

"Did ye ever learn how it happened to be called Pointview?" heinquired. 

"No. "

"Well, it began with a little tavern with a tap-room called thePointview House, a great many years ago. Travellers used to stopan' look around for the Point, an', of course, they couldn't seeit, for there's none here; at least, no point of land. They'd goin an' order drinks an' say:

"'Landlord, where's the point?'

"An' the landlord would say: 'Well, boys, if you ain't in a hurryyou'll probably see it purty soon. '

"All at once it would appear to 'em, an' it was apt to be an'amusin' bit o' scenery. 

"We've always been quick to see a point here, an' anxious to showit to other people. "

He leaned back and laughed as one foot sought the top of his desk. 

"Our balloons rise from every walk o' life an' come down out o'ballast, " he went on. "Many of 'em touch ground in the greatfinancial aviation park that surrounds Wall Street. In our stagesof recovery the power of Lizzie has been widely felt. "

Up went his other foot. I saw that the historical mood was uponhim. 

"Talk about tryin' to cross the Atlantic in an air-ship--why, that's conservative, " he continued. "Right here in the easternpart o' Connecticut lives a man who set out for the vicinity of themoon with a large company--a joint-stock company--in his life-boat. First he made the journey with the hot-air-ship of his mind, an'came back with millions in the hold of his imagination. Then hethought he'd experiment with a corporation of his friends--hissurplus friends. They got in on the ground floor, an' got out inthe sky. Most of 'em were thrown over for ballast. The Wellman ofthis enterprise escaped with his life an' a little wreckage. Hewas Mr. Thomas Robinson Barrow, an' he came to consult me abouthis affairs. They were in bad shape. 

"'Sell your big house an' your motor-cars, ' I urged. 

"'That would have been easy, ' he answered, 'but Lizzie has spoiltthe market for luxuries. You remember how she got high notions upat the Smythe school, an' began a life of extravagance, an' how weall tried to keep up with her, an' how the rococo architecturebroke out like pimples on the face of Connecticut?'

"I smiled an' nodded. 

"'Well, it was you, I hear, that helped her back to earth andstarted her in the simpleton life. Since then she has been goingjust as fast, but in the opposite direction, and we're still tryin'to keep up with her. Now I found a man who was going to buy myproperty, but suddenly his wife decided that they would get alongwith a more modest outfit. She's trying to keep up with Lizzie. Folks are getting wise. '

"'Why don't you?'

"'Can't. '

"'Why not?'

"'Because I'm a born fool. We're fettered; we're prisoners ofluxury. '

"Only a night or two before I had seen his wife at a reception witha rope of pearls in her riggin' an' a search-light o' diamonds onher forward deck an' a tiara-boom-de-ay at her masthead an' theflags of opulence flyin' fore an' aft. 

"'If I were you, ' I said, 'I'd sell everything--even the jewels. '

"'My poor wife!' he exclaimed. 'I haven't the heart to tell herall. She don't know how hard up we are!'

"'I wouldn't neglect her education if I were you, ' I said. 'There's a kindness, you know, that's most unkind. Some day Ishall write an article on the use an' abuse of tiaras--poor things!It isn't fair to overwork the family tiara. I suggest that you geta good-sized trunk an' lock it up with the other jewels for avacation. If necessary your house could be visited by aburglar--that is, if you wanted to save the feelin's of your wife. '

"He turned with a puzzled look at me. 

"'Is it possible that you haven't heard of that trick?' I asked--'aman of your talents!'

"He shook his head. 

"'Why, these days, if a man wishes to divorce the family jewels an'is afraid of his wife, the house is always entered by a burglar. My dear sir, the burglar is an ever-present help in time oftrouble. It's a pity that we have no Gentleman's Home Journal inwhich poor but deservin' husbands could find encouragement an'inspiration. '

"He looked at me an' laughed. 

"'Suppose you engage a trusty and reliable burglar?' he proposed. 

"'There's only one in the world. ' I said. 

"'Who is it?'

"'Thomas Robinson Barrow. Of course, I'm not sayin' that if Ineeded a burglar he's just the man I should choose, but for thisjob he's the only reliable burglar. Try him. '

"He seemed to be highly amused. 

"'But it might be difficult to fool the police, ' he said, in aminute. 

"'Well, it isn't absolutely necessary, you know, ' I suggested. 'The Chief of Police is a friend of mine. '

"'Good! I'm engaged for this job, and will sell the jewels andturn the money over to you. '

"'I do not advise that--not just that, ' I said. 'We'll retire themfrom active life. A tiara in the safe is worth two in the Titianbush. We'll use them for collateral an' go to doin' business. When we've paid the debts in full we'll redeem the goods an' returnthem to your overjoyed wife. We'll launch our tiara on the Marcelwaves. '

"Tom was delighted with this plan--not the best, perhaps--but, anyhow, it would save his wife from reproach, an' I don't know whatwould have happened if she had continued to dazzle an' enrage hiscreditors with the pearls an' the tiara. 

"'It will not be so easy to sell the house, ' Tom went on. 'That'sour worst millstone. It was built for large hospitality, and wehave a good many friends, and they come every week and jump on tothe millstone. '

"'If one has to have a millstone he should choose it withdiscretion, ' I said. 'It doesn't pay to get one that is tooinviting. You'll have to swim around with yours for a while, andwatch your chance to slip it on to some other fellow's neck. Youdon't want your son to be a millstonaire. Some day a man ofmillions may find it a comfortable fit, an' relieve you. They'rebuyin' places all about here. '

"Tom left an' began work on our programme. The burglary was wellexecuted an' advertised. It achieved a fair amount ofpublicity--not too much, you know, but enough. The place wasphotographed by the reporters with the placard 'For Sale' showin'plainly on the front lawn. The advertisin' was worth almost asmuch as the diamonds. Tom said that his wife had lost weight sincethe sad event. 

"'Of course, ' I said. 'You can't take ten pounds of jewelry from awoman without reducin' her weight. She must have had a pint o'diamonds. '

"'Pictures an' glowin' accounts of the villa were printed in allthe papers, an' soon a millionaire wrote that it was just the placehe was lookin' for. I closed the deal with him. It was BillWarburton, who used to go to school with me up there on the hills. He had long been dreamin' of a home in Pointview. 

"They used to say that Bill was a fool, but he proved an alibi. Went West years ago an' made a fortune, an' thought it would benice to come back an' finish his life where it began, near thegreatest American city. I drew the papers, an' Bill an' I gottogether often an' talked of the old happy days, now glimmering inthe far past--some thirty-five years away, [Illustration: Bill an' I got together often an' talked of the oldhappy days. ]

"Well, they enlarged the house--that was already big enough for ahotel--an' built stables an' kennels an' pheasant yards an' housesfor ducks an' geese an' peacocks. They stocked up with fourteenhorses, twelve hounds, nine collies, four setters, nineteenservants, innumerable fowls, an' four motor-cars, an' started inpursuit o' happiness. 

"You see, they had no children, an' all these beasts an' birds wereintended to supply the deficiency in human life, an' assist in thecampaign. Well, somehow, it didn't succeed, an' one day Bill cameinto my office with a worried look. He confided to me thewell-known fact that his wife was nervous and unhappy. 

"'The doctors don't do her any good, an' I thought I'd try alawyer, ' said he. 

"'Do you want to sue Fate for damages or indict her for maliciouspersecution?' I asked. 

"'Neither, ' he said, 'but you know the laws of nature as well asthe laws of men. I appeal to you to tell me what law my wife hasbroken, and how she can make amends. '

"'You surprise me, ' I said. 'You an' the madame can haveeverything you want, an' still you're unhappy. '

"'What can we have that you can't? You can eat as much, an' sleepbetter, an' wear as many clothes, an' see an' hear as well as wecan. '

"'Ah, but in the matter of quality I'm way behind the flag, Bill. You can wear cloth o' gold, an Russian sables, an' have champagnean' terrapin every meal, an' fiddlers to play while ye eat it, an'a brass band to march around the place with ye, an' splendid horsesto ride, an' dogs to roar on ahead an' attract the attention of thepopulace. You can have a lot of bankrupt noblemen to rub an'manicure an' adulate an' chiropodize ye, an' people who'd have tolaugh at your wit or look for another job, an' authors to read fromtheir own works--'

"Bill interrupted with a gentle protest: 'Soc, how comforting youare!'

"'Well, if all that is losin' its charm, what's the matter withtravel?'

"'Don't talk to me about travel, ' said Bill. 'We've worn ruts inthe earth now. Our feet have touched every land. '

"'How many meals do you eat a day?'

"'Three. '

"'Try six, ' I suggested. 

"He laughed, an' I thought I was makin' progress, so I kept on. 

"'How many motor-cars have ye ?'

"'Four. '

"'Get eight, ' I advised, as Bill put on the loud pedal. 'You'vegot nineteen servants, I believe, try thirty-eight. Youhave--twenty-one dogs--get forty-two. You can afford it. '

"'Come, be serious, ' said Bill. 'Don't poke fun at me. '

"'Ah! but your wife must be able to prove that she has more dogsan' horses an' servants an' motor-cars, an' that she eats moremeals in a day than any other woman in Connecticut. Then, maybe, she'll be happy. You know it's a woman's ambition to excel. '

"'We have too many fool things now, ' said Bill, mournfully. 'She'shad enough of them--God knows!'

"Something in Bill's manner made me sit up and stare at him. 

"'Of course, you don't mean that she wants another husband!' Iexclaimed. 

"'I'm not so sure of that, ' said Bill, sadly. 'Sometimes I'malmost inclined to think she does. '

"'Well, that's one direction in which I should advise stricteconomy, ' said I. 'You can multiply the dogs an' the horses, an'the servants an' the motor-cars, but in the matter o' wives an'husbands we ought to stick to the simple life. Don't let her go tocompeting with those Fifth Avenue ladies. '

"'I don't know what's the matter, ' Bill went on. 'She's hadeverything that her heart could wish. But, of course, she has hadonly one husband, and most of her friends have had two or three. They've outmarried her. It may be that, secretly, she's just alittle annoyed about that. Many of her old friends are consumedwith envy; their bones are rotten with it. They smile upon her;they accept her hospitality; they declare their love, and they longfor her downfall. Now, my wife has a certain pride and joy in allthis, but, naturally, it breeds a sense of loneliness--the bitterloneliness that one may find only in a crowd. She turns more andmore to me, and, between ourselves, she seems to have made up hermind that I don't love her, and I can't convince her that I do. '

"'Well, Bill, I should guess that you have always been fond of yourwife--and--true to her. '

"'And you are right, ' said Bill. 'I've loved with all my heart andwith a conscience. It's my only pride, for, of course, I mighthave been gay. In society I enjoy a reputation for firmness. Itis no idle boast. '

"'Well, Bill, you can't do anything more for her in the matter offood, raiment, beasts, or birds, an' as to jewelry she carries apretty heavy stock. I often feel the need of smoked glasses when Ilook at her. You'll have to make up your mind as to whether sheneeds more or less. I'll study the situation myself. It may bethat I can suggest something by-and-by--just as a matter offriendship. '

"'Your common sense may discern what is needed, ' said Bill. 'Iwish you'd come at least once a week to dinner. My wife would bedelighted, to have you, Soc. You are one of the few men whointerest her. '

"She was a pretty woman, distinguished for a look of weariness anda mortal fear of fat. She had done nothing so hard an' so long, that, to her, nothing was all there was in the world--save fat. She was so busy about it that she couldn't sit still an' rest. Shewandered from one chair to another, smokin' a cigarette, an' nowand then glancin' at her image in a mirror an' slyly feelin' herribs to see if she had gained flesh that day. She liked me becauseI was unlike any other man she had met. I poked fun at her follyan' all the grandeur of the place. I amused her as much as sheamused me, perhaps. Anyhow, we got to be good friends, an' thenext Sunday we all drove out in a motor-car to see Lizzie. Mrs. Bill wanted to meet her. Lizzie had become famous. She waswalkin' up an' down the lawn with the infant in a perambulator, an'the small boy toddling along behind her. We left Mrs. Bill withLizzie an' the kids, an' set out for a tramp over the big farm. When we returned we found the ladies talkin' earnestly in the house. 

[Illustration: We set out for a tramp over the big farm. ]

"Before we left I called Lizzie aside for a minute. 

"'How do you get along with these babies?' I asked. 

"'They're the life of our home. My father and mother think theycouldn't live without them. '

"'An' they're good practice for you, ' I suggested. 'It's time youwere plannin' for yourself, Lizzie. '

"'I've no prospects, ' said she. 

"'How is that?'

"'Why, there's only one boy that I care for, an' he has had enoughof me. '

"'You don't mean Dan?'

"'Yes, ' she whispered with trembling lips, an' turned away. 

"'What's the matter?'

"She pulled herself together an' answered in half a moment: 'Oh, Idon't know! He doesn't come often. He goes around with othergirls. '

"'Well, ' I said, 'it's the same ol' story. He's only tryin' tokeep up with Lizzie. You've done some goin' around yourself. '

"'I know, but I couldn't help it. '

"'He knows, an' he couldn't help it, ' I says. 'The boys haveflocked around you, an' the girls have flocked around Dan. Theywere afraid he'd get lonesome. If I were you I'd put a mortgage onhim an' foreclose it as soon as possible. '

"'It's too late, ' says she. 'I hear he's mortgaged. '

"'You'd better search the records, ' I says, 'an' if it ain't so, stop bein' careless. You've put yer father on his feet. Now lookout for yerself. '

"'I think he's angry on account of the ham war, ' says she. 

"'Why do you think that?'

"She told me the facts, an' I laughed 'til the tears came to myeyes. 

"'Nonsense, ' I says, 'Dan will like that. You wait 'til I tellhim, an' he'll be up here with his throttle wide open. '

"'Do you suppose he'd spend Christmas with us?' she asked, with avery sober look. 'You know, his mother an' father have gone South, an' he'll be all alone. '

"'Ask him at once--call him on the 'phone, ' I advised, an' bade hergood-bye. 

"The happiness o' Lizzie an' the charm o' those kids had suggestedan idea. I made up my mind that I'd try to put Mr. An' Mrs. Billon the job o' keepin' up with Lizzie. 

"'That's a wonderful woman, ' said Mrs. Bill, as we drove away. 'Ienvy her--she's so strong and well and happy. She loves thosebabies, and is in the saddle every afternoon, helping with the worko' the farm. '

"'Why don't you get into the saddle and be as well and strong asshe is?' Bill asked. 

"'Because I've no object--it's only a way of doing nothing, ' saidMrs. Bill. 'I'm weary of riding for exercise. There never was ahuman being who could keep it up long. It's like you and yourdumb-bells. To my knowledge you haven't set a foot in yourgymnasium for a month. As a matter of fact, you're as tired ofplay as I am, every bit. Why don't you go into Wall Street an' getpoor?'

"'Tired of play!' Bill exclaimed. 'Why, Grace, night before lastyou were playing bridge until three o'clock in the morning. '

"'Well, it's a way of doing nothing skilfully and on thecompetitive plan, ' said she. 'It gives me a chance to measure mycapacity. When I get through I am so weary that often I can go tosleep without thinking. It seems to me that brains are a greatnuisance to one who has no need of them. Of course, by-and-by, they'll atrophy and disappear like the tails of our ancestors. Meanwhile, I suppose they are bound to get sore. Mine is such afierce, ill-bred, impudent sort of a brain, and it's as busy as abat in a belfry. I often wish that I had one of those soft, flexible, paralytic, cocker-spaniel brains, like that of our friendMrs. Seavey. She is so happy with it--so unterrified. She isequally at home in bed or on horseback, reading the last bestseller or pouring tea and compliments. Now just hear how thisbrain of mine is going on about that poor, inoffensive creature!But that's the way it treats me. It's a perfect heathen of abrain. '

"Bill an' I looked at each other an' laughed. Her talk convincedme of one thing--that her trouble was not the lack of a brain. 

"'You're always making fun of me, ' she said. 'Why don't you giveme something to do?'

"'Suppose you wash the dishes?' said Bill. 

"'Would it please you?'

"'Anything that pleases you pleases me. '

"'I saw that she, too, was goin' to try to keep up with Lizzie, an'I decided that I'd help her. When we arrived at the villa we madeour way to its front door through a pack of collie dogs out for anairing. 

"'By-the-way, ' I said, when we sat down to luncheon at Bill'shouse, 'congratulate me. I'm a candidate for new honors. '

[Illustration: I'm a candidate for new honors. ]

"'Those of a husband? I've been hoping for that--you stubborn oldbachelor. ' said Mrs. Bill, expectantly. 

"'No, ' I answered, 'I'm to be a father. '

"Bill put down his fork an' turned an' stared at me. Mrs. Billleaned back in her chair with a red look of surprise. 

"'The gladdest, happiest papa in Connecticut, ' I added. 

"Mrs. Bill covered her face with her napkin an' began to shake. 

"'S-Soc. , have you fallen?' Bill stammered. 

"'No, I've riz, ' I said. 'Don't blame me, ol' man, I had to do it. I've adopted some orphans. I'm goin' to have an orphanage on thehill; but it will take a year to finish it. I'm goin' to have fivechildren. They're beauties, an' I know that I'm goin' to lovethem. I propose to take them out of the atmosphere of indigencean' wholesale charity. They'll have a normal, pleasant home, an' ahired mother an' me to look after them--the personal touch, youknow. I expect to have a lot of fun with them. '

"'But what a responsibility!' said Mrs. Bill. 

"'I know, but I feel the need of it. Of course it's different withyou--very different--you have all these dogs an' horses to beresponsible for an' to give you amusement. I couldn't afford that. Then, too, I'm a little odd, I guess. I can get more fun out ofone happy, human soul than out of all the dogs an' horses increation. '

"'But children! Why, they're so subject to sickness and accidentand death, ' said Mrs. Bill. 

"'An' they're subject, also, to health an' life an' safety, ' Ianswered. 

"'Yes, but you know--they'll be getting into all kinds of trouble. They'll worry you. '

"'True; but as for worry, I don't mind that much, ' I said. 'Mybest days were those that were full of worry. Now, that I've won acompetence an' my worries are gone, so is half my happiness. Youcan't have sunshine without shadows. There was one of my neighborswho was troubled with "boils. " He had to have 'em cured rightaway, an' a doctor gave him some medicine that healed 'em up, buthe was worse off than ever. The boils began to do business insideof him, an' he rushed back to the doctor. 

"'What's the matter now?" said the medical man. 

"'"Outside I'm sound as a dollar, " said my neighbor, "but it seemsas if all hell had moved into me. "

"'Now, cares are like boils: it don't do to get rid of 'em tooquick. They're often a great relief to the inside of a man, an'it's better to have 'em on the surface than way down in yourmarrow. '

"Bill an' his wife looked into each other's eyes for half a minute, but neither spoke. 

"'I'm goin' to ask a favor of you, ' I said. 'I see that there'snobody livin' in the old farm-house out back of the garden. I wishyou'd let me put my little family into it until I can build a homefor 'em. '

"'Oh, my!' Mrs. Bill exclaimed. 'Those children would be runningall over the lawns and the garden. They'd destroy my roses. '

"'True; but, after all, they're more beautiful than the roses, ' Iurged. 'They're more graceful in form, more charming in color. Then, too, roses cannot laugh or weep or play. Roses cannot lookup at you out of eyes full of the light of heaven an' brighter thanyour jewels. Roses may delight, but they cannot love you or knowthat you love them. Dear woman, my roses will wander over thelawns. Their colors will be flickering about you, and the music oftheir voices will surround the villa some days; but, God knows, they'll look better, far better than the dogs or the bronze lions, or the roses. I shall dress them well. '

"'I think he's right, ' said Bill. 

"'He's most disturbing and persuasive anyway--the revolutionist!'said Mrs. Bill. 'If it's really a favor to you, Mr. Potter, Ishall agree to it. But you must have a trusty woman. I reallycannot assume any responsibility. '

"'I thanked her and promised to assume all responsibility, and Mrs. Warburton was to get the old house ready at once. 

"Three days later I drove to the villa with my matron and thebabies. Rather quick work, wasn't it? I hadn't let any grass growunder my plan. When we lit at the front door every youngster brokeout in a loud hurrah of merriment. The three-year-oldboy--beautiful beyond all words--got aboard one of the crouchedlions and began to shout. A little girl made a grab at themorning-glories on a Doric column, while her sister had mounted aswinging seat an' tumbled to the floor. The other two werechattering like parrots. Honestly, I was scared. I was afraidthat Mrs. Bill would come down and jump into hysterics. I snakedthe boy off the lion's back and rapped on him for order. Thematron got busy with the others. In a jiffy it seemed as if theyhad all begun to wail an' roar. I trembled when a maid opened thedoor an' I saw Mrs. Bill comin' down the staircase. I wouldn'thave been surprised to have seen the bronze lion get up an' run. 

[Illustration: Three days later I drove to the villa. ]

"'The saints defend us!' exclaimed Mrs. Bill, in the midst of theuproar. 

"'They're not at their best, ' I shouted, 'but here they are. '

"'Yes, I knew they were there, ' said Mrs. Bill. 'This is the musicof which you were speaking the other day. Take them right aroundto the old house, if you please. I'm sorry, but I must ask you toexcuse me this morning. '

"I succeeded in quellin' the tumult, and introduced the matron, whoreceived a nod an' a look that made a dent in her, an' away we wentaround the great house, a melancholy, shuffling troop, now silentas the grave. It looked dark for my little battalion with which Ihad been hoping to conquer this world within the villa gates. Theywere of the great army of the friendless. 

"I asked Mrs. Hammond, the matron, to see that they did as littledamage as possible, and left them surrounded by every comfort. 

"They had a telephone and unlimited credit at the stores, an' Mrs. Hammond was a motherly soul of much experience with children, an' Iknew that I could trust her. 

"I was to dine with the Warburtons later in the week, an' before Ientered the big house that evening I went around to the lodge. Thechildren were all well an' asleep in their beds, an' the matronapparently happy an' contented. She said that Mrs. Bill had metthem in the grounds that day, an' she told how the littlethree-year-old boy had exerted his charms upon my lady Warburton, who had spent half an hour leading him through the gardens. 

[Illustration: The boy had exerted his charms upon my ladyWarburton. ]

"How beautiful he was lying asleep in his bed that evening!--hisface like the old dreams of Eros, with silken, yellow, curly lockson his brow, an' long dark lashes, soft as the silk of the growingcorn, an' a red mouth, so wonderfully curved, so appealing in itssilence. Beneath it were teeth like carved ivory. Those baby lipsseemed to speak to me and to say: 'O man that was born of a woman, and like me was helpless, give me your love or look not upon me!'

"But I could not help looking, an" as I looked he smiled in whatdreams--of things past or to come--I wish it were in me to tellyou. Something touched me--like a strong hand. I went out underthe trees in the darkness an' stood still an' wondered what hadhappened to me. Great Scott!--me! Socrates Potter, lawyer, statesman, horse-trader!

"'With that little captain I could take a city, ' I whispered, an' Igot up an' brushed myself off, as it were, an' walked around to thefront door of the great house. 

"Therein I was to witness an amusing comedy. The butler wore a newsort of grin as he took my wraps at the door. There were guests, mostly from New York an' Greenwich. We had taken our seats at thetable when, to my surprise, Mrs. Bill, in a grand costume, with atiara on her head, an' a collar of diamonds on her neck, began toserve the caviar. 

"'Ladies and gentlemen, ' said she, 'this is to convince Mr. Socrates Potter that I can do useful work. I'm dieting, anyhow, and I can't eat. '

"'My friend, I observe that you are serving us, and we are proud, but you do not appear to be serving a purpose, ' I said. 

"'Now, don't spoil it all with your relentless logic, ' she began. 'You see, I am going to take a hand in this keeping-up-with-Lizziebusiness. One of our ladies had to give up a dinner-party theother day, because her butlers had left suddenly. '

"'"Why didn't you and a maid serve the dinner yourselves?" I said. 

"'"Impossible!" was her proud answer. 

"'"It would have been a fine lark. I would have done it, " I said. 

"'"I'd like to see you, " she laughed. 

"'"You shall, " I answered, and here I am. '

"Now, there were certain smiles which led me to suspect that it wasa blow aimed at one of the ladies who sat at the table with us, butof that I am not sure. 

"'I'm also getting my hand in, ' our hostess went on. 'Bill and Iare going to try the simple life. Tomorrow we move into thelog-cabin, where we shall do our own work, and send the servantsoff for a week's holiday. I'm going to do the cooking--I've beenlearning how--and I shall make the beds, and Bill is to chop thewood, and help wash the dishes, and we shall sleep out-of-doors. It will, I hope, be a lesson to some of these proud people aroundus who are living beyond their means. That's good, isn't it?'

"'Excellent!' I exclaimed, as the others laughed. 

"'Incidentally, it will help me to reduce, ' she added. 

"'An' it promises to reduce Bill, ' I said. 'It will kill Bill, Ifear, but it will pay. You might change your plan a little--Just alittle--an' save poor Bill. Think of eating biscuit an' flapjacksfrom the hand of a social leader! Between the millstones of dutyand indigestion he will be sadly ground, but with the axe he may, if he will, defend his constitution. '

"'Well, what's a constitution between husband and wife?' she asked. "'Nothin'. ' I says. 'Bear in mind I wouldn't discourage you. Withthe aid of the axe his ancestors were able to withstand theassaults of pork an' beans an' pie. If he uses it freely, he issafe. '

"'You see, I shall have him in a position where he must work ordie, ' said Mrs. Bill. 

"'He'll die, ' said a guest. 

"'I call it a worthy enterprise whatever the expense, ' I said. 'Itwill set a fashion here an' a very good one. In this communitythere are so many dear ladies who are prisoners of gravitation. They rely almost exclusively on hired hands an' feet, an' arelosin' the use o' their own. What confusion will spread among themwhen they learn that Mrs. William Henry Warburton, the richestwoman in Fairfield County, and the daughter of a bishop, has beendoin' her own work! What consternation! What dismay! What femaleprofanity! What a revision of habits an' resolutions! Why, there's been nothin' like it since the descent of Lizzie. '

"'I think it's terrible, ' said a fat lady from Louisville, distinguished for her appetite, an' often surreptitiously referredto as 'The Mammoth Cave of Kentucky. ' 'The idea of trying to makeit fashionable to endure drudgery! I think we women have all wecan do now. '

"'To be respectable, ' said Mrs. Bill; 'but let's try to dosomething else. '

"'Why don't you form a Ladies' Protective Union, ' Bill suggested, 'an' choose the tiara for a symbol, an' strike for no hours a dayan' all your husbands can earn?'

"'And the employment of skilled idlers only, ' Mrs. Bill put in. 'They must all know how to do nothing in the modern way--bydiscussing the rights of women and the novel of lust, and thedivorces past and prospective, by playing at bridge andbenevolence. How absurd it all is! I'm not going to be anovergrown child any longer. '

"I saw that Mrs. Bill was makin' progress, an' with her assistanceI began to hope for better things in that neighborhood. 

"You've got to reach the women somehow, you see, before you canimprove the social conditions of a community. I love them, butmany are overgrown children, as Mrs. Bill had put it, an' doin'nothing with singular skill an' determination an' often withappalling energy. 

"Our pretty hostess had been helping a butler, as this talk wenton, an' presently one of the other ladies joined her, an' never wasany company so picturesquely an' amusingly served. 

"'I've quite fallen in love with that three-year-old boy, ' saidMrs. Bill, as we rose from the table. 'I had a good romp with himto-day. '

"'I wish you'd go over to the old farm-house with me; I want toshow you something, ' I said. 

"In a moment we were in wraps an' making our way across the lawn. 

"'I was glad to get a rap at that Mrs. Barrow, ' she whispered, aswe walked along. 'She's just got back her jewels that were stolen, and has begun to go out again. She's the vainest, proudest fool ofa woman, and her husband is always borrowing money. Did you knowit?'

"'Some--that is, fairly well, ' I said, with bitterness. 

"'So does Bill, and she goes about with the airs of a grand ladyand the silliest notions. Really, it was for her benefit that Ihelped the butler. '

"'If it weren't for Bill I'd call you an angel, ' I said. 'You haveit in your power to redeem the skilled idlers of this community. '

"We reached the little house so unlike the big, baronial thing wehad left. It was a home. Mrs. Hammond sat by the reading-lamp inits cozy sitting-room before an open fire. She led us into thebedroom with the lamp in her hand. There lay the boy as I had lefthim, still smiling with a lovelier, softer red in his cheeks thanthat of roses. 

[Illustration: She led us into the bedroom. ]

"'See the color and the dimples, ' I said. 

"She looked from one to another, an' suddenly the strong appeal oftheir faces fell upon her. She raised the boy from his bed, an' heput his arms around her neck an' began to talk in a tender babytreble. 

"Did you ever hear the voice of a child just out of dreamland, whenit expresses, not complaint, but love an' contentment? Well, sir, it is the sweetest, the most compelling note in all nature, Ibelieve. It is like a muted violin--voice of God or voice ofman--which is it? I dare not say, but I do know that the song ofthe hermit-thrush is but sounding brass compared with that. 

"I felt its power, an' I said to myself: 'I will waste my life nolonger. I will marry. '

"She, too, had felt it. The little captain had almost overcomeher. She laid him down, an' we turned away. 

"We walked through the garden paths, an' neither spoke, but in thestillness I could hear trumpets of victory. We entered the greathall an' sat with the others by its fireside, but took little partin the talk. When I made my adieus she shook my hand warmly andsaid I was very good to them. 

"Save for its good example, the log-cabin experiment was not asuccess. They slept with all the doors and windows open, an' onenight a skunk came in an' got under the bed. Mrs. Bill discoveredthat they had company, an' Bill got up an' lit the lantern, an'followed the clew to its source. He threatened an' argued an'appealed to the skunk's better nature with a doughnut, but thelittle beast sat unmoved in his corner. The place seemed to suithim. 

"Bill got mad an' flung the axe at him. It was a fatal move--fatalto the skunk an' the cabin an' the experiment, an' a blow to thesweetness an' sociological condition of Connecticut. 

"They returned to the big house, an' by-an'-by told me of theiradventure. 

"'Don't be discouraged, ' I said. 'You will find skunks in everywalk of life, but when you do, always throw down your cards an'quit the game. They can deal from the bottom of the pack. Youhaven't a ghost of a show with 'em. '

"Being driven out of the cabin, Mrs. Bill gave most of her leisureto the farm-house, where I had spent an hour or more every day. 

"Suddenly I saw that a wonderful thing had happened to me. I wasin love with those kids, an' they with me. The whole enterprisehad been a bluff conceived in the interest of the Warburtons. Ihadn't really intended to build a house, but suddenly I got busywith all the mechanics I could hire in Pointview, and the housebegan to grow like a mushroom. 

"Another wonderful thing happened. Mrs. Warburton fell in lovewith the kids, and they with her. She romped with them on thelawn; she took them out to ride every day; she put them to bedevery night; she insisted upon buying their clothes; she boughtthem a pony an' a little omnibus; she built them a playhouse fortheir comfort. The whole villa began to revolve around thechildren. They called her mama an' they called me papa, asufficiently singular situation. 

VI

IN WHICH THE PURSUIT OF LIZZIE BECOMES HIGHLY SERIOUS

Dan had been out of town, an' immediately on his return he came tomy office. 

"'How's business?' I asked. 

"'Well, the ham war was a little hard on us, but we're picking up, 'says he. 'They're still selling hams way below a decent price overat Henshaw's. I don't see how they can do it. '

"'I do, ' I says. 

"'Please explain, " says Dan. 

"'Don't you know that Lizzie was buyin' most o' those hams that yousold way below the wholesale price, an' that she's now makin' agood profit on 'em?' I says. 

"'Great Scott!' Dan exclaimed, as he sank in a chair. 

"'The fact is, Dan, the only way to keep up with that girl is tomarry her, ' says I. 'Get busy. If you don't somebody else will. Put a mortgage on her an' foreclose it as soon as possible. As afloatin' asset Lizzie is dangerous. '

"Dan picked up his hat an' started for the door. 

"'Tell her she must do business or you'll cut the price ofPettigrews, ' I suggested. 

"'Good idea!' he answered, as he went away. 

"Meanwhile Mr. An' Mrs. Bill Warburton were hot on the trail ofLizzie. 

"Bill came to me one day an' said: 'Those babies have solved theproblem; my wife is happy and in excellent health. She sleeps an'eats as well as ever, an' her face has a new look--you haveobserved it?'

"'Certainly, Bill, an' you're goin' to hear some rather chesty an'superior talk. I saw what was the matter long ago--she wasmotor-sick, an' tiara-sick, an' dog-sick, an' horse-sick. She wassick of idleness an' rich food an' adulation. She has discoveredthat there are only three real luxuries--work, children, motherhood--that to shirk responsibility is to forfeit happiness. I have been a little disappointed in you, Bill. Your father was aminister; he had the love of men in his soul. You seem to havetaken to dogs an' horses with an affection almost brotherly. Idon't blame you so much. When men get rich they naturally achievea passion for the things that money will buy. They think they'vegot to improve the breed o' dogs an' horses, an' they're apt toforget the breed o' men. You've been pursuin' Happiness with dogs, horses, an' motor-cars. You never can catch her in thatway--never. Don't you remember, Bill, that in the old days wedidn't pursue Happiness? Why, Happiness pursued us an' generallycaught us. Some days she didn't succeed until we were all tiredout, an' then she led us away into the wonderful land o' dreams, an' it was like heaven. You never get Happiness by pursuin'_her_--that's one dead sure thing. Happiness is never captured. She comes unbidden or not at all. She travels only in one path, an' you haven't found it. Bill, we've strayed a little. Let's tryto locate the trail o' Happiness. I believe we're gettin' near it. 

"'Last year a colt of yours won a classic event of the turf. Howmuch finer it would be if you had some boys in training for thesublime contests of life, an' it wouldn't cost half so much. Youknow, there are plenty of homeless boys who need your help. Wouldn't it pay better to develop a Henry M. Stanley--once ahomeless orphan--than a Salvator or an Ormonde or a Rayon d'Or?'

"'Pound away, ' said Bill. 'Nail an' rivet me to the cross. Ihaven't a word to say, except this: What in the devil do ye want meto do?'

"'Well, ye might help to redeem New England, ' I said. 'The Yankeeblood is runnin' out, an' it's a pity. To-day the Yankees arealmost a childless race. Do ye know the reason?'

"He shook his head. 

"'It costs so much to live, ' I says. 'We can't afford children. To begin with, the boys an' girls don't marry so young. They can'tstand the expense. They're all keepin' up with Lizzie, but on thewrong road. The girls are worse than the boys. They go out o' theprivate school an' beat the bush for a husband. At first theyhope to drive out a duke or an earl; by-an'-by they're willin' totake a common millionaire; at last they conclude that if they can'tget a stag they'll take a rabbit. Then we learn that they'reengaged to a young man, an' are goin' to marry as soon as he canafford it. He wears himself out in the struggle, an' is apt to bea nervous wreck before the day arrives. They are nearin' or pastthirty when he decides that with economy an' _no children_ they canafford to maintain a home. The bells ring, the lovely strains from"Lohengrin" fill the grand, new house o' God, an' overflow into thequiet streets o' the village, an' we hear in them what Wagner neverthought of--_the joyful death-march of a race_. Think of it, Bill, this old earth is growin' too costly for the use o' man. We preferautos an' diamonds an' knick-knacks! Life has become a kind of acircus where only the favored can pay the price of admission, an'here in America, where about all the great men we have had werebred in cabins, an' everything worth a fish-hook came out o'poverty! You have it in your power to hasten the end o' thiswickedness, ' I said. 'For one thing, you can make the middlemanlet go of our throats in this community. Near here are hundreds ofacres o' land goin' to waste. Buy it an' make it produce--wool, meat, flax, grains, an' vegetables. Start a market an' a smallfactory here, an' satisfy yourself as to what is a just price forthe necessaries of life. If the tradesmen are overchargin' us, they'll have to reduce prices. Put your brain an' money into it;make it a business. At least, you'll demonstrate what it ought tocost to live here in New England. If it's so much that the averageYankee can't afford it by honest work--if we must all be lawyers orbankers or brokers or graspin' middle-men in order to live--let'sstart a big Asylum for the Upright, an' give 'em a chance to diecomfortably. But it isn't so. I can raise potatoes right here forthirty cents a bushel, as good as those you pay forty cents a peckfor at Sam Henshaw's. You'll set an example of inestimable valuein this republic of ours. Dan has begun the good work, an'demonstrated that it will pay. '

"'It's a good idea--I'm with you, ' he said. 'If we can get theboys an' girls to marry while the bloom is on the rye, it's worthwhile, an' I wouldn't wonder if indirectly we'd increase the cropof Yankees an' the yield of happiness to the acre. '

"'Bill, you're a good fellow, ' I said. 'You only need to bereminded of your duty--you're like many another man. '

"'And I'll think you the best fellow in the world if you'll let uskeep those kids. We enjoy them. We've been having a lot of funlately. '

"'I can't do that, ' I said, 'but I'll keep 'em here until we canget some more. There are thousands of them as beautiful, asfriendless, as promising as these were. '

"'I wish you could let us have these, ' he urged. 'We wouldn'tadopt them, probably, but we'd do our best for them--our very best. '

"'I can't, ' I answered. 

"'Why?'

"'Because they've got hold of my old heart--that's why. I hadn'tlooked for that, Bill, but the little cusses have conquered _me_. '

"'Great God!' he exclaimed. 'I hadn't thought of that. And mywife told me this morning that she loves that three-year-old boy asdearly as she loves me. They've all won her heart. What shall Ido?'

"'Let me think it over, ' I said, an' shook his hand an' left, an' Iknew that I was likely to indulge in the makin' of history rightaway. 

"I went home an' sat down an' wrote the best brief of my career--anappeal to the Supreme Court o' this planet--a woman's heart. Itwas a letter to one whose name I honored although I had not writtenit in years. 

"Next mornin' I plunged into a lawsuit an' was workin' night an'day, until the jury came in with a verdict an' court adjourned forthe Christmas holidays. 

"An' that day a decision was handed down in my appeal to the courtof last resort. It was a cablegram from an Italian city, an' averdict in my favor. I am to get in that case the best fee onrecord--a wife and the love of a dear and beautiful woman. We wentto school together, and I am ashamed that I didn't ask her to marryme years ago. So much for me had Lizzie an' the kids accomplished. 

"I was to dine with the Warburtons Christmas Eve, and be SantaClaus for the children. I bought a set o' whiskers an' put on mybig fur coat and two sets o' bells on the mare, an' drove to thevilla, with a full pack in the buggy an' a fuller heart in mybreast. 

"Bill an' Mrs. Bill an' I went over to the farm-house together withour arms full. The children were in a room up-stairs with Mrs. Hammond waiting for Santa Claus. Below we helped the two maids, who were trimming the Christmas tree--and a wonderful tree it waswhen we were done with it--why, sir, you'd have thought a rainbowwas falling into a thicket on the edge of a lake. My friend, itwas the tree of all fruits. 

"We filled the little stockings hanging on the mantel. Then theyhelped me to put on my beard an' the greatcoat an' cap an' the packover all, an' Mrs. Bill an' I went out-of-doors. We stood stillan' listened for a moment. Two baby voices were calling out of anupper window: 'Santa Claus, please come, Santa Claus!' Then weheard the window close an' the chatter above stairs, but we stoodstill. Mrs. Bill seemed to be laughing, but I observed that herhandkerchief had the centre of the stage in this little comedy. 

"In half a minute I stole down the road an' picked up the bellsthat lay beside it, an' came prancin' to the door with a greatjingle, an' in I went an' took my stand by the Christmas tree. Wecould hear the hurry of small feet, an' eager, half-hushed voicesin the hall overhead. Then down the stairway came my slenderbattalion in the last scene of the siege. Their eyes were widewith wonder, their feet slow with fear. The little captain ofthree years ran straight to Mrs. Bill an' lay hold of her gown, an'partly hid himself in its folds, an' stood peekin' out at me. Itwas a masterful bit of strategy. I wonder how he could have doneit so well. She raised him in her arms an' held him close. Agreat music-box in a corner began to play:

 "'O tannenbaum! O tannenbaum! wie grun sind deine blaetter!'

[Illustration: Their eyes were wide with wonder. ]

"Then with laughter an' merry jests we emptied the pack, an'gathered from the tree whose fruit has fed the starving human heartfor more than a thousand years, an' how it filled those friends o'mine!

"Well, it was the night of my life, an' when I turned to go, itsclimax fell upon me. Mrs. Bill kneeled at my feet, an' said withtears in her eyes, an' her lips an' voice trembling:

"'O Santa Claus! you have given me many things, but I beg formore--five more. '

"The city had fallen. Its queen was on her knees. The victoriousarmy was swarming into the open gate of her arms. The hosts ofdoubt an' fear were fleeing. 

"I refuse to tell you all that happened in the next minute or two. A witness has some rights when testifyin' against his own manhood. 

"I helped the woman to her feet, an' said:

"'They are yours. I shall be happy enough, and, anyhow, I do notthink I shall need them now. '

"An' so I left them as happy as human beings have any right to be. At last they had caught up with Lizzie, an' I, too, was in a fairway to overtake her. 

"An' how fared Dan in his pursuit of that remarkable maiden? Why, that very night Lizzie an' Dan had been shakin' the tree o' love, an' I guess the fruit on it was fairly ripe an' meller. Next daythey came up to my house together. 

"Dan couldn't hold his happiness, an' slopped over as soon as hewas inside the door. 

"'Mr. Potter, ' says he, with more than Christmas merriment, 'we'regoing to be married next month. '

"Before I could say a word he had gathered Lizzie up in his armsan' kissed her, an' she kissed back as prompt as if it had been aslap in a game o' tag. 

"'You silly man, ' she says, 'you could have had me long ago. '

"'If I'd only 'a' known it, ' he says. 

"'Oh, the ignorance o' some men!' she says, lookin' into his eyes. 

"'It exceeds the penetration o' some women, ' I says. 

"They came together ag'in quite spiteful. I separated 'em. 

"'Quit, ' I says. 'Stop pickin' on each other. It provokes you an'me too. You're like a pair o' kids turned loose in a candy store. Behave yerselves an' listen to reason. '

"Lizzie turned upon me as if she thought it was none o' mybusiness. Then she smiled an' hid her face on the manly breast o'Dan. 

"'Now Lizzie, ' I says, 'get yer mind in workin' order as soon as yecan. Dan, you go over an' stand by the window. I want you to keepat least ten paces apart, an' please don't fire 'til ye get thesignal. I'm goin' to give a prize for the simplest weddin' thatever took place in Pointview, ' I says. 'It will be five hundreddollars in gold for the bride. Don't miss it. '

"'The marriage will occur at noon, ' says Lizzie. 'There'll benothing but simple morning frocks. The girls can wear calico ifthey wish. No jewels, no laces, no elaborate breakfast. "

"'An' no presents, but mine, that cost over five dollars each, ' Isays. 

"An' that's the way it was--like old times. No hard work wasted ingettin' ready, no vanity fair, no heart-burnin', no bitter envy, nocussin' about the expense. There was nothing but love an'happiness an' goodwill at that wedding. It was just as God wouldhave a wedding, I fancy, if He were the master o' ceremonies, as Heought to be. 

"They are now settled on a thousand acres o' land here in NewEngland. Dan has eight gangs o' human oxen from Italy at work forhim getting in his fertilizers. He rides a horse all day an' is ascordy as a Roman gladiator. Do you know what it means? Tenthousand like him are going into the same work, the greed o' themiddleman will be checked, an' one o' these days the old earth 'llbe lopsided with the fruitfulness of America. "

VII

IN WHICH THE HONORABLE SOCRATES POTTER CATCHES UP WITH LIZZIE

Early in June I was invited to the wedding of Miss Betsey Smead andthe Honorable Socrates Potter. Miss Betsey had inherited a largeestate, and lived handsomely in the Smead homestead, built by hergrandfather. She was a woman of taste and refinement, but, indeference to Socrates, no doubt, the invitations had been printedin the office of the local newspaper. There could have been nobetter example of honest simplicity. The good news sent me inquest of my friend the lawyer. I found him in Miss Betsey'slibrary. He was in high spirits and surrounded by treasures of art. 

"Yes, I'm in luck, " he began. "Miss Betsey is a dear soul. We'rebound to be happy in spite of all this polished brass an' plate an'mahogany. There's nothin' here that I can put my feet on, exceptthe rugs or the slippery floor or the fender. Everything has theappearance o' bein' more valuable than I am. If it was mine I'dtake an axe an' bring things down to my level. I'm kind o' scairtfor fear I'll sp'ile suthin' er other. Sometimes I feel as if I'dlike to crawl under the grand pyano an' git out o' danger. Nowlook at old gran'pa Smead in his gold frame on the wall. He's gotme buffaloed. Watches every move I make. Betsey laughs an' tellsme I can sp'ile anything I want to, but gran'pa is ever remindin'me o' the ancient law o' the Smeads an' the Persians. "

"Mr. Potter, I owe so much to you, " I said. "I want to make you apresent--something that you and your wife will value. I've thoughtabout it for weeks. Can you--"

He interrupted me with a smile and these gently spoken words:

"Friends who wish to express their good-will in gifts are requestedto consider the large an' elegant stock o' goods in the localninety-nine-cent store. Everything from socks to sunbursts may befound there. Necklaces an' tiaras are not prohibited if guaranteedto be real ninety-nine-centers. These days nobody has cheapthings. That makes them rare an' desirable. All diamonds shouldweigh at least half a pound. Smaller stones are too common. Everybody has them, you know. Why, the wife of the butcher's clerkis payin' fifty cents a week on a solitaire. Gold, silver, an'automobiles will be politely but firmly refused--too common, fartoo common! Nothin' is desired likely to increase envy or bankloans or other forms of contemporaneous crime in Pointview. Wewould especially avoid increasin' the risk an' toil of overworkedan' industrious burglars. They have enough to do as it is--poorfellows--they hardly get a night's rest. Miss Betsey's home hasalready given 'em a lot o' trouble. "

His humor had relieved its pressure in the deep, good-naturedchuckle of the Yankee, as he strode up an' down the floor with bothhands in his trousers pockets. 

"Look at that ol' duffer, " he went on, as he pointed at the sternfeatures of grandpa Smead. "Wouldn't ye think he'd smile now an'then. Maybe he'll cheer up after I've lived here awhile. "

He moved a couple of chairs to give him more room, an' went on:

"Now, there's Bill Warburton. I supposed he was a friend o' mine, but we had a fight in school, years ago, an' I guess he's never gotover it. Anyhow, I caught him tryin' to slip an automobile onme--just caught him in time. There he was tryin' to rob me o' theuse o' my legs an' about fifteen hundred a year for expenses an'build me up into a fat man with indigestion an' liver-complaint. Iserved an injunction on him. 

"Another man has tried to make me the lifelong slave of a silverservice. He'd gone down to Fifth Avenue an' ordered it, an' Isuppose it would 'a' cost thousands. Tried to sneak it on me. Canye think o' anything meaner? It would 'a' cost me a pretty pennyfor insurance an' storage the rest o' my life, an' then think ofour--ahem--our poor children! Why, it would be as bad as amortgage debt. Every time I left home I would have worried aboutthat silver service; every time the dog barked at night I wouldhave trembled in my bed for the safety o' the silver service; everytime we had company I would have been afraid that somebody wasgoin' to scratch the silver service; an' when I saw a stranger intown, I would have said to myself: 'Ah, ha! it may be that he hasheard of our silver service an' has come to steal it. ' I wouldhave begun to regard my servants an' many other people with dreadan' suspicion. Why, once I knew a man who had a silver service, an' they carried it up three nights to the attic every night forfifty years. They figured that they'd walked eleven hundred milesup an' down stairs with the silver service in their hands. Thethought that they couldn't take it with 'em hastened an' embitteredtheir last days. Then the heirs learned that it wasn't genuineafter all. 

"Of course, I put another injunction upon that man. 'If we've everdone anything to you, forgive us, ' I said, 'but please do notcripple us with gold or silver. '"

He stopped and put his hand upon my shoulder and continued:

"My young friend, if you would make us a gift, I wish it might besomething that will give us pleasure an' not trouble, somethingthat money cannot buy an' thieves cannot steal--your love an' goodwishes to be ours as long as you live an' we live--at least. Weshall need no token o' that but your word an' conduct. "

I assured him of all he asked for with a full heart. 

"Should I come dressed?" was my query. 

"Dressed, yes, but not dressed up, " he answered. "Neither whiteneckties nor rubber boots will be required. "

"How are Mr. And Mrs. Bill?"

"Happier than ever, " said he. "Incidentally they've learned thatlife isn't all a joke, for one of those little brownies led them tothe gate of the great mystery an' they've begun to look through itan' are' wiser folks. Two other women are building orphan lodgeson their grounds, an' there's no tellin' where the good work willend. "

We were interrupted by the entrance of Miss Betsey Smead. She wasa comely, bustling, cheerful little woman of about forty-five, witha playful spirit like that of Socrates himself. 

"This is my _financee_, " said Socrates. "She has waited for metwenty-five years. "

"And he kept me waiting--the wretch!--just because my grandfatherleft me his money, " said Miss Betsey. 

"I shall never forgive that man, " said Socrates, as he shook hisfist at the portrait. "An' she was his only grandchild, too. "

"And think how comfortable he might have been here, and how I'veworried about him. " Miss Betsey went on: "Here, Soc. , put yourfeet on this piano seat. Now you look at home. "

"When I achieve the reformation of Betsey I shall have a kitchentable to put my feet on!" said Soc. , as I left them. 

Then I decided that I would send him a kitchen table. 

THE END