THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 WHICH 
 
 A STORY OF SOCIAL CONDITIONS 
 
 BY 
 
 MARY H. FORD 
 
 BOSTON MDCCCXCI 
 LEE AND SHEPARD PUBLISHERS 
 
 10 MILK STREET NEXT "THE OLD SOUTH MEETING HOUSE" 
 
 NEW YORK CHAS. T. DILLINGIIAM 
 718 AND 720 BROADWAY
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1891, BY LEE AND SHEPARD 
 
 All rights reserved 
 
 WHICH WINS?
 
 PS 
 
 THIS VOLUME IS DEDICATED TO THE 
 
 FAKMEKS' ALLIANCE 
 
 the members of which, although busy toilers, 
 have become, what the greatest men have 
 always been, both toilers and thinkers, as a 
 slight testimonial of the Author's respect and 
 sympathy for the aims and achievements of 
 that great organization. 
 
 1458886
 
 PREFACE 
 
 SINCE Wagner wrote his great opera of Parsifal, it is, 
 perhaps, unnecessary to remind the reader of the follow- 
 ing story, that at least one romance of the Holy Grail 
 is a study of spiritual development. Wolfram von 
 Eschenbach, who wrote his great epic of Parzifal in the 
 first quarter of the thirteenth century, was the only one 
 of the early Grail poets who seemed to feel the need of 
 any qualities save those of strength and bravery and 
 later a sort of pre-natal purity in the winner of the 
 mystic cup. But to Wolfram, success in the strange, 
 unearthly quest to which so many heroes of early chiv- 
 alry were dedicated, depended first and foremost upon 
 the enlightenment of soul and fearlessness of spirit, 
 which must grow in any man who spends years in 
 a pursuit bringing into action the highest faculties 
 of his being. Many critics, therefore, call Wolfram's 
 Parzifal the Faust of the Middle Ages, and it is well 
 worthy of such a title. Richard Wagner felt deeply the 
 poetically spiritual charm of the old poem, and when 
 writing his great opera of Parsifal, embodied in it the 
 grand conception of the doughty minnesinger, that the 
 first quest of a human being should be spiritual enlight-
 
 4 PREFACE 
 
 enment and perfection, and that to this all mundane 
 things should bend. 
 
 It seems strange that the poet who lived centuries ago 
 should find his perfect musical translator in a musician 
 of the nineteenth century, yet in the passion of mate- 
 rial progress, to which our era is dedicated, there are 
 many men like Parsifal, whose eyes turn inward, who 
 feel the sufferings of others so vividly that they are will- 
 ing to turn their backs upon worldly prosperity, and 
 sacrifice all personal profit for the good of their fellow- 
 creatures. With such men lies the possibility of the 
 race for real reform, and they represent a proportion of 
 humanity much larger now than in the thirteenth cen- 
 tury, spite of the menacing frequency with which mil- 
 lionnaires and " trusts " are counted in our civilization. 
 
 It has been the fate of the author to learn a great deal 
 of the struggles of those whose destiny is not the happi- 
 est in these wild present days of ours ; and it is with the 
 hope that the lives of our " Parsifals " may not be quite 
 without avail, that the forthcoming story is given to the 
 world. 
 
 THE AUTHOR.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. A SUDDEN DEPARTURE 7 
 
 II. Is IT LOVE OR SOCIALISM ? 11 
 
 III. A STUDY OF CONTRASTS 16 
 
 IV. MRS. THURSTON'S VIEWS 23 
 
 V. MRS. THURSTON AND THE FARM 39 
 
 VI. THE STRUGGLE FOR EXISTENCE 47 
 
 VII. A PEEP AT NEW YORK 61 
 
 VIII. WATSON ON THE LAND QUESTION 70 
 
 IX. WHAT HAPPENS WHEN THE BANK FAILS . . 80 
 
 X. How THEY FALL IN LOVE IN NEW YORK . . 93 
 
 XL DEBT AND DISAPPOINTMENT 101 
 
 XII. WARD'S VISIT AND His OPINIONS 109 
 
 XIII. THE RICH MAN'S FRIENDSHIP 120 
 
 XIV. MAGGIE DECIDES TO GO INTO BUSINESS . . . 125 
 XV. WOOING AND WAITING 131 
 
 XVI. THE SHADOW FALLS 139 
 
 XVII. MRS. THURSTON'S DEATH 152 
 
 XVIII. A NEW ATMOSPHERE 162 
 
 XIX. JOHN LEARNS SOMETHING OF BUSINESS . . . 167 
 
 XX. WATSON ARRIVES IN KANSAS CITY .... 177 
 XXI. KATHERINE GETS ACQUAINTED WITH HER 
 
 HUSBAND 181 
 
 XXII. EOSE AS A HOUSEKEEPER 194 
 
 XXIII. WATSON AND THE NEW PARTY 201 
 
 XXIV. THE DICTUM OF A CAPITALIST 209 
 
 XXV. A TALK WITH A LABORING MAN 221 
 
 5
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 XXVI. KATHERINE OPENS HEB HEAKT 227 
 
 XXVII. MAGGIE FALLS IN LOVE 239 
 
 XXVIII. A NEW KIND OF POLITICS 247 
 
 XXIX. A DEMOCRATIC PRIMARY 261 
 
 XXX. AN UNEXPECTED DISMISSAL 272 
 
 XXXI. A WEDDING IN THE WATSON FAMILY ... 278 
 
 XXXII. A LABOR UNION MEETING 288 
 
 XXXIII. THE BEGINNING OR THE END ? 301 
 
 XXXIV. A FITTING CONCLUSION .... .310
 
 WHICH WINS 
 
 CHAPTEE I 
 
 A SUDDEN DEPARTURE 
 
 IT was a bright, breezy morning, and the dock at 
 Hamburg was thronged with a noisy concourse of people, 
 as one of the large steamers was about to sail for Amer- 
 ica, and crowds of emigrants, hurrying about, bidding 
 farewell, were setting sail for the distant El Dorado, 
 whence, if they were prospered, they hoped to send the 
 wherewithal to transport some hundreds of the anxious 
 friends and relatives with whom they now clasped hands 
 and cried, " Auf wiedersehen ! " 
 
 Amid the eager, bustling throng, a young man sat 
 quietly upon a little steamer-trunk, surrounded by a 
 small mountain of "traps" of various descriptions, over 
 which he seemed to be keeping a very careless watch, 
 so intent was he upon the mass of humanity surrounding 
 him. He appeared especially interested in the fortunes 
 of a young couple near him, who could not make up 
 their minds to separate, though the moment was rapidly 
 approaching when they must say farewell. The young 
 man was to seek his fortune in the New World, the 
 maiden to keep faith in the Old ; and as the traveller 
 watched the two, repeating the romance of an ever- 
 recurring tragedy, he forgot himself and his own swiftly 
 nearing departure. He was recalled to consciousness by 
 a sounding slap upon his shoulder. 
 7
 
 8 WHICH WINS 
 
 " Hallo, Parsifal ! What are you doing here ? Going 
 off ? I didn't see your name on the steamer's register. 
 I thought you had sailed already." 
 
 The young man thus addressed looked up with a start, 
 and a slight flush. 
 
 "Why, Ward," he replied, "how you do startle a 
 fellow ! You don't mean to say you sail on the Cam- 
 bria ? " 
 
 "Certainly," responded the new-comer. "You are 
 not very happy over the prospect of my company, it 
 seems. What took you away from Berlin so suddenly ? " 
 
 The hero of the trunk shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 "Business," he responded briefly. "Say, Ward," he 
 added with a glance of some annoyance at his compan- 
 ion, " you'll probably be surprised to learn why my name 
 was not on the steamer list." 
 
 " How is that ? " replied his companion, with an in- 
 tonation indicative of some interest. 
 
 " I'm going in the steerage," said the other briefly. 
 
 Stephen Ward looked at his companion an instant 
 with an expression of boundless astonishment. John 
 Thurston, for that was the name of the person addressed 
 as "Parsifal," was a man whom any one would have 
 called unusually well endowed in the matter of looks. 
 Tall and finely formed, he had a beautiful head covered 
 with fair curly hair closely cut. Large dark eyes, wide 
 open like Shelley's, a broad, intellectual forehead, long, 
 delicate hands, he made a tout ensemble rather striking 
 than otherwise. He was always careless in his dress, 
 and appeared rather more so than usual at the moment, 
 for he had added a dark flannel shirt to his toilet, 
 evidently in preparation for his steerage passage. 
 
 " What are you going in the steerage for, I should 
 like to know ? " asked Ward, repressing his surprise as 
 much as possible, for fear of offending his friend.
 
 A STRANGE EXPLANATION 9 
 
 " Why not I as well as all these ? " asked Thurston, 
 with an eloquent gesture toward the crowd about them. 
 
 " Oh, come now, Thurston, a man doesn't usually go 
 in the steerage when he can pay his passage somewhere 
 else," began Ward. 
 
 "But I can't pay my passage anywhere else," replied 
 Thurston coolly. "I've lost everything, my income, 
 and the principal it came from." 
 
 This time his companion could not subdue a low ejac- 
 ulation of surprise. " Why, old fellow, isn't that very 
 sudden ? " he exclaimed. " How did it happen ? " 
 
 " Oh, gambling ! " replied Thurston, with a gesture 
 which indicated that he did not care to pursue the sub- 
 ject any farther. " I played for a high stake, and lost, 
 that's all." So saying, he gathered up his satchels and 
 bundles, and, signing to a small boy who stood near to 
 assist him, began transferring his baggage to the deck 
 of the steamer. 
 
 Ward, meanwhile, stood gazing after him with an 
 expression of stupefaction. John Thurston's course at 
 Berlin had been peculiar. A precocious graduate from 
 Harvard, he had gone over to the German capital at the 
 age of twenty-one, yielding to his mother's entreaties 
 that he should spend a couple of years at a foreign uni- 
 versity. Mrs. Thurston was a widow of some wealth 
 and considerable social standing in New York City, and 
 she had become quite alarmed at her son's romantic 
 ideas, and his interest in social questions, during the 
 last two years of his college course. These- idiosyncra- 
 sies she thought would be corrected by the conservative 
 training of a German university, while his health would 
 profit by the change, for John's father had died of con- 
 sumption, and the young man's physique was far from 
 being so robust as his appearance would indicate. Mrs. 
 Thurston therefore persuaded him to a sojourn at Berlin,
 
 10 WHICH WINS 
 
 which John's own studious inclinations made very 
 attractive to him. 
 
 While there, however, his career had been quite dis- 
 appointing. Instead of studying the Oriental languages, 
 as he had intended, he plunged deep into subjects of 
 mediaeval literature, social questions, land tenure, etc. 
 Everything concerning the development of mankind and 
 the evolvement of its civilization apparently possessed 
 an irresistible fascination for him. The Middle Ages 
 were full of a mysterious charm, for in that dark period 
 were not the seeds of all modern culture hidden ? 
 And he spent hours over the productions of the minne- 
 sanger and the troubadours, which in the opinion of his 
 friends might have been more profitably employed. 
 Among other things, he became absorbed in Wolfram 
 von Eschenbach's Parsifal to such a degeee, that his 
 companions nicknamed him derisively after that hero of 
 the Holy Grail, considering him a sort of modern Don 
 Quixote in his freaks of ascetic self-denial, and his en- 
 thusiastic championship of the rights of others, and 
 sympathy with their wrongs ; a sympathy which led 
 him as readily to divide his income with an impecunious 
 fellow-student, as to send a rose to a poor little music- 
 teacher with whom he was quite unacquainted, but who 
 he knew was lonely and forlorn. 
 
 A vivid resume of all these things passed through 
 Ward's mind, as he gazed after the retreating form of 
 Parsifal, marching up to the deck of the steamer with 
 his trunk upon his shoulder. 
 
 " By Jove ! " he murmured, " gambling ! Well, I never 
 will believe in a sanctimonious and poetical outside 
 again ! I wonder what else he did on the sly ? "
 
 IS IT LOVE OR SOCIALISM? 11 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 IS IT LOVE OB SOCIALISM? 
 
 MEANWHILE, as the Cambria ploughed her way over 
 the broad Atlantic, what were the thoughts of the hand- 
 some young steerage passenger who seemed so thoroughly 
 out of place in the narrow and ill-smelling quarters he 
 had chosen, and who nevertheless appeared so well con- 
 tented with himself, or the book in his hand, or the 
 companions with whom he shared his black bread and 
 herring, and so unconscious of the admiring glances 
 which the young lady passengers of the first cabin 
 bestowed upon him from time to time ? 
 
 The events of the preceding six months were often in 
 his mind, doubtless, but his fancy recurred most fre- 
 quently to a scene in the apartments of a wealthy young 
 nobleman, some weeks before his departure from Berlin. 
 Heinrich von Bitter, a student friend, had invited 
 Thurston, Ward, Von Stollert, a young man who was 
 profound in art criticism, and several others, to inspect 
 an artist-proof copy of Waltner's etching of Millet's 
 Angelus, which he had added to quite a choice collection 
 of etchings already in his possession. How vividly 
 John remembered the room with its dark rich hangings, 
 the bright fire before which a tiger-skin rug was lying, 
 the broad south window, and the flood of pale wintry 
 sunshine pouring through it upon the beautiful etching. 
 As Thurston leaned over the railing looking into the 
 blue water, it often seemed to him as if the etching were 
 painted upon the waves, and beside it the pure face of a
 
 12 WHICH WINS 
 
 fair-haired young girl, whose blue eyes smiled back to 
 him as he gazed with a thankful benediction. The 
 afternoon was a delightful one, to be sure, but there was 
 something tantalizing in the way its details kept coming 
 back to him. Von Stollert settled the matter of the 
 etching's excellence at once, and then each expressed his 
 individual preference. 
 
 "I don't like Millet," said Ward, "he is too realistic. 
 He is a wonderful artist, of course ; but I couldn't stand 
 his pictures upon my walls ; I always smell them." 
 
 " Smell them ! " exclaimed Von Stollert ; " why, Ward, 
 there's no odor to Millet's varnish ! " 
 
 " But there is to his peasants," replied Ward, looking 
 at the etching through his fist, and sniffing as if the 
 odor of oppressed and unwashed humanity already per- 
 vaded the room. 
 
 " Parsifal ! " cried Heinrich, " do you hear that ? what 
 have you to say for your favorite artist ? " 
 
 " Nothing," replied Thurston quietly. " His peasants 
 do smell, as Ward says." 
 
 "Well, I declare!" cried Stollert, "and don't you 
 object ? " 
 
 " Why, of course not," said John. " Is not the smell 
 of a man a part of his personality ? If I paint you a 
 creature whose degradation has deadened his soul, whose 
 environment has cramped him in every direction, must I 
 stop because he is unwashed, and let you forget that the 
 burden of life has never been lifted long enough for him 
 to bathe, or learn the necessity or luxury of such an act ? 
 No ! I'll paint you every inch of his dirt, and leave you 
 to draw the moral of it if you can." 
 
 " Parsifal ! " exclaimed Heinrich, who was looking out 
 of the window, " I feel sometimes as if there were really 
 an excuse for your radicalism, one sees so much suffer- 
 ing- in the world. Now, there goes a little girl," he
 
 A FAIK MAIDEN PEKNILESS 13 
 
 added, pointing to a slender, fair-haired figure on the 
 opposite side of the street. "She is a pupil of Frau 
 Schumann, and has a marvellous talent ; there is a career 
 open to her. A friend has been educating her ; but this 
 friend has lately died without leaving any provision for 
 her maintenance, and she must give up everything and 
 return home." 
 
 " But can't she take scholars, or something ? " cried 
 John ; " surely, having gone so far, she cannot throw 
 away her prospects in that fashion." 
 
 "Well, she's not practical," explained Heinrich. 
 " She's overwhelmed by her misfortune, and seems to 
 have no idea that she could maintain herself alone, so 
 far from home. I don't know as she could," he added ; 
 "it's a hard struggle for a delicate woman, especially 
 when every other girl gives music lessons." 
 
 " What is her name ? " asked John eagerly. 
 
 "Kate Woolcott; do you want to become her bene- 
 factor ? " inquired Ward, with a smile that was half a 
 sneer. 
 
 " Could we not get up a purse for her ? " began John 
 hesitatingly. 
 
 "Oh, see here, Parsifal!" interrupted Stollert, "you 
 are the only fellow I know who thinks we all ought to 
 give away everything we have, and live on a crust. The 
 girl can support herself if she will. I heard her play a 
 Liszt-Khapsodie the other day with positive brilliancy, 
 and you know we have none of us very generous 
 incomes." 
 
 John cast his eyes about the luxurious apartment 
 involuntarily, and as they came back they rested on the 
 diamond which glittered on the young baron's white 
 finger, but he said nothing. He had a way of relapsing 
 into sudden silence when his friends exclaimed at his 
 vagaries, which probably accounted for their patience
 
 14 WHICH WINS 
 
 with his idiosyncrasies. But the girl's face haunted 
 him. Shortly afterwards he received an invitation to 
 one of Frau Schumann's recitals, and with a half-ac- 
 knowledged desire to see once more the unfortunate 
 Miss Woolcott, and hear her play, he went. Sure 
 enough, there was her name on the programme for a 
 Chopin sonata, and John waited anxiously for her 
 appearance. When she came, her playing was all he 
 had hoped for ; while technically not yet perfect, it was 
 stamped with a comprehension, a Polish enthusiasm, 
 which delighted John ; for musically he was a modern, 
 and grew warm over the weird mysticism of Schumann, 
 the intellectual passion of Chopin, and the lyric extrava- 
 gances of Liszt, Moskowski, and the entire new school 
 of emotional interpretation. 
 
 Going home the face of the player would not leave 
 him again, and his own income, though far from ample, 
 seemed a crime in comparison with the poverty of the 
 young player he had just heard. 
 
 " What justice is there in human conditions ? " he 
 thought to himself. "There is a woman gifted and 
 beautiful, with a career open before her, from which she 
 will be barred by lack of money to fit herself for it; 
 while here am I, a man strong and able to labor, with 
 no talents for anything in particular, and yet I have 
 never lifted a finger to help myself since I was born. 
 Why should I have so much, and others nothing ? 
 Sometimes it seems to me I shall never be happy until 
 I have stripped myself of everything, and stand on an 
 equality with the poorest son of Mother Earth." And 
 John sighed as he reflected how Ward would sneer at 
 that last piece of sentimentalism. 
 
 Some weeks after that, John left Berlin suddenly. 
 He went away at night without saying good-by to any 
 one, and his friends declared that he had put the climax
 
 PARSIFAL'S QUIXOTISM 15 
 
 to all his oddities by such behavior. They accounted 
 for his disappearance in every possible way, and found 
 all sorts of reasons for his conduct except the real one. 
 That was so unheard-of, that no one would have thought 
 of attributing it even to Parsifal. And he locked it in 
 his own breast. 
 
 The fact is, he could not believe it right to have 
 theories and not carry them out. How could he sub- 
 scribe to one set of principles and live by another ? He 
 hated falsity of every sort, and was so strangely con- 
 stituted that he could only be at peace when the outer 
 life corresponded with the inner thought. In this rush- 
 ing century it is safer not to think too much. Parsifal 
 had not learned how severely society punishes any in- 
 fraction of its rules, and how sternly and inflexibly It 
 cries, " Be like me, or go under."
 
 16 WHICH WINS 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 A STUDY OF CONTRASTS 
 
 WHO that has ever taken an ocean voyage can forget 
 it ? The ocean is such a visible bit of the Infinite, that 
 the human being who is rocked on its bosorn is weighed 
 by the very contact ; and the man or woman who does 
 not think some thoughts, while measuring the blue line of 
 the horizon where sea and sky meet, is shallow indeed. 
 
 The voyage was one fruitful in reflection to John, for 
 he felt that a crisis had arrived in his life which de- 
 manded of him a momentous decision, and one which 
 might bring him into collision with his somewhat con- 
 ventional and irascible mother. Therefore he did a 
 great deal of thinking, stretched out on the deck, with 
 nothing but clear air between him and the shining stars, 
 or questioning the hard-handed peasants with whom his 
 lot was cast for the time being, and whom he found very 
 suggestive of many things. He was especially inter- 
 ested in Carl, the young man whose farewell with his 
 sweetheart had attracted his attention while awaiting 
 the departure of the steamer, and who seemed to have 
 been cast adrift by fate, with very indefinite ideas of 
 how he was to carve his lot out of the future. 
 
 " What are you going to do with yourself when you 
 get to New York, Carl ? " he asked one day as the two 
 were discussing their dinner together. 
 
 " Oh, I will get me a piece of land and build a house, 
 and then send for Gretchen, you know," replied Carl, 
 easily. " She is a good girl ; she will wait awhile." 
 
 " But have you any money to buy a farm with ? " 
 asked John, with some curiosity.
 
 SOME PEASANT PRINCIPLES 17 
 
 "Oh, no, not now, but I will make it in America; and 
 if I don't, the President will give me a farm," said Carl, 
 trustingly, as he swallowed a chunk of black bread, and 
 made away with half a herring at one bite. 
 
 " And is that the reason you came away, to get a farm, 
 Carl ? " asked John, after a pause, during which Carl 
 sat with his eyes fixed on the water, and the remaining 
 half a herring poised in mid air. 
 
 " Ach Gottf Yes, I was thinking of Gretchen," mur- 
 mured Carl, with a start, quickly swallowing the other 
 half a herring, and drawing his coat-cuff across his eyes. 
 
 "In the old country there is no chance," he added, 
 speaking a peculiar Northern dialect which John de- 
 lighted in. " A man must work somebody else's land, 
 and taxes are so high, and rent so big, you can't do any 
 more than make the bread you eat ; and Gretchen is 
 wise, she would like to get on in the world. So she 
 says, ' Carl, you go over there and get a farm, and then 
 we can be grand folks some day.' " 
 
 " And so Gretchen is the prudent one, is she ? " asked 
 John, with a smile. 
 
 "Yes; Gretchen is sharp," admitted Carl, carefully. 
 " Not that Gretchen doesn't know her place, she knows 
 she's nothing but a woman, but then you see she's 
 lived with the great folks, and heard 'em talk, and I'm 
 not the fellow to say I won't do a thing just because 
 Gretchen thinks it's right, and Gretchen's only a woman." 
 And Carl rubbed his knees with a broad smile of self- 
 complacence, as if he felt himself worthy of all Gretch- 
 en's care and planning. 
 
 " Carl, what would you choose if you had the whole 
 world to pick from?" asked his friend, after some 
 moments, devoted principally to ruminating as to the 
 quantity of lunch Carl could dispose of, supposing it 
 and time were before him in unlimited quantities.
 
 18 WHICH WINS 
 
 " What do you think a man ought to ask to be happy in 
 this world, if all his wishes could be gratified ? " 
 
 Carl looked suddenly thoughtful, and bit off a large sec- 
 tion of bread to chew on. The abstractions even of bread 
 and butter were a little too much for him, and though 
 he knew he wanted Gretchen and a farm, it was difficult 
 to hold the idea off, and survey it from a distance. 
 
 "I wouldn't like to be thought grasping," he said at 
 last, with a little flush, "but I think the man that had 
 a good farm all his own, and some cattle, and horses, 
 and a pig or two, maybe, and Gretchen for his wife, and 
 a houseful of nice children, needn't ask anything more. 
 Though I do say," he added, thoughtfully, " I'd like to 
 have a carryall to take us to church once in a while, for 
 Gretchen thinks a deal of going to church." 
 
 "And don't you care about the church ?" asked John, 
 curiously. 
 
 " I don't think so much of it as Gretchen does," said Carl, 
 slowly. " It does very well for women-folks, but I think 
 the dear God won't punish a man for not going to church, 
 if he takes care of his family, and works hard every day." 
 
 " But what becomes of your soul then, Carl ? Does it 
 look after itself, you think ? " suggested John. 
 
 "Mem Geist?" repeated Carl, scratching his head. 
 " Yes, I have a soul, I suppose ; the priest says so, but 
 my stomach troubles me much more than that." And 
 Carl laughed, and helped himself to a large piece of 
 Wiener- Wurst which his mother had added to his lunch- 
 basket as an especial delicacy, as if he thought his soul 
 a very good joke indeed. 
 
 "By Jove, Carl ! " said John, after a little, " I believe 
 you're right in this world, anyway. I wish my soul 
 and stomach could change places as yours do ; it would 
 please my mother hugely, I'm sure." And, with a more 
 thoughtful brow than usual, John sought a group of
 
 THE PROBLEM OF THE DAY 19 
 
 children near by, whose chief friend and counsellor he 
 was during the entire voyage. 
 
 But the problem he had put to Carl, and which he felt 
 he must solve for himself, would not out of his mind. 
 What must a man do in this world to get the best there 
 is out of it and himself ? he kept asking, wondering at the 
 same time how his own solution of the problem would fit 
 that which he was certain his mother would have to offer. 
 
 One day as John was lying against a pile of rope with 
 his favorite Shelley in his hand, Ward strolled toward 
 him and asked him the identical question which he him- 
 self had put to Carl. 
 
 " Parsifal," he said, " what are you going to do with 
 yourself when you get to New York ? " 
 
 " I suppose you will be surprised to hear me say it," 
 replied John, shutting his book with a snap, and sitting 
 up straight, " but I am thinking seriously of going West 
 on a farm for a while. I want to find out as much about 
 life as I can, and I know the city tolerably well. I should 
 like to learn the country, and the type it produces," he 
 added slowly. 
 
 " But, John, what would become of your ambitions in 
 such an existence as that ? " asked his friend. " You 
 are too much of a student to make a farmer." 
 
 " I may not make a farmer, but I want to know men ; 
 I am tired of books," said John, rising, and stretching out 
 his tall form as if he felt the infinite capacities of ex- 
 pansion in the universe. " Life has never meant any- 
 thing to me ; yet there must be some significance in it," 
 he added, scanning anxiously his friend's face ; " and I 
 should like to find it out. What is it to you, Ward ? what 
 do you find in it ? " 
 
 " What do I find in it? " replied the other, tossing away 
 his half-smoked cigar, with an air of disdain. " Why, a 
 great deal, I should say. I am no student, but I intend
 
 20 WHICH WINS 
 
 to do something in the world before I die. I shall be a 
 rich man ; money is the power that rules the world to- 
 day, John, and I mean to have plenty of it. Then I'll 
 marry a beautiful wife, with valuable accomplishments 
 that will reflect credit on my taste, and if life doesn't 
 have a meaning for me it won't be my fault." 
 
 " But what are you here for ? " asked Parsifal anx- 
 iously. " Look yonder," he added, pointing to the dis- 
 tant horizon. " There is the line where the sea and sky 
 meet ; we are always approaching it, yet we never reach 
 it. So it is with the mystery of this existence of ours. 
 It never will unravel for me. Why was I born into an 
 atmosphere of culture, refinement, and knowledge, while 
 these poor beings " pointing to the group of peasants 
 near whom they stood " have been denied almost every- 
 thing except a body to feed and care for ? " 
 
 " There you are again ! " cried Ward as he paused, 
 "after the Holy Grail. You'll never find it, Parsifal, 
 unless you stop theorizing, and use the conditions that 
 are under your hand. You ask what life is for," he 
 added. " It is to make the most of ; it is essentially for 
 the practical man. Eave about soul all day if you like, 
 but I tell you life offers its rewards to the man who lets 
 his soul take care of itself, and sees that his own partic- 
 ular body is well provided for. I'm willing to let the 
 question of immortality rest," he continued, " for I know 
 one thing, namely, that I am a highly organized body 
 which requires the exercise of a great many forces to 
 satisfy its desires. I find those forces under my hand, 
 and I intend to use them. Whether they will bear any 
 fruit on the other side of that mysterious line you are 
 talking about, I don't know ; but I do know that they 
 will drop plenty of plums into my hands, and I am ready 
 to take all I can get." 
 
 " But wouldn't you care to know whether anything
 
 SOME PRINCIPLES ARE THEY PEASANT 21 
 
 will live after that precious body of yours has gathered 
 all its plums? " asked John, curiously. 
 
 " No, not particularly," replied the other ; " if I am 
 sure of the plums here, I'll risk the treasure of another 
 world. I must say," he added, laughing a little while he 
 twisted the ends of his rather long mustache, "the joys 
 of heaven never had much attraction for me. There are 
 precious few things I should care about, if I didn't have 
 this coating of solid flesh and blood to feel them with, 
 and I beg to be excused from that condition of hungry 
 emptiness they call soul." 
 
 " Hungry emptiness ! " repeated John, slowly. " Do 
 you remember Shelley's expression in 'The skylark,' 
 ' unbodied joy ' ? That 's the soul exactly ; life abso- 
 lutely without bounds or limitations, that would be 
 Heaven alone ! " 
 
 " And yet," replied Ward, dragging his soaring com- 
 panion mercilessly back to earth again, " you are deter- 
 mined to cabin and confine yourself as much as possible. 
 With money a man's life in this world is absolutely with- 
 out bounds or limitations, yet you refuse to have it, 
 throw it away, and seem determined to narrow yourself 
 to the state of a clod as far as possible. I verily believe 
 you gambled away the little you had, for the sake of 
 being rid of it." 
 
 John looked up at that, as if about to make some laugh- 
 ing remonstrance, and then said quietly, "I don't get 
 any pleasure out of the things money buys ; it distresses 
 me too much to see so many people deprived of them ; 
 and besides, Ward, I feel the doubleness of myself so 
 heartily that if I should satiate myself with luxury, the 
 denying spirit inside would declare itself starving just 
 the same." 
 
 Ward laughed a little derisive laugh, which was very 
 characteristic of him. " Try it," he said ; " come up to the
 
 22 WHICH WINS 
 
 cabin, and let me feast you on champagne and oysters, 
 and I'll wager your double will keep quiet for a while. 
 I should be full of yearning myself, if I had lived for 
 ten days on black bread and herring, I assure you." 
 
 The two men stood for a long time gazing off into the 
 blue water, and unconsciously offering a contrast that 
 was often remarked upon by the passengers during the 
 voyage, Thurston with his tall, athletic figure and 
 fine head, somewhat carelessly dressed; "\Yard, short, 
 sallow, rather slightly built, with small gray eyes set 
 close together, and peering keenly forth as if always 
 on the watch for their owner's advantage, and a head 
 which was far from indicating any great intellectual 
 superiority. He was always elegantly dressed, and laid 
 the greatest stress upon outward appearance, although 
 never permitting himself to indulge in dandified extrav- 
 agances. Any one deciding between the two men as to 
 their qualifications for success in the world would have 
 chosen Thurston without hesitation, so marked were the 
 advantages on his side, and so vivid was the impression 
 made by his bright glance and independent bearing. 
 
 They had been standing thus for some time, when 
 Ward suddenly exclaimed, 
 
 " John, do you remember that young player Hitter was 
 speaking of shortly before you left Berlin ? Miss Wool- 
 cott, I mean, the pupil of Frau Schumann." 
 
 "I believe I do," said John with a little start, looking 
 around quickly at his companion ; " why do you ask ? " 
 
 "Talking about money, she had the greatest luck 
 imaginable," he added. " Some man died just in the 
 nick of time, and left her a fortune of twenty thousand 
 dollars, and she intends to continue her studies." 
 
 " Well, I'm heartily glad of it," replied John, earn- 
 estly. " She needed money more than any one I know."
 
 A NEW ATMOSPHERE 23 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 MRS. THURSTON'S VIEWS 
 
 A MONTH or two after his arrival in New York, John 
 had perfected his arrangements for going West, and he 
 entered his mother's sitting-room one morning with the 
 announcement that he was ready for departure. 
 
 " The last papers are signed, and I can go to-morrow, 
 if you say so," he declared briskly, seating himself by his 
 mother's side, and impertinently pulling one of the little 
 curls upon her forehead. 
 
 " Why, John, how precipitate you are ! I shouldn't 
 think of having you start off in such a hurry as that ! " 
 cried Mrs. Thurston with great decision. 
 
 She was the strongest possible contrast to her son ; a 
 short, stout, little body, with snapping black eyes, and a 
 way of settling difficult questions which almost brought 
 the tears to one's eyes, it was sometimes so surprising 
 and unexpected. Her settlements also were usually be- 
 yond appeal, a state of things rather painful to John, as 
 her thoughts ran in a channel so different from his own, 
 that harmony between them was only maintained by 
 complete submission on his part. It must be admitted, 
 however, in justice to Mrs. Thurston, that her love for 
 John was large enough to cover many of his sins, and 
 the submissions she demanded were usually in regard to 
 traditional and conventional points which did not involve 
 a principle. She had very little respect for his " no- 
 tions," as she called most of his pet theories ; but the 
 fact that they were " John's," and that they did not 
 necessitate an open outrage of the conventionalities of
 
 24 WHICH WINS 
 
 society, saved them from the fiat of her absolute disap- 
 proval. 
 
 " But, mother," said John, after they had decided that 
 he should really commence his journey the next day, " it 
 seems dreadful to leave you here with everything to pack 
 up and attend to, especially if we sell part of your house- 
 hold goods. Are you sure you will get everything packed 
 without difficulty ? Would it not be better to keep Carl 
 with you, at any rate ? I am sure he would be a great 
 assistance." 
 
 " Carl ! Carl ! " cried Mrs. Thurston, with deep dis- 
 gust. " The only pleasant thing about your going, John, 
 is the thought that I shall get rid of that fellow, and his 
 tremendous appetite. I never saw such an eater ; he 
 would break me up if I kept him much longer." 
 
 "But, mother, you are only transporting the burden," 
 began John, laughing ; " he will eat just as much on a 
 farm as here, and more too, probably." 
 
 " Oh, well, there will be more to eat on a farm," 
 replied Mrs. Thurston, stepping briskly about the room, 
 opening and shutting drawers, and making various prep- 
 arations for John's departure. " And at least he won't 
 have Lydia to make love to. Gretchen, indeed ! " she 
 added sarcastically. "I'd like to see his Gretchen. 
 The idea of a man's being in love with a Gretchen, and 
 making love to all the Lydias he sees ! I'd settle him 
 in short order," she concluded. 
 
 " Mother," began John hesitatingly, " you don't know 
 how it worries me to think of your tearing up the old 
 home here, and going away out to Nebraska. You can't 
 realize what a change it will be for you, and if you would 
 be persuaded to let me go alone and try the experiment" 
 
 "Now, John, you just be quiet, and let me alone," 
 replied his mother sharply ; " do you think I would let 
 you go out to that wild place by yourself with no one to
 
 A WOMAN OF CHARACTER 25 
 
 look after you ? How do I know what habits you might 
 form, or what you would have to eat ? " she added. 
 "Do you suppose I am willing to have your stomach 
 ruined by a diet of bacon and other farm food ? " 
 
 "But, mother," persisted John, "I'll risk the diet, and 
 you have no idea how hard it will be." For, the more 
 John considered the question, the more sombre his 
 mother's side of it became. "You are not accustomed 
 to drudging labor, and I am. sure it will be impossible to 
 get women servants in that out-of-the-way place, a great 
 deal of the time. Think of your having to do the wash- 
 ing, or even all the cooking on a farm. Why, mother, 
 you couldn't begin to do it at your age ! " 
 
 " At my age ! did I ever ! " cried Mrs. Thurston, stand- 
 ing still, apparently in a state of great excitement ; " I 
 should like to know if I look like a superannuated old 
 woman ? " she added, her eyes sparkling dangerously, 
 " and I promise you I can do more work now than any 
 girl of my acquaintance. Age, indeed ! it isn't age that 
 tells, it's character ; and if you haven't learned that, you 
 had better, John." 
 
 " But, mother," began John again, " I shouldn't like to 
 ask any one woman to do all that must be done on a farm." 
 
 " Oh, no, I suppose not," admitted his mother sarcas- 
 tically ; " it's the fashion nowadays to think a woman 
 ought to fold her hands and to do nothing ; but I've 
 always contended, and always shall, that it's her business 
 to attend to the work of a house, and perform some of it 
 herself. Was there ever a washing done in my laundry 
 that I didn't go down and oversee it ? And I should like 
 to know if you have ever eaten better food than I have 
 cooked ; in fact, if you ever ate a meal in my house that 
 I didn't attend to and flavor properly myself ? Come 
 now!" And Mrs. Thurston stood still to mark more 
 fully the annihilation of her son, every gray curl upon 
 her head trembling with delighted triumph.
 
 26 WHICH WINS 
 
 Meanwhile, satisfied with the state of meekness to 
 which John was apparently reduced, and little guessing 
 the consternation he felt as he reflected upon the differ- 
 ence between flavoring charlotte russe in New York 
 and getting dinner for farm-hands in Nebraska, Mrs. 
 Thurston continued her preparations for his departure, 
 protesting all the time that it was ridiculous for him 
 to go so soon. 
 
 " Carl ! Carl ! " she called from the head of the stairs, 
 "come and bring your master's trunk down from the 
 attic, so that I can pack it for him." 
 
 "Why, mother, I can do that just as well as not," 
 exclaimed John quickly. 
 
 " The idea ! " replied his mother impatiently, as Carl 
 appeared upon the threshold, " can't you let the fellow 
 earn his salt ? Go up-stairs," she added, turning to Carl, 
 " and bring your master's trunk down from the attic." 
 
 Carl stood still looking from one to the other, evi- 
 dently in a condition of agonized despair at his inability 
 to comprehend the lady's meaning, and John was about 
 to translate the command when his mother interrupted 
 him. 
 
 "Why don't you give him a chance to learn English?" 
 she asked, " how will he ever understand it if you keep 
 translating for him all the time ? Now, Carl, attend to 
 me and don't be thinking of Lydia," she added ; " go up- 
 stairs to the attic, and bring down your master's trunk." 
 
 Carl with a sudden look of intelligence disappeared, 
 and in a moment, after some slight sounds of altercation 
 in the hall, arrived upon the scene again, with Lydia 
 blushing and protesting with vigor at such an unaccus- 
 tomed summons. 
 
 "If you would speak through the tube, Mrs. Thurs- 
 ton," she remarked, a trifle stiffly, " I would like it much 
 better than being sent for by such a Turk as that."
 
 MRS. THURSTON ON THE WOMAN QUESTION 27 
 
 Mrs. Thurston sank into a chair speechless with indig- 
 nation, and John, stifling his laughter, dismissed Lydia, 
 and explained the required errand to Carl, who disap- 
 peared with a look of astonished indignation, which 
 boded no good to Mrs. Thurston. 
 
 "Mother," said John, after the trunk was in place, 
 and his mother had resumed her accustomed demeanor ; 
 "if you would rather have me get Carl a place upon 
 some other farm, I am perfectly willing to do it, you 
 know. I am sure he worries you nearly to death with 
 his stupid ways." 
 
 " Oh, no, John," replied the lady with a sigh. " I 
 suppose we shall have to hire foreigners anyway, and 
 one is as bad as another. I do wish," she added, shaking 
 her head solemnly, " that American women would have 
 children fast enough to populate the country without 
 letting in all these outsiders. They'll ruin the blood. 
 There's no telling what the race will be two or three 
 generations from now, for people will marry them, and 
 they all have families of children. American women 
 don't know their duty," she concluded vigorously. 
 
 "But, mother, you only had me," ventured John 
 mildly. 
 
 " Yes, I know I only had you," responded his mother, 
 shaking out a dress suit with all her might; "but I had 
 no idea, when you were a baby, what the state of the 
 country was going to be. Why, John, have you any 
 idea of it yourself ? " she exclaimed, standing still in 
 the middle of the floor, with a Bible in one hand and a 
 bottle of cologne in the other. 
 
 " Of what, mother ? " asked John, with deep enjoy- 
 ment, for he secretly considered his mother the best fun 
 in the world. 
 
 "Why, of what the country is coming to!" explained 
 Mrs. Thurston. " You are so deep in your own thoughts
 
 28 WHICH WINS 
 
 you never see anything," she added; "but there's 
 Bridget, she's been over here two years, and has sent 
 for three sisters and a brother ; and her cousin is married 
 to an alderman, what do you think of that ? " she con- 
 cluded, shielding the Bible from a possible deluge by the 
 cologne-bottle, with triumphant care. 
 
 "Mother, do you believe any of them will go to 
 heaven ? " asked John, with a studied humility too deep 
 to rouse any suspicion as to its sincerity. 
 
 " Go to heaven ! well, I should think not ! " exclaimed 
 his mother; "they are all Catholics, every one of them, 
 and they're just as full of the spirit of the Inquisition as 
 they can be, only that they don't dare to show it out." 
 
 And Mrs. Thurston laid the new flannel shirts in a 
 soft little pile near the cologne-bottle, with a gentle 
 nicety which quite belied the baleful light of her black 
 eyes, flashing eternal punishment, unmitigated by any 
 refrigerating influences, for all foreigners of Catholic 
 persuasion. 
 
 John meanwhile watched her with a very soft look in 
 his eyes. He knew she had sold her house, and was 
 about to sacrifice enjoyments which were strengthened 
 by years of habit, to follow him to that new land for 
 which he yearned ; and he feared the result more than 
 he cared to acknowledge, while he knew that nothing he 
 could suggest would alter in the least his mother's deter- 
 mination to accompany him. She was tired of New 
 York, she said, and she spoke truly. People had grown 
 too rich for her, she thought ; society had changed, and 
 she wasn't anybody any more. She wanted to try a new 
 country where money wasn't so much thought of, and 
 there was some respect for character. And such respect 
 Mrs. Thurston had no doubt of winning. 
 
 John lay awake many hours that night, thinking of 
 the possible results of his scheme, and of its conse-
 
 JOHN'S DREAM OF A FARM 29 
 
 quences to his mother. He meant to buy a farm of 
 about six hundred acres somewhere in Western Nebraska, 
 and stock it with cattle and implements. It might be 
 a rough life, but it would be living, which meant every- 
 thing to him. As to his mother ? It meant, for her, no 
 concerts, no lectures, no society, no church perhaps, no 
 opera certainly, and, alas ! it might bring her nothing 
 in recompense for these losses. 
 
 John's only comfort was that a safe nucleus of bank- 
 stock in New York would enable her to leave the farm, 
 if it became too distasteful to her ; and he determined to 
 add half the price of the house to that reserve, and say 
 nothing to her about it. He could put a mortgage on the 
 farm, he thought, and buy his implements on time, and 
 it would be an easy matter to pay everything off, if his 
 investment was anything like as profitable as it promised 
 to be. 
 
 " They say the soil out there is as black and as rich 
 as plum-pudding," thought John to himself. And he 
 fell asleep to dream of miles of waving corn, and of 
 sleek cattle browsing on flowery meadows, over all 
 which pleasant things he and Carl presided, with profit 
 to themselves, and every promise of the happiness of 
 future Gretchens. 
 
 Life on a Nebraska farm has in it many different 
 elements, as John Thurston very soon discovered, and 
 its best preparation is not, perhaps, twenty-one years in 
 New-York City. John, however, was a very conscien- 
 tious farmer, and with Carl's experience in the Old World 
 to help him, and an astonishing agricultural library, he 
 managed to get his crops in and harvested without any 
 serious mishaps. He did not find the life monotonous 
 in the least ; there was a constant variation of labor, 
 from planting, cultivating, and harvesting, to tending
 
 30 WHICH WINS 
 
 the cattle, of which John had quite a herd ; and then 
 the peace and freshness of the out-of-door life had not 
 wearied John at all, after he had been upon the farm 
 two years. The climate alone was a tonic, for it offered 
 a succession of clear, smiling days, prefaced by dewy, 
 golden dawns, and finished by nights when the round 
 moon hung in the sky, like the gentle wondering eye of 
 some vaporous Cyclops, and the very soul of nature 
 seemed abroad on the prairie. 
 
 The perfection of farming will surely be found in 
 these latter days, when the hard labor is done by the aid 
 of machinery, and a man's body need not be so warped 
 and deadened by manual toil, that his intellect refuses 
 to answer to the demands a well-balanced human being 
 must make upon it. John determined to farm in the 
 most approved modern fashion, and, in fact, it is almost 
 an impossibility to carry on a Western farm in any other 
 way. The vast fields of hay and grain must be planted 
 and harvested by machinery, and while the area toiled 
 upon is thus increased, the labor of the toiler is much 
 less heavy than that of the farmer fifty years ago. 
 
 John's theory of life was, that every human being 
 should be required to do his share of labor in the world, 
 and thus he rose and went forth in the dewy freshness 
 of the early dawn, without feeling aggrieved that his 
 morning slumbers were cut short ; and if the hours of 
 labor were unduly lengthened, he realized more fully 
 the injustice of those conditions which require one class 
 of men to labor so unremittingly that every possibility 
 of intellectual and soul development is destroyed, and 
 which free the other from all share in the responsibili- 
 ties of life to such a degree that they grow forgetful of 
 their duties to the world, and indifferent to the suffer- 
 ings of humanity. 
 
 John was very sensitive upon this point, and was so
 
 LIVING AS BROTHERS 31 
 
 just to his men, and interested himself so intimately in 
 their well-being, that the neighboring farmers quite gen- 
 erally accused him of spoiling his help, and putting 
 false ideas into their heads. John, however, believed 
 that it would do no man harm to know that he has a 
 right to those three precious privileges, guaranteed to 
 every citizen by the Constitution of our great country, 
 life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness ; and while he 
 could not appreciably shorten the hours of labor of his 
 men, nor pay them more than the market price for their 
 toil, he lost no opportunity of impressing upon their 
 minds the fact that he considered the amount of labor 
 required of them excessive, and the wages far too low. 
 He also placed freely at their disposal all the books and 
 papers in the house, and during the noon hour, or in the 
 evening, when the day's duties were ended, he consti- 
 tuted himself a bureau of information, and was often 
 astonished at the questions asked, and the desire for 
 knowledge aroused in men who, perhaps, never before 
 had felt the stimulus of awakening thought. 
 
 John had a theory that change of occupation was 
 often as refreshing to the body as sleep, and therefore 
 believed that he did his men no injury by tempting 
 them from slumber on the beautiful summer nights, 
 when the moon rode high and pale in the translucent 
 sky, and the fireflies were glittering all over the prairie, 
 like sparks from a world of fallen stars. When the dis- 
 cussion prolonged itself till ten or eleven o'clock, there- 
 fore, he did nothing to shorten it, and smiled to see the 
 men say good-night, looking far less weary than when 
 they had stretched themselves for a siesta after supper. 
 Everything in the universe was talked about in these 
 discussions, and John delighted in leading the men to 
 tell of their own past lives and experiences, gaining as 
 much profit himself from the knowledge of human
 
 32 WHICH WINS 
 
 nature thus obtained, as did the men from the inspira- 
 tion of a sympathetic audience. As Mrs. Thurston had 
 foreseen, foreigners were most numerous among the 
 help, and as each one told of his life in a country strange 
 to the others, and of the vicissitudes of fortune which 
 had driven him to the New World, all realized with new 
 force that fate was teaching them in much the same 
 school, and that the mysterious kinship of a common 
 humanity bound them together. One of the "hands" 
 was a Russian, and had strange stories to tell of nihilis- 
 tic plots in which he had been engaged, and which had 
 made him unpopular with the officers of the government ; 
 another was a German socialist, who never wearied of 
 telling of Bismarck's oppressive measures, and lack 
 of sympathy with the people's cause. The corps of 
 workers fluctuated. Sometimes they were all ignorant 
 peasants, and, again, they were men who had grown 
 bitter against the world and God, on account of their 
 own sufferings; but John usually succeeded in making 
 friends with all of them, and learning some lesson from 
 the mystery of their lives. 
 
 During harvest time" John employed the largest force, 
 and in the evenings, after the work was over, he liked 
 nothing better than to get them to singing, for Mrs. 
 Thurston had brought her piano to the farm with her, 
 and was not averse to hearing it even when it accom- 
 panied the men's voices. John was something of a 
 musician, and if he discovered any musical taste among 
 the employees, was quick to encourage it, thus putting to 
 a practical test Ruskin's ideas as to the value of art and 
 music as civilizing agencies. He sang choruses with the 
 men, which they enjoyed greatly ; and the popular songs 
 of Germany, France, Sweden, and Russia, were not un- 
 heard in these assemblies. Many of them John noted 
 down with interest, and never failed to express his grat-
 
 THE JOY IN BEING JUST 33 
 
 ification at the privilege of hearing them. Die Wacht 
 am Rhein, the Marseillaise, and America, usually finished 
 off the concerts ; and at one time John had a Tyrolean 
 among his men, who possessed a beautiful tenor voice. 
 He had been a shepherd in his mountain home, and 
 could sing many pretty Swiss songs, but especially the 
 true Alpine Yodel, which he gave to perfection. As the 
 evening drew to a close, there was generally a unani- 
 mous call for Pierre, and the wild, strange, Swiss melody 
 rang over the still Nebraska prairie, as effectively, per- 
 haps, as it had once echoed among the lonely Alpine 
 heights and icy passes, whose spirit it seemed to voice. 
 
 These evenings at Thurston's farm could not fail to 
 rouse an echo among the neighboring homesteads ; and 
 many a farmer who had come to John to protest against 
 his method of managing his men, fell into a' way of 
 coming over with his wife to spend the evening, and an 
 informal debating society was thus formed, which prob- 
 ably did more for the introduction of humanitarian ideas 
 into the community than any one would have dared 
 prophesy. Many people countenance injustice simply 
 because their attention has never been called to it, and 
 go on living at the expense of others' deprivation, not 
 knowing that there is any want or pain which they 
 could redress. A man who has grown habituated to 
 considering his employees beasts, incapable of human 
 feeling, forgets that there is a spark of the divine in 
 all of us sadly in need of nourishment ; but demonstrate 
 the fact to him, and his conscience is aroused not only 
 for the good of others, but for his own spiritual wel- 
 fare, which he is generally surprised to learn needs look- 
 ing after. The farmers also were inclined to look upon 
 John's notions of social reform with growing tolerance, 
 since they were obliged to respect him as a farmer. His 
 fences were always in order, his fodder corn was higher
 
 34 WHICH WINS 
 
 than that of any one else, his grain promptly harvested, 
 his cattle were sleek and well cared for, and they knew 
 that the master did his day's work as conscientiously as 
 any of his workmen. 
 
 One of John's neighbors who was not so easily recon- 
 ciled to his theories, however, was a German named 
 Leifert, who was something of a character in his way. 
 He had six daughters all grown, the youngest being fif- 
 teen, and the eldest on the shady side of twenty-five, as 
 near as any one could discover. As he had no sons, he 
 brought up his daughters to do the work of the farm, 
 and never was obliged to hire extra help, except during 
 harvest time, when he invariably paid his men less than 
 any one else and made them work longer, holding over 
 them as a spur the marvelous feats of his daughters, 
 who, he was accustomed to say, could do more work than 
 any ten men he ever saw, though they were " nothin' but 
 vimmen." 
 
 He came over one morning ostensibly to borrow 
 John's harrow, but in reality to " talk a leedle sense " 
 into him, as he expressed it. The harrow secured, 
 Leifert, a big, burly German, with twinkling black eyes, 
 who had grown stout on the laoor of his daughters, 
 began cautiously, 
 
 " Thurston, vot for you makin' so much trouble mit all 
 de mans round here ? " 
 
 " Why, how is that ? " asked John in surprise. " I 
 didn't know as I had made any trouble." 
 
 " Ya, ya, you pe makiu.' trouble all de time," replied 
 the visitor with some heat. " I vant to git a man oder 
 day to help mit my wege tables, und I say I never bay no 
 more as seventy -five cent, und 'he say as how Thurston 
 say as how dem vas starvation waches, or somedings like 
 dot, und he don't do it, und I say as how ven gals like 
 mine vorks for nodings, he pretty lucky to git seventy-
 
 ANOTHER SET OF PRINCIPLES 35 
 
 five cent, und I dinks you ain't got no pizness puttin' 
 notions like dot in no man's head vot ain't got no land, 
 und got to vork fur's livin'." 
 
 "Well, Leifert," said John amicably, "I'm sure I 
 don't want to do any harm, but I can't keep my tongue 
 still always, and you see, the minute you recognize in- 
 justice you set people to thinking." 
 
 " Oh, you make me dot rasend mit such talk ! " cried 
 Leifert in a great rage. " Vot pizness haf a man got 
 say in' how much he git ven he ain't got nottin', I like 
 to know ! I like to hear my gals talk dot vay, I shust 
 like to see 'em ; und dey vorks all day und all night, and 
 never gits von cent." 
 
 "Well, Mr. Leifert," said John, "if I should come 
 over to call on you, the first thing I should do would be 
 to tell your girls they ought not to think of working for 
 an old fellow that won't pay them, if he is their father." 
 
 " Ya I you shust dare to come arount my blace, I like 
 to see you dere ! " cried Leifert, his wrath growing 
 almost beyond his power of expression. "Gott in 
 Himmel ! I set my dog on you quick ! " 
 
 "But, Leifert, put the case to yourself," replied John, 
 brushing down the side of a fine short-horned calf with 
 affectionate care. " HOAV would you feel if some fellow 
 should get you in his power and make you work hard for 
 him day and night, and pay you nothing, even grudge 
 you .board and clothes maybe ? " 
 
 " Oh, you mind your pizness, und let me be ! " cried 
 Leifert, doubling up his fists and dancing on both feet 
 in his endeavor to restrain an almost unconquerable 
 inclination to knock John over and tear his heart out. 
 " You mind your pizness, I say. My gals is mine, und 
 I like to know if a man ain't boss in his own family, 
 und vot does vimmen folks know about money anyhow ? 
 Dey shust goes und spends all de geld dey gits."
 
 36 WHICH WINS 
 
 " But they have a right to if they earn it," responded 
 John coolly. "Don't you do as you please with your 
 money ? " 
 
 " Gott und Hinimel ! " cried Leif ert. " Ich bin ein 
 Mann! you vant me to ask meine frau if I kin spend 
 some money ? Dem darned vimmen folks dey fights me 
 all de time anyhow. How you tink I come out if I 
 don't let 'em know who's boss ? " 
 
 " Well, you'll come out all right if you try my plan/' 
 replied John. " My mother and I, now, AVC never have a 
 word." 
 
 " You mean to say you never fights ? " asked Leifert 
 incredulously. 
 
 " Fight ? " cried John, " why, we never think of such 
 a thing." 
 
 " Well, I like to know how you does it, really now," 
 exclaimed Leifert, drawing nearer to John, his mouth 
 wide open with astonishment. 
 
 " It's the simplest thing in the world," said John mov- 
 ing to the other side of the calf with his brush. " You 
 know, women are a great deal smarter than men, and can 
 manage much better if you will let them, and they can't 
 help being cross when they see us doing things in such 
 a foolish, extravagant sort of a fashion. They know 
 how much more wisely they could plan it all. So just 
 let them have their way, and they make us happy, and 
 every thing goes on swimmingly. Now there's my 
 mother," continued John; "she manages every thing, 
 and I'm simply her man. That's the reason we prosper, 
 you see." 
 
 Leifert had moved around to John's side as he talked, 
 and was gazing at him with open-eyed astonishment. 
 " She own all dis, all dem cows und dings ? " he asked 
 with a Avave of the hand which was meant to include the 
 entire place. John nodded as if he had said nothing 
 unusual.
 
 LEIFERT'S OPINION 37 
 
 " You bay her all de moneys vot you makes ? " con- 
 tinued Leifert, apparently struggling with his incredulity. 
 
 " Of course. How can I help it when it's all hers ? " 
 responded John, polishing the calf's horn with supreme 
 indifference to his companion's state of mind. 
 
 Leifert stood still a moment, evidently making a 
 gigantic effort to master his emotions. " Say," he said 
 finally, " I heard you vos von fool, but you de biggest 
 fool I ever see. You goin' to get married some day, 
 ain't you ? " 
 
 " Why, yes, I hope so," replied John, laughing, " if I 
 can find any one to have me." 
 
 " You know vot you git ? " continued the German 
 solemnly. " You ain't got no sense at all ; your f rau 
 she murder you in your bett some day. You haf to keep 
 'em down, see ? Keep 'em down, or you can't, do nottin' 
 mit 'em." And so saying, Leifert marched off in much 
 excitement, forgetting all about the harrow in his disgust 
 at the strange doctrines he had heard. 
 
 John, however, continued to rub down his short-horn 
 calves, polish their horns, and comb out their tails. He 
 enjoyed caring for the gentle creatures, and often won- 
 dered as he looked into their soft eyes, how much intel- 
 ligence there responded to his care for their comfort and 
 welfare. 
 
 This morning, however, other thoughts were filling his 
 mind, and as he walked back and forth, pausing now 
 and then to watch the flickering sunlight dancing on the 
 floor, his fancy ran on in the channel suggested by 
 Leifert, and he smiled to himself as a certain fair face 
 was pictured in his mind, and a possibility which made 
 the face no stranger in his life seemed not unthinkable. 
 He hummed unconsciously the bars of a Chopin sonata, 
 as he passed and repassed in the flickering sunshine, and 
 a future in which music and love and freedom colored
 
 ~38 WHICH WINS 
 
 all the days and sweetened the nights, opened fair vistas 
 to his mind, dissolving distances of that happiness which 
 comes of unselfish living and pure thinking. 
 
 Ah, Parsifal ! life would be worth living if its prizes 
 were won as easily as your fancy captured them for you 
 that summer morning ; and humanity would turn saint 
 at small cost to itself if the rewards of virtue and high 
 thinking were as palpable as you would have made them. 
 But through many dreary days must your thoughts re- 
 turn to that morning in the sunny stalls, and to the 
 vision of pure delight which grew before you, circling 
 around the lady of your dreams. Keality may grow very 
 bitter to you, but the glamour of the vision will never 
 fade, and never can, though the face which was the cen- 
 tre of it be framed in pain and disappointment.
 
 MRS. THURSTON AND THE FARM 39 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 MRS. THURSTON AND THE FARM 
 
 MRS. THURSTON'S views of the farm, and her enjoy- 
 ment of it, were very different from John's. She en- 
 dured far more hardship than her son, since it was often 
 impossible for her to obtain any assistance in her house- 
 work ; and though John helped her and saved her as much 
 as he could, still he was not able to save her from a great 
 deal that was new and unforeseen in her experience. 
 
 One of her greatest trials, perhaps greater than the 
 arduous labor she was obliged to perform, was the for- 
 eign help she was compelled to see around her ; and in 
 harvest time, when the men were numerous and rough, 
 and of all nationalities, her sufferings culminated. She 
 was accustomed to say that she never expected to speak 
 decent English again, after the polyglot language to 
 which she was forced to listen constantly; and for a 
 woman who understood no tongue but that of her native 
 land, and looked upon all others with small respect, it 
 was indeed a trial to hear it maltreated on every hand, 
 and made to illustrate daily new deformities in speech. 
 Her efforts in its behalf were heroic, but it is to be feared 
 they were of slight avail, save for the comfort they 
 afforded her. Carl was always her first and foremost 
 affront, but after him the history of the farm was to her 
 a dissolving view of Swedes, Norwegians, Russians, Irish, 
 Italians, French she congratulated herself that they 
 had no Turks and no Chinamen, feeling sure that the 
 burden of her alien woes would be complete, if these 
 were added to the throng.
 
 40 WHICH WIN& 
 
 Among the Russians who appeared and disappeared 
 at various times, was one whom Mrs. Thurston looked 
 upon with ill-concealed distrust, as a Nihilist, for John 
 had told her, in a moment of inadvertence, that Rabo- 
 schez was an exile. Raboschez had called himself a gen- 
 tleman in his own home, and evidently was so much one 
 that he did not know how to do anything to earn a liv- 
 ing, and had not yet gotten over a serene contempt for 
 those who did. He had a way of keeping Sunday, 
 among other things, which annoyed Mrs. Thurston ex- 
 ceedingly. She suspected him of having left a lady-love 
 behind him in the old country, " who of course must be 
 a Nihilist also," cried Mrs. Thurston. The reason for 
 the good lady's suspicions lay in the fact that Raboschez 
 would invariably bathe on Sunday, anoint his hair freely 
 with bear's grease, and then come down and ask her for 
 a little fine writing-paper, only he invariably forgot the 
 word for writing-paper, and would finish his sentence 
 with a spluttering Russian word, which, as Mrs. Thurs- 
 ton said, frightened her nearly out of her wits. 
 
 It was, in fact, a chronic habit with Raboschez to for- 
 get words ; and Mrs. Thurston, knowing that the race of 
 which he was the representative, has a special gift for 
 languages, believed that this apparent forgetfulness was 
 a treacherous pretence. 
 
 " He is a Nihilist," she would exclaim to John warmly, 
 "and how can you tell what he is saying when he breaks 
 out in that crazy way and goes to talking Russian ? You 
 may be sure he is plotting treason, or trying you with a 
 secret password, or setting some trap for you. A Nihil- 
 ist is capable of anything." 
 
 "But, mother," John would respond argumentatively, 
 " what would be the use of his talking treason to us ? 
 He is far enough away from Russia, and we are not a 
 noble family, you know."
 
 MRS. THURSTON AND THE NIHILISTS 41 
 
 "Well, he means something," Mrs. Thurston would 
 reiterate solemnly. " The other day at the table he 
 wanted some bread, and he began, ' Will you bleeze don- 
 nez-moi the ' and then he stopped and looked all around 
 the table I'll warrant you one of these fellows is a con- 
 federate of his and then he said something in Kussian, 
 you can't make me believe it was only the word for 
 bread ; why, the Ta and the r's and the z's were rattling 
 for two minutes, it seemed to me." 
 
 "But what could he say that would do any one any 
 harm, mother ? " asked John, laughing. 
 
 " Why, he might be proposing to burn the house down, 
 or cut our throats, or just as like as not he is a secret 
 agent that the Nihilists have sent over to corrupt the 
 country," replied Mrs. Thurston, looking quite pale with 
 consternation. "Really, John, you'll have to get rid of 
 him, for I sha'n't sleep in peace a moment while he 
 stays. I shouldn't wonder if the house were undermined 
 and filled with dynamite this minute." 
 
 And in fact, Mrs. Thurston's distaste for Kaboschez 
 was so uncontrollable, that the poor fellow discovered 
 it himself, and, coming to John one day, told him he 
 thought that he would have to move on, since "the 
 madame," as he designated Mrs. Thurston, disliked him 
 so much. 
 
 The poor lady's real tribulations with her own help, 
 however, were as painful as the imaginary ones she 
 suffered from the foreigners. She tried all kinds, and 
 came to the conclusion that all were equally undesirable, 
 for they were either slovenly and incapable, or didn't 
 " know their place ; " " their place " being an indefinite 
 locality in Mrs. Thurston's ideal world, so far removed 
 from her own position as to preclude all possibility of 
 human sympathy, and all interchange of interest. The 
 model servant, in the lady's eyes, was an automaton
 
 42 WHICH WINS 
 
 which always bowed and spoke at the right moment, 
 and never presumed to have either feelings or opinions, 
 at least in the presence of its mistress ; and in compari- 
 son with this imaginary being, continual contact with un- 
 trained humanity, which knew nothing of the advantage 
 of being born and bred in New York City, and accus- 
 tomed to the best society, was intolerable to Mrs. 
 Thurston. 
 
 "The idea of having to explain to people what you 
 are ! " she said to John one day, " shouldn't you think 
 those creatures would realize their own condition, and 
 know the difference between it and that of a lady ? " 
 
 " You see, mother," explained John, " our democratic 
 theory of government is very demoralizing. These peo- 
 ple hear that in America all men are equal, and it takes 
 them some time to learn the distinction between being 
 equal in theory and practice." 
 
 " Well, they had better learn it," cried Mrs. Thurston 
 irascibly ; " but I don't want the burden of their instruc- 
 tion, I must say." 
 
 " They are learning it fast enough, mother," said 
 John with a little sigh, " and it's a bitter lesson to some 
 of them. In spite of their coarseness they are human, 
 and it's hard to feel that there is no place on the face of 
 the earth where somebody won't 'put them down/ on 
 account of the accident of birth." 
 
 Mrs. Thurston looked at her son with great disdain. 
 " Well, John," she cried, " I knew you had crazy ideas, 
 but I didn't suppose they would ever lead you to uphold 
 those low people in impertinence to me." 
 
 One day, in despair, John rode over to a poverty- 
 stricken neighbor, named Watson, and persuaded one 
 of his daughters to come and assist his mother in her 
 labors. But that unfortunate and ill-advised inspiration 
 was the last straw upon Mrs. Thurston's burdens.
 
 IS A SERVANT HUMAN 43 
 
 "John," she exclaimed in deep disgust, "I would 
 rather do my work alone forever, than have a servant in 
 the house who must be treated as an equal. This girl is 
 an American, and she will expect me to eat with her 
 first, and then after she has washed the dishes, entertain 
 her." 
 
 " Well, mother, you know she is a farmer's daughter, 
 and 'just as good' as we are, so you must be a little 
 patient with her peculiarities," said John, willing to put 
 the best face upon the matter, as usual. 
 
 " Patient ! " cried Mrs. Thurston, " much you know 
 about what patience these creatures demand. What do 
 you suppose the girl asked me before she had been in 
 the house a day ? " 
 
 " I'm sure I never could guess," responded John. 
 " Perhaps she wanted you to give her music lessons." 
 
 "Well, that would be bad enough," continued his 
 mother, " but just imagine, she wanted to know if I had 
 my dresses made in Omaha, and how often I had to 
 bleach my hair ! " and Mrs. Thurston's eyes looked so 
 dangerous that poor Maggie would have dared no more 
 questions if she had seen them. 
 
 " The girl is actually pretty, too," continued her mis- 
 tress in a tone of great anxiety, " and some of these men 
 will be falling in love with her, you'll see." 
 
 " But, mother," interrupted John mischievously, " I am 
 sure that would be only natural." 
 
 " Natural, indeed ! " replied his mother, " I should 
 think you would see that it would be the height of im- 
 prudence and foolishness for any of these men to fall in 
 love with Maggie. What do such vulgar people know 
 about love, anyway, John ? " she concluded, with an air 
 of being exhausted at the faults which poverty-stricken 
 humanity would be guilty of ; " if they knew more about 
 it they wouldn't catch it so promiscuously."
 
 44 WHICH WINS 
 
 As they talked they were standing by the open win- 
 dow of the dining-room, where Mrs. Thurston was wash- 
 ing up the breakfast cups and saucers ; and as they 
 looked out, Maggie was coming from the barn where she 
 had been to look for eggs, and Raboschez, who had come 
 in from the fields for a jug of water, walked beside her 
 and insisted upon carrying her basket. Maggie's laugh 
 rang out as they walked slowly on, and Raboschez was 
 gesticulating and talking eagerly. 
 
 " There ! see that ! " cried Mrs. Thurston. " That man 
 has no difficulty in making her understand him ; and the 
 first thing you know, she'll be in league with him. I'll 
 warrant you he is not throwing any ten-syllabled words 
 at her either." 
 
 John laughed, as he usually did at his mother's extrav- 
 agances, but his laugh was not very hearty. He knew 
 from the strained and querulous tone of her voice, how 
 rasped and wearied she was by this contact with condi- 
 tions which she could not understand, and was not young 
 enough to grow into. The grief of knowing also that it 
 was for his sake she had insisted upon facing this new 
 life, gave him a pang he would fain have been free from ; 
 and he thought with increased regret of her pleasant 
 home in New York, and those even surroundings and 
 conventional acquaintances, neither of which ever sug- 
 gested a query as to their reason for existence or per- 
 manence. 
 
 Mrs. Thurston, however, was not one to yield to the 
 inevitable without a struggle ; and she undertook to 
 give Maggie some lessons in etiquette which filled that 
 young woman's soul with gall and wormwood. 
 
 " I'm not to speak to you unless you speak to me first, 
 indeed ! " she cried indignantly, " and I'm not to play 
 ' Money Musk ' on the piano, though I kin play it as good 
 as anybody ! and it ain't polite to ask questions about
 
 MRS. THURSTON'S PHILANTHROPY 45 
 
 people's hair, and where they git their dresses made ! 
 I'll jist let you know, Mrs. Thurston, I ain't beholden to 
 nobody, an' if I want to work out I'll find folks that ain't 
 quite so particular as you be." 
 
 And Maggie marched off, bag and baggage, spreading 
 far and wide the story of Mrs. Thurston's " highfalutin' " 
 notions and " stuck-up " ways, and giving that lady a 
 reputation for bad-tempered and unchristian principles, 
 which would have filled her with horror if she could have 
 heard and understood. 
 
 Mrs. Thurston, in fact, was haunted by an undefined 
 feeling that something in her intercourse with Raboschez 
 and such " low people " was wrong ; but what it was, she 
 could not comprehend. She meant to be kind to every- 
 body, and was conscientiously desirous of considering 
 the best interests of all with whom she came in contact ; 
 but it never occurred to her that people whom she in- 
 stinctively classed as belonging to the " vulgar herd," 
 could know their own best interests better than she did, 
 with all her social advantages, back of her superior cul- 
 tivation ; while the fact that they should object to re- 
 ceiving advice and remonstrance from her own " higher 
 plane," was quite incomprehensible to her. 
 
 " It's a great pity that ignorant people should be so 
 unwilling to be taught," she remarked frequently to 
 John. And this unwillingness to be taught became as- 
 sociated in her mind with all ignorance, until it engen- 
 dered a bitter feeling toward the unfortunate unlettered, 
 and convinced her that they were stubbornly determined 
 to remain in the condition where fortune had placed 
 them, and pull the rest of the world down to them. She 
 regarded John's interest in his men thereafter with re- 
 newed disfavor, and was inclined to agree with Leifert 
 that he spoiled them by putting foolish notions into 
 their heads.
 
 46 WHICH WINS 
 
 " You can't raise those people ! " she cried irritably, 
 when the subject came up much to John's disquiet; 
 "show me a servant-girl that ever became anything 
 higher in an honest way, and I'll have more confidence 
 in your visionary theories." 
 
 Maggie, however, had the distinction of being her 
 chief bete noire for some time, and the parable from 
 which she drew many lessons. 
 
 "Maggie," she said, when the moment finally came 
 for them to separate, "you know a lady who has had all 
 the advantages of the world and society should be looked 
 up to by a poor girl like yourself, aside from all differ- 
 ences of fortune." 
 
 " Well, Mrs. Thurston ! " cried Maggie," it takes all sorts 
 o' folks to make a world ; an' when I sees them as never 
 remembers they come into the world the same as me, an' 
 hez to go out'n it the same, an' is made o' flesh an' blood, 
 then I keeps ez fur from 'em ez I kin, fur they don't do 
 me no sort o' good."
 
 THE STRUGGLE FOR EXISTENCE 47 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE STRUGGLE FOR EXISTENCE 
 
 JOHN'S greatest trouble after the first year of farm life 
 was that he could not make the business pay. He had 
 wondered somewhat upon first coming to Nebraska that 
 most of the farmers did not look more prosperous, hav- 
 ing supposed that farming was a safe and reliable pur- 
 suit, in which the profits, though small, could be depended 
 upon. He remembered the cautions in regard to his 
 venture which had been given him by several business 
 men before he went West ; but which he treated with a 
 young man's supreme contempt for other people's expe- 
 rience, and thought nothing of. 
 
 During his first year, he was not surprised that no 
 income rewarded his labor ; though, in fact, the proceeds 
 of the farm did not begin to pay its running expenses. 
 He felt that he was learning a new business which might 
 contain mysteries of profit and loss still unexplained, and 
 hoped to cast up his balance more satisfactorily another 
 time. Then, too, his crops were not very good, and he 
 suffered a scarcity in which all in the neighborhood 
 shared ; for blighting weather had visited that part of 
 the country, to the destruction of agricultural interests. 
 The next season, however, "growing weather" prevailed ; 
 crops were luxuriant, and John discovered that his grain 
 brought such a low price in the market, that it did not 
 pay the cost of production. This result was so unex- 
 pected that it set John to thinking seriously, and to 
 questioning his neighbors more closely than he had
 
 48 WHICH WINS 
 
 dared to do before. The discoveries he made surprised 
 him so much that he felt at a loss what to do. 
 
 "Mother," he said to Mrs. Thurston one day, as he 
 found her paring apples by the kitchen fire, "do you 
 know that the farm doesn't pay at all ? " 
 
 " Why, John, I've heard you express dissatisfaction at 
 the prices you get for things," replied Mrs. Thurston ; 
 " but I didn't know it was so bad as that." 
 
 "Yes; it's just as bad as that," responded John rue- 
 fully ; " if it were not for your New York bank account, 
 we'd be beggars, pretty nearly." 
 
 "Why, John, how you talk!" exclaimed Mrs. Thurs- 
 ton quickly. "We'll have to economize if that's the 
 case." 
 
 " Well, it costs us about as much to live here on this 
 place, as it did to live quietly as we did in New York," 
 said John ; " and I can't quite understand why it is all 
 outgo and no income, especially as every one else in the 
 neighborhood seems to be in the same box as ourselves. 
 It looks very much as if we would have to burn our corn 
 this winter ; and as for wheat, mother, it doesn't pay to 
 sell wheat for forty or fifty cents a bushel when it takes 
 only ten bushels to make a barrel of flour, and that barrel 
 costs us seven dollars and a half." 
 
 "But, John, I don't understand how things can be so," 
 said Mrs. Thurston. "Your grandfather farmed in New 
 York State, and he was a gentleman and well-to-do, one 
 of the first men in his county ; and I don't see why you 
 shouldn't succeed as well, unless it is," she added, 
 "you haven't his business faculty." 
 
 John made no answer, but he wondered if the business 
 faculty in himself was missing, or if the business faculty 
 in the whole country had suddenly become dormant, and 
 was making successful private enterprise an impossi- 
 bility.
 
 JOHN'S INITIATION 49 
 
 That year he tried raising seeds for some of the great 
 Eastern seed-houses, instead of his usual grain crop ; but 
 he found that it required so many hands to care for the 
 crop, and so many men were trying the same experiment 
 on account of failure in other crops, that the price of 
 seeds fell ominously low, and again he had no profit. 
 Then he tried market-gardening, sure that this would 
 prove successful ; but he saw that it was not profitable 
 to ship his fine fruits and vegetables to distant markets 
 with existing railroad rates, and that his product glutted 
 the market of the small town near which he lived, since 
 it seemed there were not enough people with means 
 to buy his fine melons and strawberries at a living 
 price. 
 
 " Men are starving in portions of the world not far off, 
 in fact, just about us," said John to himself, many times 
 in those days; "and yet I cannot sell my share of the 
 fruits of the earth ; why is it ? My corn is certainly 
 not on my hands because too much has been grown ; for 
 in that case no man would be without it, and yet I see 
 no way of effecting a distribution which will fill the 
 stomachs of the needy and give me a profit." 
 
 One day he went over to Leifert's, on an errand, and 
 arrived just as the family were sitting down to dinner. 
 The six girls of the household always had a melancholy 
 effect upon John. They were so big, so coarse and so 
 loud-voiced, so frankly capable of pitching hay and 
 hoeing potatoes, and of nothing else, that some hidden 
 aesthetic feeling in him rebelled against them. More- 
 over he had always a conviction that they were victims 
 of their father's greed, and with their natural endowment 
 of independence and vigor, might have developed into 
 such fine creatures if they had only been given an oppor- 
 tunity. The youngest, Marie, was just putting a dish of 
 corn-bread upon the table as John entered. She was
 
 50 WHICH WINS 
 
 less sun- and toil-hardened than her sisters, and therefore 
 perhaps John felt the fate which seemed to stretch and 
 darken before her, more keenly, and the warmth and 
 cordiality of her greeting touched him at once. 
 
 "I am afraid I have come at an inopportune time," 
 began John, glancing at the table. 
 
 "Not a bit, not a bit!" cried Leifert. "Ve ain't 
 mooch to eat, but you be velcome to shust vot ve got, 
 Mr. Thurston. Marie, pring anoder blate, und a knife 
 und vork fur de shentleman." 
 
 John drew up a chair for fear of offending his hosts, 
 though he felt it doubtful whether he could eat a mouth- 
 ful. The repast certainly was not appetizing. Salt pork, 
 floating in a liquid deluge of fat ; hard corn pone, and 
 thick black coffee were its components ; three essentials 
 which John had observed formed the diet of most of the 
 people in the neighborhood. 
 
 "Mr. Leifert," he asked somewhat hesitatingly, for 
 fear he might seem to reflect upon the limited char- 
 acter of the meal before him, "do you never raise vege- 
 tables?" 
 
 " Nein, nein," replied Leifert ; " ve not mooch fur 
 greenstoof ; ve must vork to make our bennies, you see, 
 und my gals dey haf not time to cook und plough 
 too." 
 
 " But it doesn't take much time to raise a little sweet 
 corn and a few tomatoes for the family, and it adds so 
 much to your comfort," insisted John. 
 
 " Ya, ya, dot do werry well fur rich mans like you, 
 Meester Thurston," responded Leifert ; " but poor folks 
 like us, ve lives mighty close, mighty close, und dere is 
 nodings vot cost so leedle as corn pone und pork, dot's it, 
 see ? " And Leifert lifted a large slice of fat to his 
 mouth, launched it successfully, and wiped his lips with 
 apparent appreciation.
 
 THE UNIVERSAL MORTGAGE 51 
 
 " And don't your farm pay you any better living than 
 that ? " asked John, with some anxiety. 
 
 " De farm he bay werry bad," explained Leifert ; " he 
 bay wuss und wuss all de time ; ve muss eberyting sell, 
 duck und chicken und egg und milk, und eberyting, 
 und den ve shust makes no livin' at all, lives like de pigs 
 vot ve eats, dot's it." 
 
 " But I don't see why that is," replied John thought- 
 fully ; " there are plenty of people to eat what you raise, 
 if they could only get it ; and they ought to pay for what 
 they eat, I am sure." 
 
 " Ya, dot's it ! dot's it ! " cried Leifert excitedly. " Dere 
 is beobles comin' und comin' all de time. Dey takes up 
 de land, und work so sheap dey raise so mooch sfcoof you 
 can't git nodings. Dese damned Irish und Franzosisch 
 und all dese oder mans, dey make so many farmers, ve 
 can't git nodings fur our stoof, und ve haf to bay de 
 most fur eberyting. So ve can't do no more as bay de 
 intrust on de mortgage." And Leifert brought his fist 
 down on the table with a thud and accompanying scowl, 
 which boded no good to the " Franzosisch" who he evi- 
 dently believed were at the bottom of his misery. 
 
 " Have you a mortgage on your farm, then ? " asked 
 John, in surprise. 
 
 " Oh, ya, who haven't got ein mortgage ? " exclaimed 
 Leifert, in an exasperated tone, passing his cup for 
 another allowance of the thick black coffee. " If I had 
 a poy," he added sourly, "ve might bay it off; but vot's 
 a man to do mit all dem vimmen folks ? " 
 
 John glanced around at the " vimmen folks," to catch 
 some look of reproach in their heavy eyes ; but, appar- 
 ently they were too much accustomed to such deprecia- 
 tion to take umbrage at it. Only Marie looked up and 
 exclaimed, " Oh, father ! you know we do more than 
 ten boys, you've said so many a time."
 
 52 WHICH WINS 
 
 "Nein, nein," replied Leifert, as he rose slowly from 
 the table, wiping his mouth with his coat-sleeve; "ye 
 kin vork like steers, but ye can't blan nodin', ye ain't 
 got no men's heads on ye to help a man out." Aud with 
 the air of a man who never dreamed of having his opin- 
 ions disputed, Leifert took his hat and stepped out into 
 the yard, followed obediently by five of his amazon 
 daughters. 
 
 Marie remained behind, and John watched her sym- 
 pathetically, as she stepped briskly about the untidy 
 kitchen, putting away the scant remains of the dinner ; 
 and caring for her mother, who was almost helpless from 
 excessive corpulence, and who sat in the doorway throw- 
 ing corn to the chickens, which clustered about the 
 steps. 
 
 It was a squalid, unattractive scene, and the girl 
 seemed altogether better than her surroundings ; would 
 she ever rise above them and out of them, he wondered, 
 away from the discouraging atmosphere of masculine 
 detraction in which she lived ? 
 
 As he stood thinking behind the fat old woman, his 
 hands in his pockets, Marie's voice suddenly struck his 
 ear. 
 
 " Does your mother want a girl, Mr. Thurston ? " she 
 asked quickly. 
 
 " Why, no, Marie, I think not," replied John, looking 
 at the girl's rather uncared-for and rough exterior, with 
 an instant conviction as to what would be his mother's 
 verdict in regard to it. "You don't want a place, do 
 you ? " he added. " I should not think you could be 
 spared." 
 
 "Well, I'll have to be spared!" replied Marie, a dark 
 flush rising to her cheeks, " there's five besides me, and 
 father needn't think I'll stay and slave and starve for 
 him like the rest. I'll make a way for myself somehow ! "
 
 MARIE'S DETERMINATION 53 
 
 " It's hard, Marie," said John, looking sympathetically 
 about the place, and then back to the girl's moved face. 
 " It's hard, especially for a girl." 
 
 " Yes, there you are, just like all the others ! " cried 
 Marie bitterly, "but I tell you I'm a-goin' to let folks 
 see I kin do somethin', ef I was born a girl ! " and Marie 
 stood with folded arms looking sullenly out across the 
 prairie, as if fate might lie there, and must be conquered 
 at any cost. 
 
 " Marie, you be so bad, so bose," cried her mother 
 peevishly ; " since sie ging to school sie ist so discontent 
 alle weile, alle weile," she added explanatorily to John. 
 "Es ist nicht gut fur wimmen to to know mooch " 
 she concluded, turning her fat little eyes upon John as if 
 in depreciation of any wisdom which might lurk in them 
 unsuspected. " Marie she good-lookin' gal," she added, 
 throwing a handful of corn to a chicken fluttering hope- 
 lessly on the outskirts of the greedy crowd of fowls, 
 " sie konnte git married, aber sie, sie hat so viele 
 notions, you see." 
 
 John turned from the scene with an odd feeling of 
 suffocation. The girl really had aspirations then, and in 
 that place ! Lifting his hat he turned away, and mount- 
 ing his horse rode slowly over the prairie toward the 
 cottage of Maggie's father, who had squatted on one of 
 the great farms of the neighborhood. 
 
 As he rode on he could not drive away a haunting 
 consciousness of the misery and squalor of the house- 
 hold he had just left ; of the dawning ambitious in 
 Marie's mind, which would be so difficult to realize, so 
 impossible, as he reflected, shaking his head. But under 
 all, and through all, there was a horrible growing sense 
 of consternation. Supposing, through any unforeseen 
 accident, his mother's bank account should fail, what 
 would keep his own household from sinking to the same
 
 54 WHICH WINS 
 
 condition of hopeless poverty as the one he had just left ? 
 With a shudder John remembered the monstrous woman 
 with her fat eyes, her dirty hands, and querulous voice. 
 And yet, what kept his lady mother from being a crea- 
 ture of that sort ? John shuddered, realizing suddenly 
 the effect of education, of surroundings and opportunity 
 as he never had before ; and it seemed to him that his 
 own culture and ease had been almost a sin, in face of 
 the world's misery. 
 
 He rode on across the prairie more because no impera- 
 tive business drew him from the absorption of his own 
 thoughts, than because he had any especial destination 
 in view. During the last few months he had drifted 
 back into much the same train of thought as that which 
 had especially occupied him at Berlin ; or rather he had 
 been driven to it, by observation of the life about him, 
 and of the struggle to keep one's head above water, which 
 seemed to be so universal. For some time previously, 
 his interest in the farm, and his effort to become familiar 
 with its management, had led his thoughts into more 
 objective and practical channels, and he had troubled less 
 about humanity and its possible destiny ; but lately all 
 the practical experience of living seemed concentrating 
 into a pained realization of the deeply ingrained wrong 
 which was evident in the condition of society, and 
 which it seemed to him no superficial reforms could 
 touch. 
 
 " I'm growing to be a regular crank, I'm afraid," he 
 thought to himself as he rode along. " I'll have to go off 
 somewhere, and get new experiences, or I shall be morbid 
 and narrow ; " and John sighed a long sigh as his gaze 
 searched the prairie, and he envied those anchorites of 
 the olden time who withdrew themselves from the world, 
 and thus avoided its responsibilities as well as its 
 temptations.
 
 AN AMERICAN EVICTION 55 
 
 Something which, caught his eye in the distance, how- 
 ever, made him quicken his pace perceptibly. He was 
 nearing the cottage of Maggie Watson's father, and an 
 unusual occurrence was evidently going on there, judg- 
 ing from the little crowd gathered about, and the presence 
 of a neighbor whom he knew to fill the office of constable 
 for the surrounding district. As John approached, he 
 saw the Watson family gathered in a little circle around 
 a modest heap of household goods which constituted all 
 their earthly possessions. Watson was talking angrily 
 to the constable, and Mrs. Watson sat on an old chest, 
 holding in her arms an infant which had not known 
 many days of earthly misery, while Maggie, her eyes 
 swollen with weeping, was trying to still the cries of 
 three or four little children who clustered about her. 
 It was a sharp October day, and John noticed how thin 
 the shawl was which Mrs. Watson had drawn around 
 herself and the puny baby, and in a moment he had 
 sprung from his horse and thrown his overcoat over her 
 shivering shoulders. 
 
 " Why, Watson ! what does this mean ? " he asked, 
 " what has happened to you ? " 
 
 Long Watson, as he was generally called, was a tall, 
 thin, cadaverous-looking man, with pale eyes and hay- 
 colored hair, and a general appearance of having suffered 
 years with the shaking ague ; though, as ague is said to 
 be unknown in Nebraska, his pallor must have been 
 attributable to some other cause. 
 
 "It's just this, Mr. Thurston," replied Watson, ex- 
 citedly, "that this here country of ourn ain't no free 
 man's country, no more ! When a honest man can't 
 keep a roof over his head, an' has to have the constable 
 turn him out, I say it ain't no free country ! " 
 
 "Yes, Watson, you kin talk all day, but ye know 
 very well ye ain't no kind o' business squattin' on
 
 56 WHICH WINS 
 
 other folks' land, air ef ye'd V gone off when ye was 
 warned, ye wouldn't V ben fired ! " interrupted the 
 constable. 
 
 " Why, are you turned out because you can't pay rent 
 for that miserable hovel ? " asked John in surprise, 
 looking at the shanty which the Watson family had 
 occupied. " I didn't know such a thing was possible in 
 this country ! " 
 
 " Well, ye see, sir," began the constable, apologetically, 
 " Mr. Bingham he owns forty thousand acres around 
 here, an' he won't have no squattin' nohow, an' Watson 
 couldn't pay no rent, an' he's ben warned off often 
 enough, an' he ain't nobody to blame but his own self for 
 this here." 
 
 " I'd like ter know how a man's a-goin' ter pay rent 
 when he can't git nothin to eat but taters," interrupted 
 Watson vindictively ; " that's all we've had fur a month 
 back, an' all we could git, an' ef I'd 'a' had a gun," he 
 added, fiercely, " ye wouldn't 'a' got me out o' that there 
 shanty nohow, 'thout ye set it afire ! I've ben drove out 
 once before, an' I said then 'twouldn't happen agin with 
 me livin', but it has all the same ! " and Watson lowered 
 his head on pretence of adjusting the bridle of the lean 
 old mule, by which he stood, and blew his nose with a 
 suspicious resonance as a plaintive wail from the weak 
 little baby struck his ear, and he saw his wife press it 
 close to her shivering bosom, in a vain attempt to still 
 its cries. 
 
 " How long have you been exposed to the weather in 
 this way ? " asked John with a wild feeling that he 
 would like to set fire to the universe in order to warm 
 Mrs. Watson and the baby. 
 
 "They turned us out before dinner," said Maggie, 
 beginning to sob again at the recollection, " an' the 
 baby only a week old, an' mother that weakly she kin
 
 A DIET OF RAW POTATOES 57 
 
 hardly stand, an' Johnny sick with the croup last 
 night " 
 
 " But can't you find some shelter ? " cried John in 
 amazement ; " have you no place to go, no friends ? " 
 
 "Poor folks ain't got many friends," said Maggie 
 bitterly. " Father he swore he'd go back in the house, 
 'cause he wouldn't see his folks die on the prairie ; an' 
 the constable an' his man they's jest ben a-fighting of us 
 all day." 
 
 " But couldn't you build a fire at least for the baby ? " 
 asked John, horrified at such a state of things. 
 
 "There ain't nothin' to build it with, 'thout we burn 
 up our stuff," replied Maggie doggedly ; " the last two 
 days we's et our taters raw." 
 
 John looked over the rolling prairie, treeless like all 
 the Nebraska plains, with a sensation of despair. In 
 this country of rich black loam, the extortions of the 
 railroads made corn cheaper to burn than coal, and these 
 poor creatures had not even corn. His indignation was 
 fast getting beyond the bounds of prudence. 
 
 "I don't know what good reasons you may have for 
 this proceeding," he said, turning to the officer, "but I 
 am sure I never heard of anything more heartless. The 
 idea that a man with forty thousand acres of land, which 
 hundreds of people could get a living off of, turns a 
 little family with a new-born baby out on the prairie ! 
 I'll wager it's the only family on the place, too ; say, 
 now, is there a single household farming on this forty 
 thousand acres ? " 
 
 " Well, I don't know what that has to do with it, Mr. 
 Thurston," cried the constable impatiently ; " the ground 
 belongs to Mr. Bingham, and he farms it to make money, 
 an' I can't see as how it's anybody's business but his 
 own how many folks there is on it." 
 
 " It ought to be some one's business, though, and it
 
 58 WHICH WINS 
 
 will be if such things continue," exclaimed John, hotly. 
 " You come with me, Watson," he added ; " there's a 
 little shanty on my place that will shelter you for the 
 time being, and you shall stay in my house to-night. 
 Get on your mule, and come along with me ; or better 
 still, I'll stay with the children, and you take your wife 
 and baby over to my place with the horse ; they'll die 
 if they're exposed to this air much longer." 
 
 As John turned up his coat-collar and began to assist 
 Mrs. Watson in mounting the horse, she exclaimed in 
 that weak, querulous treble one so often hears in hard- 
 worked women of middle age, 
 
 " But, Watson, ye ben't goin' to leave the pertaters, 
 be ye ? " 
 
 Watson looked wrathfully at the constable, who 
 responded with some heat, 
 
 " My orders is, ma'am, that ye don't take nothin' off'n 
 the place but yer own traps, an' by rights ye oughtn't 
 ter take them, sence ye're owin' of 'em fur rent." 
 
 " An' it's all we hev to keep us from starvin', the hull 
 winter through," said Mrs. Watson, hugging the baby up 
 close to her, and beginning to cry. "They're no good 
 to Bingham, I'm shore." 
 
 " But really, you don't mean to keep these poor people 
 from harvesting their little crop of potatoes ? " inter- 
 rupted John, turning to the constable. 
 
 " I've nothin' to do with it, Mr. Thurston," replied 
 that officer impatiently ; " Mr. Bingham told me the 
 potatoes hed to stay, an stay they must, I s'pose." 
 
 " I laid out all the ground I hed in taters, ye see," 
 began Watson in explanation, waving his hand towards 
 the large field about the house, evidently enriched by a 
 plentiful crop of that edible, " 'cause I knowed they'd 
 keep us in eatin' all winter, even ef they wouldn't sell, 
 an' blamed fine taters they is, I guarantee. I dug a
 
 THE LAW AND THE SQUATTER 59 
 
 cave to bury 'em in over yander, an' I'd 'a' had 'em 
 all harvested ef 'twarn't fur a job I got with a neigh- 
 bor a week back. But now I'm bounced," he added 
 dejectedly. 
 
 " And do you actually mean to keep this poor fellow's 
 potatoes ? " asked John again, hoping to rouse the 
 sensibilities of the constable. 
 
 " If ye had any sense, ye'd see that I can't do nothin' 
 here but obey orders," responded that dignitary, growing 
 irate with a sense of injured innocence, "and I don't 
 see no use in wastin' so much sympathy on trash like 
 this here, no how," he concluded, looking sourly on, 
 while John helped Mrs. Watson on his horse, and saw 
 her ride off across the prairie, followed by her lean hus- 
 band astride the hardly less lean mule. Suddenly a 
 conception flashed upon him of the thing he had done. 
 What would his mother think of the strange cavalcade 
 entering her dooryard, and still more, of their irruption 
 into her proper and orderly household ? He very much 
 feared that her sympathies in the matter would rest 
 entirely with Mr. Bingham, and that she would accuse 
 him of harboring shiftless tramps and encouraging men? 
 dicancy ; for Mrs. Thurston had never been much troubled 
 by a realization of the brotherhood of humanity, and 
 her connection with the Associated Charities of New 
 York had not tended to carry such a sentiment to exag- 
 geration. There was nothing to do at present, however, 
 but let matters take their course, and the baby might 
 touch her heart. 
 
 Meanwhile he turned his attention to the shivering, 
 crying children, and, after a few words to Maggie to re- 
 store her failing courage, they all set out to walk toward 
 the Thurston homestead, preferring not to wait for the 
 wagon which was to rescue the beds and tables from 
 the depredations of the prairie wolves. John adjured
 
 60 WHICH WINS 
 
 the children to think of the warm supper and bright fire 
 awaiting them, and forget the cold ; but they shivered, 
 nevertheless, for in spite of hope and stoicism a wind- 
 blown Nebraska prairie is a chilly spot in October, 
 especially if one has no overcoat.
 
 A PEEP AT NEW YORK 61 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 A PEEP AT NEW YORK 
 
 FATE was drawing Stephen Ward into very different 
 paths from those John Thurston was treading. He had 
 been called home from Berlin by the death of a relative 
 whose heir he was, and who had left him a legacy of 
 thirty thousand dollars. With this fortune in hand he 
 lost all thought of pursuing his education, and deter- 
 mined to go into Wall Street with the hope of increas- 
 ing his small patrimony. By successful speculation, at 
 which his natural shrewdness and love of money soon 
 made him an adept, he very soon succeeded in doubling 
 several times the sum he had inherited, and began to 
 feel himself, at least prospectively, a man of great 
 wealth. 
 
 He did not enjoy New York, however ; he wished to 
 find a field where his money, while it might not increase 
 faster (for he felt that he could make money anywhere) 
 would earlier render him a person of influence and im- 
 portance in the community ; and he listened eagerly to 
 tales of Western enterprise, and of the large percentage 
 to be gained from Western investments. 
 
 " There's nothing like real estate, after all," he said 
 frequently, when speaking of securities, "except mort- 
 gages, that is; for when you've got mortgages, you're 
 pretty certain of real estate," he added, with a meaning 
 smile. 
 
 Two years of life in New York, with access to a 
 fashionable circle, and constantly increasing fortune,
 
 62 WHICH WINS 
 
 Ward had found very pleasant, and he had experienced 
 nothing which would influence him to alter the ideals 
 with which he had left Berlin two years before. In 
 fact, his opinions in regard to wealth and luxurious 
 enjoyments had rather strengthened than otherwise. 
 His pleasure in those things which appeal directly to 
 the senses was more intense, while his longing for joys 
 of an intellectual character had correspondingly de- 
 creased. Whereas formerly he rather prided himself on 
 a fondness for Shakespeare, and a pseudo-critical ac- 
 quaintance with Moliere, he now read Maupassant and 
 Rhoda Broughton ; and though he had some knowl- 
 edge of music, and once took pleasure in airing his 
 appreciation of Beethoven and Wagner or Moskowsky, 
 he could no longer be induced to hear anything heavier 
 than light opera, and demanded that this should be put 
 upon the stage with every accessory of brilliant costum- 
 ing and spectacular effect. 
 
 Though he refused to consider any but material 
 enjoyments, he was not vicious, for economy struggled 
 successfully with self-indulgence, and invaded all his 
 temptations. Instead of leading a fast life, he sat in the 
 luxurious reading-room of the club and read Daudet's 
 " Sappho," in paper covers ; and though his mouth coars- 
 ened and his jaws grew heavy, he prided himself upon 
 leading a pure life, when really his thoughts were profli- 
 gate, and only his pocket was self-restrained. 
 
 He kept handsome apartments, and dined at a fashion- 
 able club, because he took pleasure in luxury, and be- 
 lieved that a display of niggardliness was bad policy ; 
 but watchful eyes noticed that he never asked others to 
 dine with him, and that if he took wine the remainder 
 of the bottle was carefully put away by the waiter and 
 served to him next day. His friends declared that he 
 breakfasted and lunched at unmentionable restaurants,
 
 A FKUITFUL ECONOMY 63 
 
 so far away from fashionable haunts that he was sure of 
 encountering no acquaintances ; that he would not send 
 his washing to a laundry, but employed a poor old 
 char-woman to do it for him, whose life he made a bur- 
 den by the endless repairing of linen, and darning of 
 socks, for which he refused all compensation above the 
 price he had agreed to pay for laundering alone. 
 
 He was an omnivorous reader of newspapers, but he 
 took no periodical himself, and was sure to monopolize 
 the best corner and the most attractive page in the reading- 
 room, to the frequent disgust of other habitues of the place, 
 who suspected his motives, and envied his assumptions. 
 One evening he sat in his usual chair, with a copy of the 
 New York World in his hand; but his fancy had out- 
 soared the printed words before him, and he was lost in 
 a revery suggested by a vivid letter he had been read- 
 ing, descriptive of placer mining in Nevada. Suddenly 
 some one stood before him with outstretched hand. 
 
 " Why, Dysart ! " he exclaimed, looking up in astonish- 
 ment. " Where did you drop from ? " 
 
 " From Kansas City, not long since," replied the other 
 easily. " How are you getting on. in this part of the 
 world ? " 
 
 " Oh, we're never behind the rest of creation in New 
 York, you know," responded Ward. " But, my dear fel- 
 low, I've heard of your town, and of your luck. I sup- 
 pose a man can't help getting rich in Kansas City 
 now ? " 
 
 The new-comer wore that nonchalant air of success 
 and confidence which money seems to give a man more 
 than anything else ; and he soon fell into a graphic de- 
 scription of the peculiarities of the city he had just left, 
 its rapid progress, and the ease with which money could 
 be made there. 
 
 " There is a great deal more romance in our method of
 
 64 WHICH WINS 
 
 speculating than in yours," said Dysart enthusiastically. 
 "Here you go into Wall Street, stand by a 'ticker,' and 
 shudder or rejoice over the announcement of the rise or 
 fall of your stocks ; but with us speculation has all the 
 variety of a tournament in the Middle Ages. First, we 
 watch the movement of a ' boom,' which is almost as de- 
 vious in its passage as lightning, and may take its course 
 along any street. Having guessed its future location, 
 the next point is to buy up the property in the line of 
 its radius; being careful not to warn the unconscious 
 owners of the prospective rise in value. This feat ac- 
 complished, you simply walk out and look at your lots 
 from time to time, and call yourself ten thousand dollars 
 richer to-day, twenty thousand to-morrow, etc., etc. It 
 is no unusual thing for property to sell for ten times its 
 original value in a few months. Meanwhile you see the 
 locality you have selected populate and grow ; fine build- 
 ings go up around your lot, and all you have to do, to 
 grow richer and richer, is simply to ' hold on,' until the 
 simple permanence of dirt and air have made you a 
 millionnaire." 
 
 " But supposing you buy in the wrong locality ? " said 
 Ward, rubbing his hands, and gloating over the prospect 
 with the relish of an epicure before a dish of pate, de 
 foie gras. 
 
 " Oh, well, you mustn't do it, you know," replied 
 Dysart; "and then," he added, pressing his lips together 
 and winking mysteriously, "in a little while, you know, 
 you can direct the 'booms.' Buy up property in a cer- 
 tain quarter, then make a big sale there, people will go 
 crazy immediately ; and if you think the spot not favor- 
 able for permanent growth, unload quickly and with as 
 much noise as possible." 
 
 " I see, I see," remarked Ward, a slow smile parting 
 his rather full lips. " I've been having a touch of the
 
 SOME EVERY-DAY SENTIMENTS 65 
 
 Western fever myself for some time, and your description 
 rather heightens it. I suppose you've been very success- 
 ful yourself, from all accounts," he added inquiringly. 
 
 " Yes ; I haven't lost ground," Dysart admitted, with 
 becoming modesty. " I bought a tract of land on the 
 outskirts of the city some years ago," he continued ; " I 
 got it of country folks who put no special value on it, so 
 I bought it for a mere song. "At present there is a 
 smelter on it, and a large village, most of which I still 
 own," he added, laughing ; " and a good many of the origi- 
 nal possessors now work in that smelter, and growl at 
 me as a bloated capitalist." 
 
 " They forget that they had the same opportunity to 
 bloat as yourself," commented Ward, rubbing his chin 
 with an expression of great self-satisfaction. 
 
 " Yes ; and you see the average man can't bear to have 
 another fellow get ahead of him," said Dysart, changing 
 the large seal ring on his white fingers with much com- 
 placency. " There's nothing that tells so quickly as 
 brains in this world," he added, tapping his forehead 
 significantly ; " and there's nothing so hard to forgive as 
 other people's possession of them, especially if their de- 
 ficiency helps them to get left ; " and Dysart swelled a 
 little with a consciousness of his own intellect, and fin- 
 gered his heavy watchchain as if he were appraising the 
 gray matter in his own cranium. 
 
 Ward was watching him with a new light in his small, 
 sharp eyes. 
 
 " Do you deal in mortgages at all ? " he asked, as if 
 striving to remain undazzled by Dysart's prosperity. " I 
 suppose you consider them good investments ? " 
 
 '' Oh, yes," replied the other with some indifference ; 
 " there are firms that make a specialty of them ; but I've 
 been so much in the swim of regular speculation, that I 
 haven't dabbled much in that line,"
 
 66 WHICH WINS 
 
 " They say the Kansas mortgages are becoming quite 
 a feature in investments," said Ward thoughtfully. 
 
 " Yes, yes, of course," replied the other. " You catch 
 a man with a fever for improvements, or short crops, and 
 put a small mortgage on his farm, and the next thing 
 you know you've got him clean through, even to the 
 shoes on his feet, if you want to take 'em, saigner a blanc, 
 as the French say, eh ? You're sure of your interest for 
 a good while, and a big return on your money, of course ; 
 but I haven't gone into it extensively myself. However, 
 I must be going ; I'll drop in on you again before I leave, 
 old boy, and till then, ta-ta," and the rich Westerner 
 strutted off, breathing prosperity at a rate which Midas 
 and Pluto together could hardly have compassed; and 
 Ward sank back in his chair, a prey to visions which 
 pictured the career of a Croesus, piling up gold with dis- 
 ordered haste, buying with it honor, happiness what 
 could it not achieve in the light of desires so feverish 
 for its possession ? 
 
 For a long hour he sat there ; his head on his hand, un- 
 conscious of all motion, all thought outside of himself ; 
 absorbed in the contemplation of future wealth. At 
 last he rose with a sigh, called for his overcoat, and 
 passed out into the brilliant street. 
 
 He was surprised on consulting his watch to find that 
 it was after eleven o'clock ; but he went on, still wrapped 
 in that dream which is so often an earnest of what real- 
 ities become to us, and barely conscious of the passers-by, 
 who jostled him in their haste, but failed to rouse him 
 from his self-absorption. Suddenly his ear was assailed 
 by a thin, sharp, soprano voice, singing an air from 
 Trovatore, and as he came within the glittering area of 
 a large electric light, he saw a pale-faced, shabbily- 
 dressed woman, standing on the sidewalk, singing with 
 all the power of a pair of lungs which must once have
 
 AN UNEXPECTED ENCOUNTER 67 
 
 breathed the air of Italy, while a little girl beside her 
 shook a tambourine, and occasionally presented it to the 
 hurrying crowd of strangers. 
 
 " Good heavens ! what an outrage on the public ! " was 
 Ward's first thought. " The woman ought to be put in 
 the station. I'll go and find a policeman." 
 
 He stood watching her a moment, however, fascinated 
 by her thin, half-starved face, and the desperate light 
 in her eyes, and wondering what den of infamy she would 
 seek after the conclusion of her concert, for the poor 
 were all rascals in Ward's eyes, when he suddenly started 
 forward a step or two with an exclamation, 
 
 " By Jove! it can't be! Yes, it is, true enough," he 
 muttered under his breath, " I'd know her anywhere." 
 
 A lady hanging on the arm of an elderly gentleman 
 had paused before the shabby singer, and Ward saw her 
 place a coin in the tambourine, while she addressed some 
 questions to the child. In a moment Ward was at her 
 side, and throwing a dollar into the tambourine, he ex- 
 tended his hand, exclaiming, 
 
 " Surely I have the pleasure of seeing Miss Woolcott 
 once more ? " 
 
 The young lady who was tall, and fair, and altogether 
 charming, looked at the stranger with a puzzled air, while 
 she said slowly, 
 
 " Really, sir, I do not remember to have seen you." 
 
 "Probably not," responded Ward, handing her his 
 card ; " but if you will pardon me for recalling myself to 
 your recollection so summarily, I can do so. The pleas- 
 ure I took in hearing you play once in Berlin, has never 
 faded from my memory ; and though I am taking a lib- 
 erty in speaking thus on the street, I felt that if I lost you 
 in New York it would be impossible to find you again." 
 And hesitating for a moment, Ward stood with his hat 
 in his hand, until Miss Woolcott began to smile, and re-
 
 68 WHICH WINS 
 
 plied ; and, introducing him to her companion, permitted 
 him to walk along with them. 
 
 " This is very unconventional, Mr. Ward," she said 
 frankly; "but I remember your name, and knew some 
 of your friends in Berlin, and I am glad of an opportu- 
 nity to thank you for giving a dollar to a poor girl. I felt 
 so sorry that I couldn't give her more, and when your 
 dollar fell into the tambourine, I am sure I was almost 
 as happy over it as the poor thing herself." 
 
 Ward smiled as he reflected that his dollar was well 
 invested, if it had gone to encourage mendicancy, and he 
 did not leave Miss Woolcott until he found out her ad- 
 dress, and received an invitation to call. 
 
 As he returned to his bachelor quarters, and settled 
 himself before the bright coal fire, his thoughts took 
 quite a new and unexpected turn, and a series of possi- 
 bilities wove themselves into a chain which his fancy 
 would hardly have tolerated twenty-four hours before. He 
 thought of Miss Woolcott's fortune, and what a piece of 
 good luck its inheritance had been for her at a critical 
 moment of her career. 
 
 "Twenty thousand dollars is not a bad dowry," he 
 mused, " when one gets with it a girl so beautiful and 
 accomplished as Miss Woolcott. One would not be 
 tempted to take a homely woman with that fortune, but 
 Miss Woolcott would always be a credit to a man's 
 taste, while her music must make her distinguished 
 anywhere." 
 
 " Of course, she'd have to give up playing in public," he 
 reflected, feeling already the marital delights of owner- 
 ship, " I never could tolerate that ; but the very fact of 
 her keeping such a talent for the gratification of her hus- 
 band alone, would make it a rarer privilege to hear her, 
 and reflect more distinction upon her husband. There is 
 nothing like hedging things about with difficulty to make
 
 WARD'S EMOTION" 69 
 
 them appreciated," he added, with a smile which was 
 both cunning and self-satisfied. 
 
 For a long time Ward sat before the fire building a 
 future in the dancing flames, and in the crumbling castles 
 of falling ashes. 
 
 " I believe I'm in love with that girl," he exclaimed 
 at last, slapping his knees with emphasis, " but I must 
 get hold of her money too. I'll find out if there are any 
 restrictions as to its investment. It doesn't bring five 
 per cent now, I'll warrant, and what does a girl like that 
 know about handling money anyway ? She'd give every 
 cent of it to the beggars in no time, I'll venture. It 
 would be a mercy if some one took care of it for her."
 
 70 WHICH WINS 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 WATSON ON THE LAND QUESTION 
 
 THERE are days upon, the farm so idyllic that one 
 remembers them forever after, as glimpses of what the 
 soul can do when it is removed from the noisy whirl of 
 earthly cares and perplexities, the bustle and confusion 
 of city life. John, found many days of that sort, even 
 when the anxieties of how he should make his two ends 
 meet, began to weigh upon him heavily, and there were 
 certain moments in the evening, when the supper was 
 over, and the cares of the day laid aside, when the fire- 
 flies were glancing hither and thither over the prairie, 
 and the night wind stirred the tops of the long grass 
 into a gentle sighing, to which he always looked for- 
 ward. Certain moments in the morning were delightful 
 also, when the sun had just risen, and the world glis- 
 tened in its dewy freshness as if new-born, and the air 
 was so pure and fresh that it seemed almost a desecra- 
 tion to breathe it. 
 
 John threw himself down in the grass sometimes, in 
 a shady corner by the barn, and dreamed dreams and 
 saw visions which, however they may have been scorned 
 by a practical man of affairs, were exceedingly fruitful 
 in spiritual growth to himself. For there are occasion- 
 ally voices in the breeze, and meanings in the waving 
 grass, which the hurried and excited mind must lose, 
 but which are full of significance to him who can stop 
 long enough to seize them. 
 
 John found in these moments of rest and abstraction, 
 that his thoughts flowed on with marvellous clearness,
 
 JOHN'S PHILOSOPHY 71 
 
 and that he saw connections and comprehended mean- 
 ings in causes and events, which had before seemed 
 entirely remote from each other. Sometimes in these 
 periods of abstraction it even seemed to him that his 
 eagerness for the material betterment of humanity was 
 a mistake. 
 
 " Why can't they learn that joy must come from 
 within ? " he cried, " and that material comfort and ease 
 do not bring happiness. And yet we cannot learn that 
 until our bodies have rested long enough to give our 
 minds a chance to rise and grasp the higher spiritual 
 truth in the universe. If I had pounded stone and dug 
 potatoes all my life, I never should have perceived that 
 immunity from such work does not result in happiness, 
 and I suppose a desire for ease and plenty is the nat- 
 ural forerunner of a knowledge which teaches us that 
 these delights are not essential to the well-being of a 
 highly developed human creature." 
 
 The necessity for practical labor, meanwhile, made 
 these moments of spiritual speculation and exaltation 
 comparatively limited in the busy every-day life of the 
 farm ; and John was frequently startled from them by 
 the cry that the cattle had stampeded, or the horses 
 were out of the corral, or by the blowing of the dinner- 
 horn maybe; and though they followed him as an under- 
 current all through his busy life, they never rose to a 
 point of opposition with it, but only sweetened and 
 broadened it, giving it a significance and fulness it 
 might otherwise have lacked. 
 
 His interest' in every one about the place was pro- 
 found and sympathetic ; and he entered as heartily into 
 Carl's love affairs, and his mother's discontent with 
 Maggie's "uppishness," as into his own speculations 
 regarding the voices of the night wind. Since the Wat- 
 son family were domiciled upon the place, Maggie fre-
 
 72 WHICH WINS 
 
 quently filled gaps in the domestic difficulties with 
 which Mrs. Thurston was oppressed, and that lady was 
 divided between disgust at the girl's lack of sense of her 
 real condition, and impatience with her father's " incen- 
 diarism," as she called it. 
 
 " Foreigners ! " she would exclaim with decision. 
 " I'd like to see a German socialist or a Russian nihilist 
 that's more of a dynamiter than that Watson, John. I 
 don't see how you can stand him round the place. It's 
 very easy to see where Maggie gets her notions." 
 
 Meanwhile, nothing delighted " Long Watson " more 
 than talking over social questions with Mrs. Thurston. 
 He would lounge into the kitchen, ostensibly to ask for 
 a glass of water or something of the sort, and, supporting 
 his lank form against the chimney corner, would ask a 
 question or make a remark which, as he expressed it, 
 would "make Mis' Thurston spit fire." 
 
 " I 'spose you think, Mis' Thurston," he said, coming 
 into the kitchen one afternoon to prepare some molasses- 
 and-water to carry out to the field, "as how a man as 
 don't pay no rent, ain't no right to live on a place ? " 
 
 "That's just exactly what I think, Watson, and I 
 don't know a respectable person who thinks anything 
 else," responded Mrs. Thurston, pausing in her process 
 of kneading bread, and answering with great decision. 
 
 "Well, now," began Watson meditatively, "ye see 
 I'm allays a-studyin' about things, Mis' Thurston, an' 
 I've read a good many books here an' there, an' ye know, 
 they do say, as how the earth properly belongs to man 
 to till, an' there ain't no sense in makin' him pay rent 
 fur it. ' Long in Bible times now, ye don't hear o' speki- 
 latin' in land, an' ef a man wanted a piece o' ground, he 
 jist seemed to go an' take it." 
 
 "Mr. Watson!" exclaimed Mrs. Thurston, "don't you 
 go to quoting socialistic doctrines from the Bible. I've
 
 WATSON'S DOCTKINE 73 
 
 heard 'most everything proved from it, but you're the 
 first one to try and make God out teaching Socialism. 
 There's the commandment, 'Thou shall not covet thy 
 neighbor's house ; ' how can you get around that, I'd like 
 to know ? " and Mrs. Thurston stopped with a triumph- 
 ant inflection in her voice, which made one feel that 
 her adversary was annihilated. 
 
 " Oh, well, that's later, you know, I s'pose," replied 
 Watson, shifting uneasily from one foot to the other. 
 " But there's Abram now, you never hear o' him payin' 
 no rent fur grazin' privileges, do ye ? or Noah neither ; 
 d'ye s'pose the Lord took a third o' his crops when he 
 landed on top of Ararat ? Ye see, the furder ye git 
 back, Mis' Thurston, the more ye find that land was 
 common prop'ty, an' the Lord He seemed to feel as how 
 he wanted each one on us to have his bit o' ground to 
 git his livin' off'n." 
 
 " Well, it's just such ideas as those that make tramps, 
 Watson," said Mrs. Thurston, "and if you would put 
 them out of your head, and go to laying up your wages, 
 you'd get along better. You ought to let foolish books 
 alone that you don't understand, and think a little more 
 of your family," she added, putting her bread in the pans 
 with decisive little pats, and turning her back on Watson. 
 
 " Lord now, Mis' Thurston," began that incorrigible, 
 "how's a man a-goin' to lay up money with a family the 
 size o' mine, an' nothin' to live on ? It's thinkin' o' my 
 family that's kep' me pore, I reckon ; ye see, I'm not like 
 one o' them there reg'lar tramps that kin shift fur him- 
 self an' don't keer much ef he comes up hind-side before. 
 I've allays ben a-tryin' to git hold of a leetle land fur 
 the babies, an' no luck a-doin' on't, an' so I keep up a 
 turrible thinkin' all the time, but I s'pose a feller ain't 
 no right to think ef he ain't got a nickel," he added with 
 a rueful glance at Mrs. Thurston's back hair.
 
 74 WHICH WINS 
 
 " You'd better learn not to be covetous, Watson, and 
 then perhaps the Lord will give you what you want," 
 responded Mrs. Thurston piously ; " the Lord doesn't 
 love a covetous man or a grasping man, Watson." 
 
 " Well, them's the fellers that gits along all the same," 
 said Watson with an obstinate sticking to the point that 
 was very exasperating. "I reckon them millionnaires 
 the country's so full of, must 'a' ben covetous when they 
 started out, an' ef money's a sign o' the Lord's love, 
 they'll hev a high place in heaven, an' that there Bible 
 verse about the rich man an' the camel's a bad translation 
 maybe." 
 
 " Watson, it's very wicked to be always judging a man 
 because he has money," remarked Mrs. Thurston sol- 
 emnly; "you laboring men make a great mistake in 
 thinking that a man can't grow rich without being dis- 
 honest. There are plenty of millionnaires who deserve 
 all they have, and give generously to the poor, and you 
 ought to respect them for their liberality and push, 
 instead of being jealous of their success ; for that's all 
 your talk amounts to, it's all pure jealousy." 
 
 " But, Mis' Thurston, it all come from bein' covetous 
 in the first place," exclaimed Watson, returning to the 
 first point, while the feeling in his face deepened until 
 its humor was quite obliterated. "In olden times the 
 land belonged to the hull town, an' there wan't no rich 
 an' no poor, an' a tramp warn't never heerd on, but jist 
 so soon ez folks begun to git covetous enough to take 
 the land fur their own selves, then the tramps begun to 
 git took up, 'cause they hadn't no ground to work no 
 more. Say, Mis' Thurston," continued Watson, "do 
 you want ter know when this here blessed land of ourn 
 was fust took from the people ? " 
 
 " Watson ! " exclaimed Mrs. Thurston, " you go out of 
 my kitchen with your wicked talk, and take that mo-
 
 THE LAND AND THE LAW 75 
 
 lasses-and-water to the men. The idea that the land I 
 bought and paid for doesn't belong to me ! It always 
 did belong to some one, and was bought from the 
 Indians by the white men," she added. " You make 
 me fairly sick." 
 
 " Don't you git mad now, Mis' Thurston," responded 
 Watson, moving toward the door, " I'm a-goin' right off, 
 but jist lemme give ye one fact afore I go." 
 
 "I don't want any facts," cried the lady, coming 
 toward him with a threatening motion of the towel upon 
 which she was wiping her hands. Watson backed out, 
 laughing in great amusement, but once outside, he depos- 
 ited his jug carefully upon the walk, and waiting till 
 Mrs. Thurston was once more absorbed in her domestic 
 affairs, he put his head in at the door. 
 
 "I jist wantter ask," he remarked deprecatingly, "as 
 how ef ye thought as how Henry VII. was a good 
 king ? " 
 
 " Why, I suppose he was good enough ; I don't remem- 
 ber, I'm sure," said Mrs. Thurston, trying to recollect 
 whether she had measured out two cups of flour or three 
 for her biscuits. 
 
 "Well," continued Watson, preparing for a rapid 
 retreat, " it was him as fust 'lowed that a man could be 
 turned out fur not payin' rent, an' that year they hung 
 two thousand tramps in England." 
 
 Mrs. Thurston turned with a sudden upward motion 
 of her floury hands, and Watson fled, chuckling to 
 himself as he ran. 
 
 "Bat ain't it queer," he reflected as he sank into a 
 slower walk, "that them as hain't had an' lost, don't 
 keer to do much thinkin'. Now I reckon ef I hadn't 
 gone an' lost my farm, I wouldn't never 'a' keered nothin' 
 'bout Henry hangin' them tramps : but being one 
 myself, I naterally take an interest in 'em. There's
 
 76 WHICH WINS , 
 
 Thurston now, he told me he hadn't nothin', 'twas all his 
 mother's, an' he knowei all about that there tramp story, 
 an' Henry VII., said 'twas all true, every word on't, only 
 'twas Henry the VIII. did the hangin' ; but I'll wager 
 Bingham, now, wouldn't hear to it, no more'n Mis' 
 Thurston," and Watson shook his head thoughtfully, 
 and hastened his steps as he heard the men calling to 
 him from the field, and wondering if he was waiting for 
 the molasses to freeze. A sarcasm which Watson 
 deprecated by the remark that any feller as knowed 
 molasses, knowed 'twas like philosophy, an' he never 
 could divide 'em ; an' so ef ye sent him after molasses, 
 ye'd know he'd haf ter talk philosophy while he was 
 a-gittin' of it, an' needn't calkerlate on his bein' swift. 
 
 Watson's philosophy was a matter of a good deal of 
 interest to John. He found him, like many other men 
 who have the under side of life, capable of a good deal 
 of earnest thinking, and never forgot the significance of 
 the conversation in which Watson told him how he had 
 lost his farm. 
 
 It was a long story of hardship and toil, including all 
 the anxieties of reclaiming the wild prairie land, and 
 how the struggle ended at last, and Watson found him- 
 self with a good house and a well-stocked farm. 
 Prosperity dazzled him a little perhaps ; at any rate, he 
 borrowed a thousand dollars at ten per cent interest, and 
 then his troubles began. One moonlight night as he and 
 John drove in from Felton, the nearest town, Watson 
 explained the mystery of the tragedy which has over- 
 whelmed so many farmers in the last decade. 
 
 " It wasn't a very large debt, Watson," said John sym- 
 pathetically, " but I suppose you never got it paid off." 
 
 " Paid off," repeated Watson ruefully ; "well, I should 
 say not ; the only comfort I git out'n it, is knowin' jist 
 why I didn't pay it off."
 
 WATSON'S EXPLANATION 77 
 
 " I shouldn't think there would be much comfort in 
 that," remarked John, looking off with delight through 
 the clear silvery distance, to the misty horizon far away, 
 where perception ended and a mysterious possibility 
 began. 
 
 " Oh, there's lots o' comfort in it, 'cause it keeps me 
 from worryin'," replied Watson ; " look a-here now, I paid 
 ten per cent interest on a thousand dollars, that's a 
 hundred dollars a year, ain't it ? Now when I began, 
 ye see, that meant any one o' these yere : eighty bush- 
 els o' wheat, a hundred and sixty-five bushels o' oats, 
 a hundred and twenty-five bushels o' corn, two hun- 
 dred and thirty pounds o' butter, six hundred and fifty 
 pounds o' pork, an' a hundred and seventy pounds o' 
 wool." 
 
 " Did you count that all up before you borrowed ? " 
 asked John, returning from the horizon to scan his com- 
 panion's face with sudden curiosity. 
 
 " Sartin," replied Watson, guiding the carriage out of 
 a deep rut with careful attention. " I was dead sure o' 
 payin' off that ere mortgage inside o' three year. Folks 
 gen'ally is when they borrys money. It's a cur'ous thing 
 how easy 'tis to make money on paper, an' how the 
 times gen'ally busts ye up," continued Watson. 
 
 " But what was the trouble with you ? " asked John 
 gently, for he felt that Watson was revealing something 
 which he did not often speak of, and he respected his 
 confidence. 
 
 " Well, ye see," said Watson, " 'twan't me at all, 'twere 
 the cussed times, I reckon ; they kep a-gittin' wuss an' 
 wuss ; the babies kep a-comin' too ; Lord knows I never 
 did mind the babies, but I kep a-payin' more an' more 
 on that ere mortgage. By an' by I got it renewed fur 
 seven per cent ; but by that time the times was so hard, 
 'stid o' eighty bushels o' wheat, I had to sell nigh two
 
 78 WHICH WINS 
 
 hundred ; 'stid o' the hundred and sixty-five oats, there 
 was four hundred ; it took near fifteen hundred pounds 
 o' pork 'stid o' six hundred and fifty, an' everything else 
 in proportion. Course I couldn't make nothin' pay in' 
 out like that, an' things kep a-goin' wuss, till finally the 
 constable come, an' we left. 'Twere a sad day, I tell ye," 
 said Watson, drawing his cuff across his eyes. " We ben 
 turned out many a time sence, but my ole woman she 
 never got over that fust leavin'." 
 
 " The times are very hard for the poor nowadays, 
 Watson," said John, " and there's no justice in the 
 proportion of blessings society metes out to the starving 
 and the prosperous. People are fond of saying that 
 God's law regulates our kind or unkind fortune, but I 
 don't believe in any such infernal providence as that. 
 It seems to me,- man's selfishness has reached almost 
 the last point of exaggeration. If Christians can feast 
 luxuriously and contentedly while their brothers starve, 
 even help starvation sometimes by the \vages they 
 pay their employees, there is very little of God in it ! 
 But I am talking anarchy, Watson," exclaimed John, 
 breaking off with a short laugh ; " it isn't best to think 
 much in these days ; one gets desperate." And John 
 took the reins, and absorbed himself in driving, which 
 the rough roads made a business requiring some care. 
 
 His thoughts would not be silenced, however ; and the 
 wonderful moonlight which was matchless on these 
 Nebraska prairies, John thought, failed to resume its 
 customary sway over him. Many a night he had driven 
 home under its influence, scarcely knowing whether he 
 had parted company with his body or not, so transformed 
 was the world by the spell of mystical radiance over- 
 hanging it, and so inthralled were the senses by an at- 
 mosphere in which they seemed to gain strange and 
 unaccustomed powers.
 
 THE FACE IN THE MOONLIGHT 79 
 
 The trees tossing gaunt shadowy arms against the 
 silver prairie, did they speak ? or was it merely fancy 
 which fashioned sounds fitted to those weird gesturings 
 into which the breeze enticed them ; and the soft clouds 
 through which the great moon now and then peeped, as 
 though mocking at such vaporous attempts to hide her 
 brightness, were they souls which faded and breathed 
 afresh in ever-nascent forms, or only a chemical re- 
 sultant of moisture and light ? One never stops to 
 question at the moment, the spell of enchantment is too 
 strong for merely human reason, and at such times John 
 forgot everything earthly except one fair woman's face, 
 which found a place in his moonlit dreams, perhaps, 
 because he never gave it any conscious prominence in his 
 real practical life. If it occasionally flitted into his day- 
 time planning, he banished it peremptorily ; and so in 
 retaliation it usurped the moonlight, and gave a 
 seductive color to every cloud-wraith which played saucy 
 pranks with my lady moon. 
 
 This night, however, the face was absent. Watson's 
 story had made the present too practical, too vivid, and 
 dream figures fled before the stern realities which con- 
 jured themselves in John's anxious brain.
 
 80 WHICH WINS 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 WHAT HAPPENS WHEN THE BANK FAILS 
 
 A FEW days afterward John drove to town again, and 
 lie came home with a letter for his mother, bearing the 
 name of her lawyer in the corner. His thoughts were 
 so full of anxious planning connected with the affairs of 
 the farm, that he thought little of the letter, and was 
 therefore quite unprepared for the state in which he 
 found his mother, as he entered the house somewhat 
 later upon an errand. 
 
 Mrs. Thurston was not a woman to give way easily to 
 despair ; but John's remarks some time before upon the 
 financial condition of the farm business had made a 
 deep impression upon her, and a sudden realization of 
 poverty was almost more than she could bear. The 
 letter John brought was from her lawyer, and contained 
 the announcement that the bank in which she held 
 stock in New York City had closed its doors. Mr. 
 Allworth went on to say, that he feared the affair was a 
 bad failure. The bank had been tempted into specula- 
 tion, and had lost heavily by the dishonesty of a trusted 
 officer. He would of course look closely after the inter- 
 est of his client, he said, but he feared there was almost 
 no hope of recovering even a small percentage of the 
 sum she had lost. 
 
 Mrs. Thurston sat down, after she had read the letter, 
 with that dull, cold feeling one has at times, as if one's 
 veins had been filled with lead. Her life had been an 
 unusually quiet and even one, and she never had Con- 
 templated the possibility that she might be visited by
 
 MRS. THURSTON'S MISFORTUNE 81 
 
 losses and misfortunes such as overwhelmed less fortu- 
 nate members of society. She sat down, therefore, with 
 no strength to bear a shock which was utterly unexpected ; 
 and though the morning was a very busy one, and she 
 was in the midst of her preparations for dinner, she 
 continued to sit still, thinking confusedly of what would 
 become of John, of how soon the mortgage on the farm 
 would be due, and, through all the medley of her thoughts, 
 conscious of a dull feeling of God's injustice in visiting 
 this upon her. 
 
 John, coming in, found her thus, quite pale and 
 dazed. 
 
 " Why, mother, are you ill ? " he exclaimed : " what's 
 the matter ? " 
 
 "John," she gasped, handing him the letter, "the 
 bank has failed ! " 
 
 " The bank failed ! " cried John, seizing the letter, and 
 for a moment he stood appalled at the prospect before 
 him. He had put a mortgage upon his farm, and given 
 a note for the major portion of his farm implements, 
 preferring to leave his mother's fortune as largely 
 untouched as possible, and expecting fully that in time 
 he could liquidate all liabilities from the success of his 
 new enterprise. Lately, however, experience had made 
 him very doubtful of this, and he had thought of his 
 mother's comfortable income with deep content, but 
 with a haunting fear of possible misfortune connected 
 with it, which took the sense of surprise from his 
 knowledge of his mother's loss. As he stood shocked 
 and silent, her voice roused him to the necessity of 
 softening the blow to her as much as possible, and he 
 broke forth into reassuring words, which soon made Mrs. 
 Thurston chide herself for having given way to despair, 
 and almost lost the opportunity of making apple pies 
 for dinner.
 
 82 WHICH WINS 
 
 "If the worst comes to the worst, mother," John 
 added as he went out, " we can live more economically, 
 and I don't suppose old Leverson would trouble us about 
 the mortgage if we should be a little slow about paying 
 it off. He hasn't the reputation of being a hard man." 
 
 John's thoughts, however, were far less hopeful than 
 his words. His few years' experience in farming had 
 taught him a severe lesson, as to its financial results ; 
 and he felt that a farmer burdened by an excessive pro- 
 tective tariff, transportation rates which made distant 
 markets an impossibility, monopoly in the grain and 
 cattle markets, and a new system of capitalistic " ranch- 
 ing," with which no man of moderate means could com- 
 pete, offered a crushing phalanx of difficulties, through 
 which victory, in the light of a mortgage paid off, looked 
 very distant indeed. He thought of old Mrs. Leifert 
 with a shudder, and of what his mother's sufferings 
 would be, if limited to the scale of living to which most 
 of their neighbors were reduced ; but he comforted him- 
 self with the thought that he was one of many in the 
 same condition, and that if cheerfulness, determination, 
 and business enterprise could carry him through, they 
 should do so. 
 
 He cut down his expenditures to the lowest possible 
 limit, and only grieved to see his mother stinted in many 
 little luxuries, the loss of which would have been nothing 
 to him, but to her, with the habits of years, and a tem- 
 perament which led her to make much of small things, 
 they meant a far larger proportion of suffering. To go 
 without her cup of fine tea in the morning, the materials 
 for which had been supplied by the same grocer for 
 many years, was a continually recurring sorrow to Mrs. 
 Thurston; but a far deeper pang was that caused by 
 the fact that her Sunday contribution to the church in 
 which she elected to worship must be given up, at least
 
 THE QUESTION OF LIVING 83 
 
 for the time being. John tried to convince her that the 
 Lord, knowing the reason of her failure to give, would 
 not count it against her, and that the many Sundays 
 upon which her envelope had dropped regularly into the 
 contribution box would more than balance her account 
 with Heaven ; but with Mrs. Thurston, the church was 
 much more a thing of conventional propriety, than a 
 representative of spiritual culture, and the weekly sub- 
 scription to its maintenance was rather a patent of 
 earthly gentility, than a symbol of peace with Heaven. 
 
 John could not persuade her to attend the services 
 without making her regular payments, and he saw her 
 pine for the excitement and exhilaration of church-going, 
 with no less pain because he felt sure that she was not 
 losing spiritual food by staying away. He saw that she 
 was growing old rapidly in their changed conditions, 
 and the new cares which pressed upon her ; and the 
 thought that it was he who had brought all this trouble 
 upon her, sometimes seemed more than he could bear. 
 
 Certainly he struggled hard enough to see his way out 
 of his difficulties, but they grew more and more insur- 
 mountable. He felt sometimes that in order to make his 
 farm pay, he must change the entire existing order of 
 society, and that nothing short of a social upheaval 
 could break a chasm through the mountain pressing upon 
 him, yet he shrank from such thoughts as dangerous and 
 misleading. 
 
 He had always been accustomed to look upon the 
 State as the natural guardian of man, holding in its 
 hands as organized man the possible cure of all 
 human ills ; but when he saw the State piling fresh gifts 
 of the people's land upon the railroads, tolerating the 
 growth of a land monopoly which already loomed with 
 dangerous proportions in the future, and governing, or 
 rather misgoverning, the people, through a system of
 
 84 WHICH WINS 
 
 machine politics which never permitted the exponents 
 of the people's needs to enter the representative bodies 
 of the nation, then he found himself wondering how 
 the metamorphosis would ever come about, which should 
 make the people the State, and enable it to govern 
 itself as the heart in a man's body governs the blood 
 which is its life. 
 
 One morning some errand took John over to Mr. 
 Bingham's farm, at a time when that gentleman was on 
 the place, attending to the settlements of his yearly 
 accounts ; and the conversation which transpired did not 
 have a tendency to make the young farmer more con- 
 tented with his fate, or the outlook which the future 
 offered his class. 
 
 At Mr. Bingham's invitation, John stepped into his 
 buggy, and drove with him, behind his high-spirited and 
 finely bred horse, over the magnificent estate, out of 
 which, as he said, he was "coining money." 
 
 "If you find farming pays, Mr. Bingham, you are 
 rather an exception to most of your neighbors," said 
 John, curious to discover the methods of his successful 
 financiering, and anxious also for hints which might 
 lighten the darkness of his own trouble. 
 
 " Oh, well, you see the cases are so different," replied 
 Mr. Bingham, in a tone implying a large tolerance of 
 John's ignorance. "It's impossible in this day and 
 generation to do small farming profitably ; why, with 
 wheat at forty or fifty cents a bushel, and corn at ten or 
 fifteen, the small farmer who has a few bushels of each 
 to dispose of, and ruinous railway rates staring him in 
 the face, is practically a pauper ; but with a business 
 man like myself it is another matter. I can arrange 
 with the railroads to transport my grain where I please, 
 at special rates, and you see immediately the advantages 
 I gain, aside from increased cheapness of production."
 
 THE "BONANZA" FAKMEK 85 
 
 " You have no families on the place, I believe ? " 
 remarked John interrogatively. 
 
 "No, there's another point in my favor. I run the 
 thing by the greatest possible economy of labor. During 
 the winter, five men do the work. In planting-time 
 that force is increased considerably, and during harvest 
 and haying seasons, we have from one hundred and fifty 
 to two hundred and fifty men at work ; but that is 
 never longer than ten days or two weeks, and then 
 much of it is cheap labor. Of course, a regular harvest 
 hand can get from two dollars to two and a half a day ; 
 but the country is full of tramps, who are often willing 
 and glad to work for less than half that price, and the 
 permanent hands, who stay the year through, jump at 
 a chance to get a living, and ten dollars a month besides 
 sometimes." 
 
 " But, Mr. Bingham, those are serf's wages. Do you 
 think it is right to take advantage of a man's misfortune 
 in that way ? " cried John indignantly. 
 
 " What is one to do ? " replied the other, shrugging 
 his shoulders; "these men are simple vermin. They 
 don't deserve more than a subsistence, or they would 
 have it, and I consider that I am doing a humane thing 
 by giving them an opportunity to be sure of a place to 
 eat and sleep, and ten dollars a month besides. I have 
 no difficulty finding people to take that, I assure you, and 
 if I have any sentimentality to bestow, I sha'n't waste it 
 on such vagabonds and outcasts." 
 
 They drove by the men's quarters and the overseer's 
 office. The preceding year, Mr. Bingham had employed 
 an overseer who lived with his family on the place. 
 But the man was a father with three babies, kept one 
 cow for his exclusive use, and altogether the capitalist 
 found it didn't pay. It cost more to keep a family like 
 that, the employer went on, even when the wife did the
 
 86 WHICH WINS 
 
 cooking for the men; he preferred to hire bachelors. 
 Besides, such an overseer couldn't begin to get the work 
 out of the men that the present incumbent succeeded in 
 doing. 
 
 " You turned the other fellow off, then ? " asked John 
 curiously. 
 
 " Yes ; I told him I was running this thing for busi- 
 ness, not for charity, and he'd have to find some other 
 soft spot for his wife and babies." 
 
 " And" where is he now ? " said John, thinking, Avith a 
 slight contraction of the heart, of the tender children so 
 coldly turned away from the green fields and daisies 
 which were their proper home, because, forsooth, they 
 diminished a trifle the profit of a rich man's estate. 
 
 " Surely," he added, after a pause, " they couldn't have 
 made a great difference in your yearly accounts ? " 
 
 "Not very great, of course," replied Mr. Bingham, 
 with the assured superiority of a rich man ; " but it's 
 the principle of the thing. To make money out of a 
 business of this kind, you must regard your own interest 
 as the rule, and force all other considerations to bend to 
 that. If I tolerated many leaks for sentimental reasons, 
 I should find I had no longer a paying investment, and 
 the only safe way is to look at everything from a purely 
 financial standpoint." 
 
 " How many acres have you in this farm ? " asked 
 John meekly, feeling his opinions of singularly small 
 importance at the moment. 
 
 " I have forty thousand," replied his companion ; 
 "fifteen hundred are under cultivation now. I have a 
 thousand or so in hay, and shall turn up a thousand 
 more for wheat this year." 
 
 " But, Mr. Bingham, does it never occur to you that it 
 is a sort of cruelty that all these acres should not pro- 
 vide a home and subsistence for a single family ? "
 
 BUSINESS VERSUS JUSTICE 87 
 
 said John, the color rising to his face, as he felt how 
 absurd his proposition would appear to the plutocrat 
 beside him. 
 
 Mr. Bingham laughed with great enjoyment appar- 
 ently. "Really, Mr. Thurston," he exclaimed, "I 
 believe you are a philanthropist in disguise. What 
 orphan asylum do you want me to subscribe for ? I'll 
 give you a blank check signed," he added humor- 
 ously, " as a token of my appreciation for your skill in 
 canvassing." 
 
 John did not smile. " You must excuse me," he 
 replied, conscious of an uncomfortable sensation which 
 he did not like to acknowledge ; " but I feel so keenly 
 for the sufferings of the poor people in this age, that 
 perhaps I do injustice to what the rich call enterprise. 
 Now, the farming which is so profitable for you, abso- 
 lutely starves out the larger class of small farmers, who 
 ought to form the bone and sinew of every community ; 
 but who cannot begin to compete with the immense 
 opportunity for economic management and proportionate 
 profits, which such gigantic operations give you." 
 
 John spoke earnestly, and Mr. Bingham looked at him 
 with the tolerance of a far-seeing business man for a 
 dreamer, whose ideas may be very beautiful, but are 
 quite unfit for practical application in this work-a-day 
 world. 
 
 " Thurston," he said, " what do you suppose my busi- 
 ness sense was given to me for, if I haven't a right to use 
 it ? You are at liberty to use your talents to the same 
 advantage if you choose, and I sha'n't quarrel with you 
 if you make more money with them than I can with 
 mine. I consider that if I take forty thousand acres of 
 land, and make a fortune out of them, I save a hundred 
 or more farmers from going into bankruptcy thereby, 
 and consequently I am a benefactor to the world."
 
 88 WHICH WINS 
 
 " You simply make tramps of that number of farmers," 
 said John hotly ; " and introduce a method of farming, 
 moreover, which must reduce the whole farming com- 
 munity to a condition of serfdom." 
 
 Mr. Bingham shrugged his shoulders. "The world 
 moves," he said. "Am I to blame for getting some 
 profit out of its rotation? As long as I am perfectly 
 honest and square in all business transactions, I can't 
 see how I am guilty for taking advantage of existing 
 conditions," he added, conscious of some slight feeling 
 of uneasiness from the silence of this odd young fellow, 
 with whose frankness and manly intelligence he had 
 been singularly impressed. He could not understand 
 his attitude or the significance of his ideas, and after 
 turning the matter over quietly in his own mind, he 
 concluded that Thurston's failure to make small farming 
 pay for of course he could not have made it pay 
 had embittered him somewhat, and rendered him a prey 
 to these radical ideas, which he might otherwise have 
 escaped. Mr. Bingham was a good-hearted fellow when 
 benevolence did not interfere with private interest, and 
 he concluded to " let Thurston in," to a certain extent ; 
 to give him some of the benefits of his own system of 
 farming, in other words. 
 
 "Mr. Thurston," he began with some hesitancy, not 
 knowing how to make his offer in the most delicate way, 
 "you find some difficulty in getting a market for your 
 produce, don't you ? " 
 
 " Yes, I do," replied John, with a laugh which was not 
 exactly jovial ; " as a rule, I don't get any market at all 
 for it, that's the fact of the matter." 
 
 " Well, what in the world did you turn farmer for ? " 
 asked Mr. Bingham curiously ; " you don't strike me as 
 a man suited to that sort of business." 
 
 " To tell the truth," said John, " I had no idea when
 
 MR. BINGHAM MAKES AN OFFER 89 
 
 I went to farming, that it is so far from being a paying 
 industry. But, as to being suited to it, I should enjoy 
 it above all things, if I could only make it pay, and I 
 imagine I'm a pretty good farmer." 
 
 " Well, now, see here," suggested his companion ; " I 
 might be of some assistance to you just as well as not, if 
 you will allow me. Suppose you put your grain in with 
 mine, and let me handle the transportation for you. I'll 
 charge you a small commission, so that you'll feel per- 
 fectly independent about it, and it might make things 
 easier for you." 
 
 John listened to the proposition with surprise, and his 
 conscience smote him for the uncharitable thoughts of 
 his host he had been cherishing. The opportunity 
 offered might save the farm and enable him to win an 
 independence, he reflected, and he saw in his mind's eye 
 his wagon-loads of grain pouring into Mr. Bingham's 
 elevator, while he drew therefrom a living price for the 
 produce of the soil. Only a moment the vision lasted, 
 however. John's opinions on the subject of bonanza 
 farming were so strong that he felt as if he would be 
 desecrating his manhood in making money by a system 
 ominous to the interests of a large class of men. His 
 face flushed as he realized that he had tolerated the 
 possibility of such a thing for a moment, tolerated it 
 even with pleasure. 
 
 "Mr. Bingham, I appreciate your kindness in making 
 me the offer," he said, with some difficulty ; " but you 
 must excuse me for saying that I would rather go into 
 bankruptcy with the rest of my class, than grow rich 
 according to your system." 
 
 Mr. Bingham. looked at his companion with growing 
 astonishment. " Look here, Thurston ! " he cried ; " are 
 you a crank, or crazy ? " 
 
 " I suppose I am both, according to your standard,"
 
 90 WHICH WINS 
 
 replied John, smiling; "but, really, I think if you 
 realized what is the condition of the farming interest 
 to-day, you would comprehend why I am so warm over 
 it." 
 
 "Realize it!" responded Mr. Bingham, with a short 
 laugh, " why, don't you suppose I have eyes and ears ? 
 The whole of the farmers in this neighborhood are on 
 the verge of pauperism. 1 went over to Nichols's the 
 other day, whose land joins mine on the south side, to 
 see if I could get him to board my men. I concluded it 
 would be cheaper than boarding them myself on the 
 place ; and what do you think ? The people hadn't a 
 thing in the house but corn meal ! Nichols said he'd be 
 only too glad to take the men to board if he could do it, 
 but he'd have to lay in bacon, flour, molasses, and every 
 thing ; he had no money, and no credit at the store, so 
 he'd have to decline unless I made him an advance on 
 the first week's board to buy provisions. He took the 
 job so cheap, that I was glad to do it," added Mr. 
 Bingham, "and really I don't see how they can make 
 anything out of it, on the terms they agreed to ; but 
 Nichols has half a dozen babies, and I suppose he looked 
 on it as one chance more between them and starvation. 
 But I can't for the life of me see how such a state of 
 things has anything to do with your refusing my propo- 
 sition," concluded John's would-be benefactor; "why 
 should you voluntarily put yourself in Nichols's place ? " 
 
 " I couldn't possibly take advantage of a power that is 
 helping to push Nichols down, Mr. Bingham," said John, 
 pressing his lips together. 
 
 "But it seems to me I'm Nichols's good Samaritan 
 just now," responded Mr. Bingham, apparently feeling 
 a curious interest in John's state of mind. "I'm re- 
 sponsible for the bacon and molasses his children are 
 getting with their corn bread, anyhow," and the bene-
 
 THE RICH MAN'S CHAEITY 91 
 
 factor chuckled as though delighting in his philanthropy, 
 in a way which was almost unendurable to John's 
 strained and half-morbid feelings. 
 
 He wanted to let loose his tongue, and tell this man 
 of luxury how coarse and selfish he was to take advan- 
 tage of a father's love for his helpless little ones, to fill 
 his own pockets ; to ask him if he saw no injustice in 
 reducing Mr. Nichols and thousands like him to the con- 
 dition of serfdom for the farming class which must 
 ensue if something did not interfere to raise ordinary 
 farming to its former dignity as an industry, and lessen 
 the growing encroachments of capitalistic agricultural 
 methods. But as he looked around at the well-fed, self- 
 satisfied face beside him, he paused and bit his lip, feel- 
 ing the uselessness of words to bridge the chasm between 
 himself and the person beside him. "This man has 
 never seen the world outside of himself," he thought 
 bitterly. "He has children of his own, but he never 
 dreams that Nichols's babies are formed of the same clay. 
 It has not occurred to him that one human being has 
 rights which another should respect, or that the robbers' 
 principle of ( get all you can, and keep it,' doesn't found 
 an honorable policy for a business man of the nineteenth 
 century." So he said nothing at first, and then re- 
 marked with a sarcasm which Mr. Bingham did not 
 quite see, 
 
 " It is very fortunate for Mr. Nichols that he fell into 
 the hands of such a philanthropic Christian, I suppose." 
 
 "Well, I am not trying to be specially charitable to 
 Nichols," responded Mr. Bingham, "though some men 
 would have been harder on him, no doubt ; but I will say 
 this much, I'm not a hard man, and nobody gives more 
 liberally to the church and to charitable institutions 
 than I do. I believe in taking care of the poor always." 
 And Mr. Bingham chirruped to his horse with a smile
 
 92 WHICH WINS 
 
 which indicated how well satisfied he was with himself 
 and his methods of doing business, as well as how 
 entirely ignorant he was of the world, and the great 
 needs of humanity for justice and high principle. 
 
 " Christ ! " thought John, as he walked home 
 through the dusk of the evening, " why did you die in 
 the world so long ago, and what must you think now of 
 the lessons men teach as yours ? They use your highest 
 thinking as an excuse for the meanest conduct, and feel 
 themselves at liberty to oppress the poor with a good 
 conscience, because you once said we should have them 
 always with us ! And your church fosters that system 
 of pretentious public giving and secret oppression which 
 you were foremost in denouncing ! I suppose Bingham 
 will square his account with Heaven by building an 
 orphan asylum or a public library for some city," he 
 reflected ; " and console himself for the sufferings of 
 those he has starved to pay for it, by the thought that 
 they are vermin, and ought to be thankful for the privi- 
 lege of dying to provide a more enlightened class with 
 the opportunities of culture ; " and John shuddered as 
 he thought of such a price being paid for Shelley's Ode 
 to Liberty, or Milton's Iconoclastes.
 
 HOW THEY FALL IN LOVE IN NEW YORK 93 
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 HOW THEY FALL IN LOVE IN NEW YORK 
 
 KATHERINE WOOLCOTT found life very pleasant in 
 New York after her years of study. She had a large 
 class of pupils, played frequently in public, and had the 
 entree of a musical circle much to her taste. She had 
 played for Thomas's Orchestra twice during the winter, 
 and said sometimes that she would be perfectly happy if 
 her mother would let her alone. 
 
 Mrs. Woolcott felt that with a fortune of twenty 
 thousand dollars, there was no reason why Katherine 
 should give herself up to the life of an artist, which 
 she considered equivalent to that of a drudge, and she 
 lost no opportunity of preaching to her what she called 
 " practical common sense." To Katherine, however, the 
 life of an artist summed up every joy which the possibil- 
 ities of human existence could compass. Her interests 
 were centred in music alone, and if she had any capacity 
 for loving other things, it had never been awakened. 
 She loved her mother, but it was a fondness which arose 
 more from habit than from any special congeniality ; and 
 aside from this one tie, friends, books, and the world 
 were merely extraneous aids to the comprehension of 
 music. 
 
 One morning, as Katherine sat in her pleasant music- 
 room giving a lesson, her mother entered. 
 
 "Kate," she said, "Mr. Ward is down-stairs, and 
 wants to see you a moment." 
 
 " Mother ! " cried Katherine hastily, " you know I
 
 94 WHICH WINS 
 
 will not see any one during my lesson hours ; why did 
 you not excuse me ? " 
 
 "Well, my dear/' replied her mother deprecatingly, 
 " it's so very important. He says that he has accident- 
 ally been able to procure tickets for that entertainment 
 at the Metropolitan Opera House you have been so 
 anxious to attend, and I thought it wouldn't do to send 
 him away." 
 
 Katherine went down-stairs with a troubled air. Mr. 
 Ward had been very attentive of late, and her mother 
 had let fall several significant remarks in regard to his 
 family and wealth, which had alarmed her daughter, 
 who would never have dreamed otherwise that the gen- 
 tleman's attentions sprang from any motive more serious 
 than friendship or musical enthusiasm. So Katherine 
 went down-stairs intending to be rather brusque, and 
 decline the impending invitation. As she entered the 
 drawing-room, however, Mr. Ward rose to meet her with 
 such an air of frank good comradeship, that Katherine's 
 scruples melted away, especially as the proffer of a box 
 for this particular Wagner opera of Tristan and Iseult, 
 which she had never heard, was practically irresistible. 
 Katherine did not know that this same box was an 
 unexpected windfall to her friend. Ward would never 
 in the world have paid for such a treat, but an acquaint- 
 ance, who was under considerable obligations to him for 
 speculative favors, had placed it at his disposal ; and 
 Katherine, not apprised of this fact, was filled with 
 admiration at his unprecedented extravagance. Her 
 conscience smote her as she went back to her pupil, 
 however, and she resolved that she would show Mr. 
 Ward, in some unmistakable way, that his attentions 
 were not agreeable, a determination which was strength- 
 ened by the consciousness that her mother and the young 
 man might form a combination that she would be power-
 
 KATE BECOMES ENTANGLED 95 
 
 less to resist, for Katherine's temperament was singu- 
 larly yielding in all which concerned herself and her 
 own advantage. 
 
 " Mother," she said, as they were taking their lunch 
 together, " Mr. Ward spoke to me again to-day about the 
 investment of my fortune. When I told him the income 
 we receive from it, he laughed, and said we might just 
 as well have three times as much. I really think I will 
 go in and speak to Mr. Allworth the lawyer about it 
 this afternoon." 
 
 " Do so, by all means, Kate dear," replied her mother 
 eagerly ; " you couldn't have a better financial adviser 
 than Mr. Ward." 
 
 " I'm sure of that, mother," cried Katherine laughing, 
 " I never saw a man so dominated by the mania for 
 riches in my life. And if he hadn't done so many nice 
 things for me, I should call him positively stingy. He 
 accidentally discovered the other day that I receive 
 three dollars a lesson from my pupils ; and when he 
 learned that I had missed a lesson through his visit, he 
 seemed perfectly shocked, and couldn't be persuaded 
 that I cared nothing about it. Three dollars is evidently 
 a large matter to him." 
 
 " But a business man, my dear, looks at the world so 
 differently from an inexperienced girl like yourself," 
 cried Mrs. Woolcott anxiously, " and Mr. Ward is much 
 too well-bred to be stingy. It is quite remarkable for a 
 young man in this day to be so careful and moderate in 
 all things as he is." 
 
 " Oh, he is very good, mamma ! " admitted Katherine, 
 laughing, while she fed her canary bird, which was 
 perched on her white finger, with a bit of sugar, " but 
 he always leaves a metallic taste in my mouth. I can't 
 help it." 
 
 Mrs. Woolcott looked a little shocked, but Katherine
 
 96 WHICH WINS 
 
 kissed away her reproving words, declaring that if she 
 ever fell in love, it must be with a violinist and a 
 beggar ; for what would be the use of marrying if one 
 couldn't get a perpetual accompanist at the same time ? 
 and matrimony would never be attractive to her, unless 
 it had no worldly reasons to recommend it. 
 
 Mrs. Woolcott sighed, and shook her head. It had 
 always grieved her that this daughter, so beautiful and 
 gifted, should have no position in the social world ; and 
 she looked forward to the marriage, which she was sure 
 Kate might just as well make, to rectify all the mistakes 
 of adverse fortune. She gloried in the thought that 
 her darling was actually going to sit in a box at the 
 Metropolitan Opera House, and took pleasure in seeing 
 that her gloves and opera cloak were in perfect order, 
 shaking her head dolefully as she reflected that Kate 
 would never know whether she had any gloves to 
 wear! 
 
 Miss Woolcott had been besieged by many lovers, but 
 Mr. Ward was the first one of whom her mother fully 
 approved. His predecessors had been mostly musicians 
 and artists, of undoubted talents and very limited bank 
 accounts, who could not make a living for themselves, 
 let alone a wife, in Mrs. Woolcott's opinion, and whom 
 Katherine was always inviting to dinner, because she 
 suspected them of living on crackers and water, from 
 the sudden collapse of an exchequer perennially weak. 
 
 Mr. Ward, however, was a person of an entirely dif- 
 ferent character, and in spite of her own profound 
 admiration for Katherine's talents and beauty, Mrs. 
 Woolcott never could quite understand why Mr. Ward 
 had selected her as the object of his attentions, when 
 she had neither large fortune nor social position ; and 
 she therefore credited him with more liberality and free- 
 dom from prejudice than he perhaps deserved, having no
 
 MR. WARD MAKES UP HIS MIND 97 
 
 conception of the type of masculine who is so anxious 
 for undoubted pre-eminence in the family, that he will 
 select a wife by preference a trifle less well endowed 
 than himself in worldly goods, so that he may always 
 keep her openly under obligations to him for her social 
 position. 
 
 The evening of the opera, Mrs. Woolcott prepared a 
 dainty little supper to be served on Katherine's return, 
 an event which was all but spoiled by the fact that the 
 young lady was so absorbed in the recollection of some 
 portions of the opera she had just heard, that she quite 
 forgot to invite Mr. Ward in, and had not her mother 
 accidentally opened the door for them herself, he would 
 have gone away quite rebuffed. 
 
 As it was, however, the evening ended charmingly, 
 and if there had been any doubts in Ward's own mind 
 as to his intentions, they ended then and there. Kath- 
 erine was happy because she had enjoyed so much, and 
 good-tempered because her thoughts were still so full of 
 the music to which she had been listening, that no 
 element of the outer world could make more than a 
 faint impression upon her. Ward watched her eagerly 
 as she sat with her opera cloak thrown back, bringing 
 the roundness of her white arms and throat into strong 
 relief by its scarlet background. Her canary came and 
 perched upon her shoulders, roused by the lights and 
 bustle at so unusual an hour: and she fed him with 
 dainty bits of sugar and cake from the table, stopping 
 every now and then to hum a passage from the opera, 
 and declaring that he understood it. Then the cham- 
 pagne was excellent, and though Ward reflected that it 
 was a horrible piece of extravagance in Mrs. Woolcott 
 to give it to them, he actually forgot all about the pos- 
 sible price when Katherine poured him out a glass, 
 adjuring him to drink to the gallantry of Tristan. Ward
 
 98 WHICH WINS 
 
 rose then to the exigency of the moment, and bowing 
 over the fingers of his lady fair, vowed that he would 
 drink only to the charms of Iseult. Something in his 
 voice and in the warmth of his eyes startled Katherine 
 from her absorption, and she set her glass down un- 
 tasted, and went over to the piano, trying to recall, by 
 aid of the keys, the spell of the wonderful music which 
 threatened to leave her. 
 
 But Ward did not mind this indifference. He had 
 carefully considered his own position and Katherine's. 
 He realized the yielding, impractical tendency of her 
 temperament, and while he had no idea that she would 
 ever love him very desperately, he felt sure she would 
 not refuse the offer of his hand. He rather preferred 
 that she should not love him too much, in fact, for it 
 made his courtship more interesting, without adding 
 uncertainty to the result. So he enjoyed everything to 
 the full, the dainty supper, the soft lights, and the 
 beautiful woman whom he intended to take for his own, 
 all adding their proper proportion to the gratification 
 which he allowed to steal over his senses. 
 
 " It's quite like like Maupassant, is it not ? " he 
 said to Mrs. Woolcott, with a glance of appreciation at 
 the scene about him. 
 
 " Why, really," said Mrs. Woolcott, a little shocked, 
 " I never read Maupassant, I am sure, Mr. Ward ; isn't 
 he a trifle well broad ? " 
 
 " Oh, I beg your pardon ! " cried Ward, feeling sud- 
 denly that his remark was not exactly in consonance 
 with the safe and truly admirable character he wished 
 to represent, " I only meant the surroundings, you 
 know, the Bohemian effect of the supper, the music, 
 Miss Woolcott's playing over in the dark. You see, I 
 am a creature of such regular habits that this little 
 affair is quite a dissipation for me," he added virtuously,
 
 A YOUNG WOMAN WITH IDEALS 99 
 
 "and therefore I enjoy it hugely. Miss Woolcott is 
 absolutely beautiful to-night, is she not ? " 
 
 Mrs. Woolcott followed Ward's gaze with all a 
 mother's fondness ; and truly Katherine was lovely as 
 she sat, her absorbed face turned half toward them, and 
 the scarlet cloak still hanging from her shoulders. 
 
 "I am afraid you will think she is not very courteous, 
 Mr. Ward," remarked Mrs. Woolcott, somewhat anxious 
 over Katherine's neglect of her guest, "but she is so 
 fond of music." 
 
 " Oh, I understand that," replied the young man, not 
 ill pleased at the lady's solicitude ; " I am very glad that 
 I was able to give her so much pleasure," and Ward 
 swelled a little, quite forgetting that he had paid nothing 
 for the opera box, which figured so largely upon this 
 interesting occasion. 
 
 A few moments later, he crossed the room to say 
 good-night, and Katherine let her fingers lie a little 
 longer than usual in his clasp. Are there any Tristans 
 nowadays, she thought, as she looked into his little gray 
 eyes, or are they all like this young man, wrapped in 
 dreams of practical success, and personal aggrandize- 
 ment ? A sudden consciousness of the difference be- 
 tweeen the ideal in her thoughts and the young man 
 before her made her draw away the hand he held, hastily, 
 and turn to the piano ; yet she could not have defined 
 the momentary repulsion she felt. There was a lack of 
 harmony somewhere, beginning with Ward, in the outer 
 world, and there her analysis ended for the time being. 
 Later, when her mother uttered her customary pane- 
 gyrics upon his moderation and good taste, she hardly 
 heard her. 
 
 " I don't care anything about his moderation, mother," 
 she said, dreamily, as she let down her hair. " If a man 
 is great, he is usually a little unbalanced, and apt to go
 
 100 WHICH WINS 
 
 to excess in some direction. I should like to know an 
 individual who could forget all about himself in enthu- 
 siasm for a cause which would not advance him person- 
 ally. Like the music of Tristan," she added, pausing a 
 moment to hum the strain which always accompanies 
 the hero in the opera. " Of course Tristan only forgets 
 himself for Iseult; but that music could forget itself so 
 unselfishly for any cause." 
 
 Mrs. Woolcott remarked anxiously that she had better 
 go to bed, or she would have a headache in the morning. 
 Katherine's odd remarks always made her nervous, and 
 strengthened her determination to get her safely married 
 to some steady man at all hazards. 
 
 As she laid her head upon her pillow that night, she 
 fancied Katherine at the head of an establishment of 
 moderate and careful elegance, evidencing the best of 
 taste. Her music was given up professionally ; several 
 children clustered about her knees, attended by nurses 
 in white caps. She had grown stouter, and her eyes 
 no longer had that misty look of gazing into the future, 
 which always gave her mother the fidgets. She no 
 longer played Wagner in the dark, oblivious to the 
 presence of a wealthy young man who seemed to have 
 intentions. Oh, horrors! she had degenerated to a 
 degree which ought to have satisfied the most sordid 
 and commonplace of souls; and her mother smiled peace- 
 fully as she slept.
 
 DEBT AND DISAPPOINTMENT 101 
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 DEBT AND DISAPPOINTMENT 
 
 As the months went on, John began to make prepara- 
 tions for his spring planting, and he found that one of 
 the first requisites was money to carry on the farm till 
 the crops came in. There was no income from New 
 York now, to fall back upon, and there was no surplus 
 from last year's crop ; and so John saw himself forced 
 to give a mortgage upon some of his stock, which he 
 felt sure he could pay off one way or another in the 
 autumn ; but, however that might be, there was nothing 
 else to do at present. The interest of the mortgage 
 must be met at any cost, and John thought with terror, 
 meanwhile, of the possibility of a failure of his crops 
 in the fall. 
 
 He was getting along with less help than formerly, 
 and hoped to do his planting this year with meiely the 
 assistance of Carl, and Watson, who had proved himself 
 invaluable to John in these latter days. John worked 
 harder himself, and though he thought he had always 
 done his share, he began to find out that the life of a 
 poor farmer who utilizes every moment of daylight to 
 accomplish his meed of toil, is not exactly conducive to 
 high thinking or original inventiveness of any kind. 
 He thought often of Millet's paintings in those days, 
 and realized the meaning of that look of stolid endur- 
 ance he was so fond of depicting upon the faces of his 
 peasants ; and he found himself discovering the same 
 look upon the countenances of his neighbors and his
 
 102 WHICH WINS 
 
 workmen sometimes. Carl had it, he thought, without 
 a doubt. 
 
 Poor Carl ! he had expected long ago to have a cottage 
 of his own, with Gretchen presiding over it, in the rich 
 new country ; and he would not be persuaded to send 
 for her at first, before that happy expectation could be 
 realized. Gretchen would think he was not sharp, he 
 said, if he could not get a farm for her. She was too 
 proud to be a common workman's wife, and she would 
 not believe that they were deceived, and it was really 
 hard for a poor man to get on in America. So Carl had 
 the blues, or "sulked," as Mrs. Thurston called it, and 
 flirted with Maggie by turns, until at last Gretchen sur- 
 prised him by writing that she had saved up her wages, 
 and was coming to America to help him buy a farm. 
 Carl had let his wages run on, thinking they were safer 
 with "Meester Chon" than with himself, and John 
 being called upon thus suddenly was considerably " put 
 to it," to raise the money to pay him. Carl concluded 
 to meet Gretchen in Omaha, and find work for both in 
 town, for he felt that his experiment in the country 
 would not be considered a very paying one by far-seeing 
 Gretchen. 
 
 There was no place for Gretchen on the farm, more- 
 over, for Mrs. Thurston could no longer afford to keep a 
 girl, and if it had not been for Maggie's occasional help, 
 would often have sunk under her burden. 
 
 In those days, Watson was a great comfort to John. 
 He found his ready philosophy always cheering, and his 
 humor amusing. After Carl left he took his place ; and 
 it seemed to John, did the work of two men, though he 
 always pretended not to be doing anything. He never 
 failed to stop in the kitchen to ask Mrs. Thurston if she 
 had any jobs for him, remarking, " Ye see, Mis' Thurston, 
 men folks is sich a lazy lot, it's the born duty o' you
 
 THE BREAD AND BUTTER QUESTION 103 
 
 women to find somethin' fur 'em to do ; " and thereupon 
 he would proceed to carry all the coal and water she 
 could possibly need for some time to come. 
 
 One day as they were bringing in the teams at dinner- 
 time, Watson suddenly remarked, 
 
 " Mr. Thurston, d'ye know, I'm kind o' thinkin' o' fol- 
 lowin' arter Carl, an' goin' to town." 
 
 " Why, how's that, Watson ? " exclaimed John in dis- 
 may. " What put that into your head ? " 
 
 " Wai, I'm thinkin' there ain't nothin' doin' in the 
 country in winter time, an' Maggie, she's jist dead set fur 
 the town," replied Watson. "So I reckin when fall 
 comes I'll jist pull up an' move along toward Omaha." 
 
 "But, Watson, do you think it's wise to go to the 
 towns ? " remarked John. " The men are nocking there 
 from all over the country, and it seems to me you stand 
 a better chance here." 
 
 "Wai, Mr. Thurston," responded Watson, "I've an 
 idee that ye won't stay on this yer farm very long 
 yerself, an' after ye go 'tain't likely no one else would 
 let me stay in that there shanty 'thout payin' rent, an' 
 so I think I'll git out in time." 
 
 " But, Watson, what makes you think I won't stay on 
 the farm ? " asked John in some surprise. 
 
 "Wai," said Watson slowly, "ef ye've got money, ye 
 ain't a-goin' ter stay vegetatin' here much longer, makin' 
 nothin', an' ef ye hain't got money, ye'll hev ter git off 
 afore long, fur I don't see how yer goin' ter make no 
 livin' off'n this yer farm. Ye can't sell nothin' but 
 butter'n eggs nohow, an' yer mother's jist plumb wore 
 out." 
 
 John assented sorrowfully to this last proposition. 
 " But don't you think, Watson," he added, " that things 
 will pick up a little in the fall ? We'll have a splendid 
 crop from the present outlook."
 
 104 WHICH WINS 
 
 "Crop nothin' ! " cried Watson, bitterly. " Wot's the 
 good of a splendid crop with corn ten cents a bushel ? " 
 
 " But corn may not be ten cents a bushel next fall," 
 said John. 
 
 " Wot'll make it higher ? " replied Watson, snapping 
 his whip in a way which startled his mules so unpleas- 
 antly, that they broke into a brisk trot. " Is taxes any 
 lower, is money any plentier, is there any fewer folks 
 a-starvin', I'd like ter know ? hear tell o' them Pennsyl- 
 vany miners performing an' you'll think corn won't be 
 wuth nothin'." 
 
 " But what has that to do with the price of corn ? " 
 asked John, delighted that Watson was fairly astride of 
 his hobby. 
 
 "Wai," said Watson, flicking a fly from the side of 
 his favorite mule, " I can't rightly say ; but I reckon 
 Satan he wants ter torment us, an' make us ez bad ez 
 he kin, an' so he sort o' regulates things ter happen that 
 way. Ef most folks hez plenty o' money an' kin buy, 
 things is allus high ; an' ef we're all as poor ez Job's 
 turkey, they's down so low, it makes a man mos' wild 
 a-thinkin' how little it 'ud take to git a squar' meal o' 
 vittles. I dunno how 'tis, but the devil's in it somewhar, 
 that's sure," concluded Watson decisively. 
 
 " Well, what's a man going to do, if his crops don't 
 pay for harvesting ? " asked John slowly. 
 
 " Do ? " asked Watson with some sharpness. " Why, 
 fust of all, he'll git money on his cattle, ef he's got any, 
 thinkin' he kin pay it off shore afore long. Then'll 
 come the crops, the household furnitur', the pianner, an' 
 by an' by everything's gone, an' he jist nat'rally tramps 
 it. Without he's a feller like Bingham," he added, "he 
 ain't no place in this generation nohow." 
 
 " What sort of a place has Bingham ? " asked John 
 curiously.
 
 WATSON'S ICONOCLASM 105 
 
 "On top!" replied Watson with decision. "On top 
 every time. You take them fellers that's principally gall 
 an' stomach, an' ye'll find 'em a-winnin' the race in this 
 present day every time. Bingham he'd hev every man 
 in the country a-workin' fur him fur nothin' a day ef he 
 could, an' him walkin' around an' thinkin' he's the Lord's 
 own, an' that's the reason money keeps a-pilin' in on him." 
 
 " But, Watson, there are plenty of rich men not at all 
 like Bingham," said John, " and they've made their 
 money honestly." 
 
 " Yes, I know," assented Watson, " but average 'em 
 up, an' it's pretty nearly Bingham all over. I'd ruther 
 be a born duke any day, than sech a mean cuss ez Bing- 
 ham," added Watson with vehemence. " He'll hev a big 
 funeral when he dies," he commented after a pause, " but 
 there won't many folks know what a miserable little 
 tallow candle of a soul they're a-celebratin'." 
 
 As they stopped at the barn and unyoked the horses, 
 Watson's words ran in John's mind. Were they pro- 
 phetic ? he asked himself, as he looked across the great 
 cornfield which bowed and wavered in the breeze like a 
 strip of shining sea. He had taken the first step, and 
 every time he looked at his little herd of glossy short- 
 horns, he seemed to see the constable already driving 
 them off the place. He could not imagine, as Watson 
 said, what should make corn higher this year than it 
 was last ; but at least one gained nothing by worrying, 
 though, as the weeks wore on, John found himself wish- 
 ing the corn could not ripen, so full of dread was he 
 over the result of his crops. 
 
 One day as he came in at night unusually tired from a 
 long day's work, his mother handed him a letter bearing 
 the postmark of New York City. 
 
 " From Ward ! " he exclaimed as he opened it, " what 
 can have reminded him of me, I wonder ? "
 
 106 WHICH WINS 
 
 The letter was a very interesting one to John, and ran 
 as follows : 
 
 MY DEAR PARSIFAL, You will be surprised, no doubt, to 
 hear from me, and more surprised when I add that I hope to pay 
 you a visit before long, provided you will consent to be bored by 
 my practical self for a few days. I am thinking seriously of com- 
 ing West, and am busy transferring my investments to that region, 
 where one can get a much larger interest for one's money than 
 here. I am particularly anxious to obtain some good mortgages, 
 and would like to investigate matters for myself. You must know 
 the financial condition of most of your neighbors by this time, and 
 can probably give me a great deal of valuable information about 
 land in Nebraska. You can't trust brokers on such matters, they 
 are all sharks, and I don't want to waste any more money on com- 
 missions to them than is absolutely necessary. You can see, there- 
 fore, how much I depend upon you for help. 
 
 You will be surprised to learn that I am thinking of matrimony 
 also. Do you remember a Miss Woolcott in Berlin, who played 
 very finely ? Well, she is the happy person of my choice, and I 
 think I am to be congratulated. You recollect, no doubt, that she 
 had a fortune left her at a very opportune time, and this is partly 
 the occasion of my visit West. The money is invested in Eastern 
 securities which bring quite a small income, and, at her request, I 
 shall re-invest her funds, principally in mortgages. She is a verit- 
 able child in financial matters, and trusts everything to me ; so you 
 may be sure I am doubly anxious to have all satisfactory. 
 
 Miss Woolcott is very handsome, you remember, and altogether 
 a credit to a man's taste; and I hope you will be able to make her 
 acquaintance before long. 
 
 With the kindest regards to yourself and your mother, I remain 
 Your old friend, 
 
 STEPHEN WARD. 
 
 John felt as if the earth were falling away from under 
 his feet as he read the letter. And Ward was going to 
 marry Miss Woolcott ! 
 
 " Why, the girl is an idealist ! " he thought to himself. 
 " How can she think of marrying a man like Ward ? " 
 
 Yet what difference did it make to him, whom Miss 
 Woolcott married ? he reflected, realizing bitterly what a
 
 AN UNSUSPECTED LOVER 107 
 
 large place in his dreams her face had occupied through 
 all the years of his exile. 
 
 " It's perfectly natural that she should marry Ward," 
 he added, " he is rich and prosperous, in every way what 
 is considered a good match ; and if she had chosen 
 between us she would have taken him, no doubt. 
 
 "And how could she ever guess how much a poor 
 farmer in Nebraska has thought of her ? " he reflected 
 sadly. "I've been in love with an ideal, and never 
 knew it. When I meet Mrs. Ward I shall probably find 
 she has nothing in common with my thoughts of her. 
 
 "But he is going to invest her fortune in mortgages," 
 said John to himself ; " that is about the worst sarcasm 
 on the fallacy of trying to right eternal wrongs with 
 little individual virtues, I ever heard of. Invest her 
 fortune in mortgages ! Very likely he'll buy the mort- 
 gage on my farm ! " and John looked quizzical even 
 through the sadness of his face as he folded the letter 
 and put it in his pocket. 
 
 " Watson," he said, as they were returning to the field 
 after dinner, "'it's a difficult thing to try to mend other 
 people's troubles in this world, isn't it ? " 
 
 "Wai," replied Watson, meditating, "things has got 
 so darned wrong in this here universe, that ef ye start 
 to put anythin' straight, ye run a resk o' ruinin' the hull 
 system. They do say," he added, " it's wrong to give a 
 starvin' man a meal o' vittles, 'cause by feedin' one ye 
 jist encourage five millions to think maybe they'll git 
 ther bellies filled some time. An' that would be a dan- 
 gerous racket, sure enuff. Jest think o' five million 
 tramps they do say they's five million on us sartin' 
 o' gittin' a big meal o' vittles ; why, 'twould a'most make 
 a revolution," and Watson chuckled at his own concep- 
 tion with huge enjoyment. 
 
 "Did you ever go hungry, Watson?" asked John 
 curiously.
 
 108 WHICH WINS 
 
 "I've tightened my belt many a day to keep from 
 feelin' holler," responded Watson ; " an' I can't rightly 
 say as I'm sorry fur it neither," he added seriously, 
 " fur ther's many a true thing a man thinks on with an 
 empty stomach, he wouldn't never come to with a full 
 one ! " and Watson set the plough in its new furrow and 
 started down the field as if he felt the bliss of independ- 
 ent thinking more than balanced the account with pur- 
 ple and fine linen plus prejudices.- 
 
 Meanwhile, John's thoughts were very busy. The 
 half-acknowledged hope which had so suddenly dropped 
 from his life, somehow made the outlook before him far 
 drearier, though he cared less than before, perhaps, 
 about the future of his crops. He considered seriously 
 the project of asking Ward to buy the mortgage on his 
 farm ; but feeling that it must be asked as a personal 
 favor in his failing condition, as Ward would not fore- 
 close upon an old friend, he decided that he could 
 hardly bring himself to stand under so great a financial 
 obligation to any one. 
 
 He would rather be turned out, he said, for surely 
 with his two hands he could make as good a living for 
 his mother as she enjoyed at present ; and John thought 
 with a sudden contraction of the heart, of the dream he 
 had cherished of bringing his mother a daughter, and of 
 a life in a very different circle from that he saw closing 
 around him now. 
 
 But he would not allow himself to grow bitter over 
 the mere accidents of fortune, or his own idiocy per- 
 haps ; so he determined to drive his disappointment 
 resolutely from his thoughts, and allow nothing less 
 practical to enter there than his financial condition, and 
 how best to remedy it. " If there's a way out I'll find 
 it," he said sturdily, " and if not ? "
 
 WARD'S VISIT AND HIS OPINIONS 109 
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 WARD'S VISIT AND HIS OPINIONS 
 
 THE corn was nearly ready to harvest when Ward 
 came ; and great was his admiration over the vast grain 
 fields, which seemed to promise food for the world in 
 their broad luxuriance. 
 
 " Parsifal," he said, " you look just as you did when 
 we were in college together ; a little older, and a trifle 
 careworn ; but farming hasn't made you a bit more prac- 
 tical now, has it ? " 
 
 "And you have not grown to be a poet, I fancy," 
 replied John, looking at the well-dressed, well-cared-for 
 man of the world beside him. " Things have gone pros- 
 perously with you, haven't they, Ward ? You are satis- 
 fied with the world's treatment of you ? " 
 
 " I don't think I have anything to complain of really," 
 responded the other, stroking his chin complacently. 
 " I have a comfortable fortune which I intend to more 
 than double before long, and the prospect of marrying 
 one of the handsomest women in New York is not un- 
 attractive, I fancy." And Ward looked at John out of 
 his sharp little gray eyes, as if challenging him to an 
 equal exchange of confidences. 
 
 " Ah, Miss Woolcott ! to be sure, she is handsome," 
 admitted John, his brow contracting a little. " Is she 
 what shall I say ? companionable as well as beauti- 
 ful ? " he added. 
 
 " Oh, well," said Ward, tapping his boot reflectively, 
 " you know a woman is never like a man. I think we 
 agree pretty well in most things, but she is more absorbed
 
 110 WHICH WINS 
 
 in her music than she will be after she is married. I'll 
 have to regulate that a little," he added. 
 
 John smiled. " You speak as if you didn't anticipate 
 any trouble in regulating Mrs. Ward's affairs," he re- 
 marked inquiringly. 
 
 " Why, no, of course not," said Ward, with some 
 quickness. " A woman always expects to give up a good 
 deal when she marries. It's natural that she should, for 
 of course she must consider her husband's tastes some- 
 what. Oh, I never would want Katherine to give up 
 her music entirely ; it's too great an accomplishment ; 
 but it won't be the first interest after her marriage, you 
 know." And Ward looked so thoroughly self-satisfied, 
 that John was obliged strongly to repress an inclination 
 to toss him into the haycock near which they stood. 
 
 As they sat on the piazza watching the rising moon, 
 the evening after Ward's arrival, conversation drifted 
 naturally to the latter's plans, as it always did when he 
 was present, for his own affairs occupied so large a share 
 of his consciousness, that, like a considerable proportion 
 of the world, he frequently forgot that other people had 
 any. Ward was seated in an easy-chair, which had been 
 drawn out on the piazza, with the prairie in all its moon- 
 lit brilliance spread before him. John had thrown him- 
 self on the sward by the steps, and Watson, who had 
 come over to ask about the morrow's duties, leaned 
 against a large cottonwood beside the piazza, lingering 
 curiously to hear what the " New Yorker " had to say. 
 
 "I don't exactly understand your plans for settling in 
 the West, Ward," said John thoughtfully. " I should 
 think New York would suit you better as a place of 
 residence." 
 
 " Oh, I am not going to move West as you did, my 
 dear fellow," replied Ward, with a large tolerance for 
 John's weakness implied in his tone. " I shall settle in
 
 WARD'S IDEAS OF "BUSINESS" 111 
 
 Kansas City, and open a broker's office in partnership 
 with Dysart. I'm merely out here to look over the field, 
 and see what the real prospects are." 
 
 " What made you think of opening a broker's office ? " 
 asked John. 
 
 " There's no business that pays so well, and is so safe 
 at present," responded Ward, with decision. 
 
 "I should think," said John, "that as things are 
 tending now, a broker's office, especially one which 
 dealt in farm mortgages, would mean an agency for 
 foreclosures." 
 
 "Not as much as you think," replied Ward, brushing 
 the dried leaves off of the floor with his cane ; " and 
 even if it did, the profit to the broker is large. You see, 
 a great many people are closed out for a loan which 
 doesn't begin to reach the value of the property it covers. 
 Then, of course, you get the land." 
 
 " But there is a very slow sale for farm lands now," 
 objected John, somewhat feebly. 
 
 "Parsifal," replied his friend solemnly, "you never 
 would make a broker, that's evident. Supposing there 
 is a slow sale for farm lands, some fellow is sure to turn 
 up who hasn't much money, and is glad to get experience 
 by buying a farm on time. He takes your land, makes 
 the first payment on it, and maybe the second. Then 
 he is done for, but meanwhile he's paid the taxes, and 
 you have the land back again, plus the amount he has 
 given you on it. If you turn a dozen men off the farm, 
 it means money in your pocket, doesn't it ? " 
 
 John moved uneasily as if his resting-place was not 
 comfortable, and there was a curious sound, between a 
 snort and a groan, from the tree where Watson stood. 
 
 " But, Ward," said John, after a short pause, " doesn't 
 that seem a little like growing fat on the misfortunes of 
 other people ? "
 
 112 WHICH WINS 
 
 Ward laughed. " You're such a one-sided fellow, 
 Parsifal," he exclaimed, rising and coming down the 
 steps so that he could look into John's face, bathed in 
 the moonlight he loved so dearly; "you never can seize 
 more than one idea at a time, nor any aspect of an affair 
 except that which appeals to you. Now just stop a min- 
 ute, and think what the West has become," and with 
 a profound sense of his own oratorical powers, Ward 
 raised his hand to the moon and went on. " It has 
 grown in a few decades to a state of phenomenal pros- 
 perity which the communities of the Old World have 
 been hundreds of years in attaining, and how has it done 
 so ? By the beneficent effect of the mortgage system. 
 Farmers, who did not have a dollar, so to speak, and if 
 they were left to their own exertions would have passed 
 their lives as day-laborers, have taken up claims, im- 
 proved them, and opened the door to the great civilizing 
 agencies of the universe ; and all this because there were 
 parties who were willing to lend money on the security 
 of land" 
 
 " And improvements," interpolated Watson, sotto voce. 
 
 "And improvements," admitted Ward, who had 
 caught the muttered words, but failed to see the innu- 
 endo they conveyed. 
 
 " What you say about the advantage of this phenome- 
 nal growth is, of course, true," assented John thought- 
 fully ; " but it seems as if the promoters of it would 
 have a great many crimes to answer for." 
 
 " Crimes ! " cried Ward, laughing. " Why, man, 
 wouldn't you feel like embracing the individual who 
 opened the way for you to carry out some cherished 
 plan, or make a long-thought-of improvement, which 
 you had given up all hope of consummating ? " 
 
 "Ye don't feel like embracin' nobody, though, when 
 that 'ere improvement drops into yer creditors' lap,
 
 WARD AS A HUMANITARIAN 113 
 
 'cause ye can't pay the interest on it," remarked Watson 
 with a sort of growl. 
 
 " No, of course not," admitted Ward, walking up and 
 down the path with his hands under his coat-tails, evi- 
 dently enjoying the conversation, and its instructive 
 effect upon the two commercial infants before him. 
 " The man who is closed out of course feels a little bit- 
 ter, but his improvements have added just so much to 
 the wealth of the world, and some one will get the fruits 
 of them." 
 
 " Look a-here, Mr. Ward," said Watson, " I'm a igno- 
 rant man, an' can't argy with scholars like you, but do 
 ye mean to say it's all fair an' squar fur a nabob to rake 
 in the savin's o' the poor farmers, an' pat hisself on the 
 back fur bein' a benefactor to the world ? " 
 
 " Why, I don't say benefactor exactly," replied Ward, 
 with tolerance, feeling some surprise that John allowed 
 this farm hand to take a share in the conversation with- 
 out reproof ; " but I am merely showing you that the 
 money thus invested has a beneficent effect upon the 
 country at large, and that it is unfair to judge the world 
 from too purely personal a standpoint." And Ward 
 swelled a little as he added, pompously, " We grow self- 
 ish in our standpoint before we realize it, Parsifal, as 
 I believe you used to argue, if we don't look at the world 
 with other people's eyes occasionally." 
 
 " We do, undoubtedly, Ward," said John, laughing 
 a little, "though I hardly expected to have my argu- 
 ments turned against me in that style, and I am afraid 
 it will be a long time before I can use your eyes with 
 satisfaction." 
 
 "If you only had my opportunities," replied Ward, 
 " the eyes might grow, I fancy. Now look here a 
 moment, and let me show you the immense advantage 
 of the broker's office," he added. " Here is the Eastern
 
 ll WHICH WINS 
 
 capitalist ; lie sends his money to us, that we may in- 
 vest it for him, and he is satisfied with a small rate of 
 interest. We know the ground, and place it for him, 
 getting a commission of ten or fifteen per cent on the 
 loan. And very likely also we can retain a percentage 
 of the interest which passes through our hands ; of 
 course it's perfectly honest to do so," he added hastily, 
 seeing an odd expression on John's face. " The Eastern 
 man gets all he wants, more than he could receive in the 
 East." 
 
 " An' I s'pose the pore feller what borries the money, 
 he gits experence," remarked Watson inquiringly. 
 
 "He gets a great many things," replied Ward, with 
 condescension ; " but we're looking at the broker now. 
 You'd think that such an opportunity for profit as that 
 would satisfy any man, would you not ? " he continued. 
 " But that isn't half of the story. He has innumerable 
 ways of turning an honest penny ; for instance, suppose 
 the borrower fails to pay his interest. The broker can 
 send on the instalment to the Eastern holder of the 
 mortgage, saying nothing about the failure of his 
 client " 
 
 "Wai, hold on ! that's mighty good on him ! I'd hardly 
 a-thought it now ! " interjected Watson, becoming sud- 
 denly excited. " I'm afeard I've ben a-doin' injustice to 
 ye in my own mind, Mr. Ward." 
 
 "Say, Thurston," remarked Ward, with some impa- 
 tience, " I wish you'd give this wild Nebraskan of yours 
 a few lessons in common politeness, if you please ; I'd 
 like to have some liberty of speech." 
 
 " Watson's all right," said John quietly ; " he doesn't 
 mean any harm, Ward, so go ahead." 
 
 Thus adjured, Ward picked up the thread of talk with 
 a trifle less assurance in his manner. "You see," he 
 said, fingering his heavy jewelled seal, " I'm talking about
 
 DOES MONEY MAKE FRIENDS 115 
 
 business now, not philanthropy, and there's considerable 
 difference, you understand. Supposing, as I say, the 
 broker sends on the remittance for the borrower's inter- 
 est ; the latter comes in to see about the matter, after 
 the date has passed, and is told that the interest has not 
 been paid in time, and a foreclosure is imminent. He 
 is ready to do anything, for the law gives the creditor 
 the right to foreclose as soon as the first payment of in- 
 terest fails; and the unfortunate borrower is generally 
 glad to pay another commission of fifteen per cent to the 
 broker, to induce him to renew the loan, and maybe a 
 bonus besides." 
 
 " Why, Ward, that is simply horrible ! " cried John, 
 earnestly. " You don't mean to say you're going into a 
 business of that sort ? " 
 
 " Oh, a human bein' ain't got no rights jist from bein' 
 born ! " remarked Watson. " Ye don't consarn the com- 
 munity much 'thout ye got money in yere pocket ; an' 
 that there's God's truth ! " 
 
 "Parsifal, I suppose it's useless to try and make you 
 understand the matter," said Ward, a trifle impatiently. 
 " Of course, the laws are favorable to the lender, they 
 must be so for the protection of society. The man who 
 gives his money must have some assurance of getting it 
 back again, and only the law can provide this for him. 
 Why, how many men would pay a loan, do you think, if 
 they were not compelled to ? and the capitalist is the 
 important element in society ; the element which main- 
 tains public morality, and the progressive forces of the 
 world. Some one must be sacrificed in the evolution of 
 civilization, and the law of the survival of the fittest 
 holds good here as elsewhere ; the least worthy goes 
 under. The poorer classes are the dregs of society, and 
 they naturally suffer." 
 
 " Yes ! " ejaculated Watson, in a tone which indicated
 
 116 WHICH WINS 
 
 that he could not keep still any longer, " the Lord He 
 makes the vermin to fill the big folks' pockets, jist like 
 He makes the little fishes fur the whales to fatten on ; 
 but ef ye thinks them vermin is allays a-goiu' to be 
 swallered amiably, ye're rnistakin' the thing amazin', an' 
 that's the truth on't." 
 
 " Why, Watson," said Ward mildly, I didn't mean 
 to offend you, I'm sure. I was talking in the abstract, 
 and had no idea of being personal." 
 
 " Wai, I'm opposed to that there sort o' abstract, then ! " 
 responded Watson. " You rich folks thinks as how us 
 workin'men ain't nothin' but cattle, nohow ; Taut ther's 
 lots of us that's got souls, ef we ain't eddicated, an' we 
 does a heap more thinkin' than ye give us credit fur, I 
 kin tell ye." 
 
 " Ward," began John, as Watson relapsed into sombre 
 silence, " I can't bear to hear you talk so coolly about 
 that loan business. It's always seemed to me to be a 
 growing curse of our country, that the money accumu- 
 lates in the hands of a few persons, and then can only 
 be doled out at a ruinous interest to those who need it 
 most." 
 
 "Well, Parsifal, you always would mix up sentiment 
 with business ! " exclaimed Ward. " The two things 
 have absolutely nothing in common, and they ruin each 
 other. The laws of trade necessitate the accumulation 
 of capital, and the law of self-protection governs the 
 loaning of it, and no man is to blame." 
 
 " But, Ward ! " cried John, who had risen in his turn, 
 " sentiment and business ought to go together. Suppose 
 trade could flow through perfectly unrestricted channels, 
 under the direct control of the people, you would have 
 no such vile accumulation of capital ; or, if that were 
 not possible, suppose the government should loan money 
 to the people at one or two per cent, as is done in
 
 
 THE INTEREST SPECTRE 117 
 
 Germany, you would have all the beneficent effects of ap- 
 plied capital, without this horrible sacrifice of individuals. 
 Wouldn't that be much better ? " 
 
 "Oh, of course, but then the government don't do 
 that, and you always exaggerate the sufferings caused by 
 any such system," said Ward coldly ; " it is not half so 
 bad as you imaginative people think." 
 
 " I am sure it is far worse than any imaginative per- 
 son can fancy, unless he has been through it, Ward," 
 replied John ; " and it is founded on the iniquitous 
 sysjtem of interest, which " 
 
 " For Heaven's sake, Thurston, don't open that sub- 
 ject," cried Ward, with deep disgust. " I'm not inter- 
 ested in political economy, and I'm not a crank, and I 
 most certainly do believe in interest money ; so you'll 
 waste your breath." 
 
 "Wot wor that tale you wor a-tellin' me about a young 
 artist, Mr. Thurston ? " asked Watson, who never 
 missed the application of anything he heard, "he wor 
 a mtrust-bearin' one, I reckon." 
 
 "Sure enough, it's just a case in point !" exclaimed 
 John. "You remember that gifted young Fleming, 
 Ward ? He went to Paris last year, feeling the need 
 of more inspiration. He is poor, of course, but his 
 brother is unmarried and receives a large salary. His 
 father is a wealthy man. Poor Fleming had no money 
 to go on, so his brother lent him a moderate sum, taking 
 a mortgage on his pictures, which will some day be very 
 valuable. Now he is living in Paris on twenty sous a 
 day, with all the work of his life, so far, lost to him, 
 unless he can keep up the interest on the sum he was 
 forced to borrow. Such a piece of brotherly injustice 
 fills you with horror," cried John, standing still, and 
 lifting up his face to the white moon so far away, "but 
 I say the broker who takes a farm away from a poor
 
 118 WHICH WINS 
 
 fellow who cannot pay the interest especially if he 
 has been coaxed into borrowing is just as inhuman. 
 Fleming's case only points a moral we can read every- 
 where in our abominable economic system, if we will 
 only open our eyes to see it." 
 
 " Say, Parsifal ! " said Ward, laying his hand on 
 John's shoulder, " I'll take back what I said last night. 
 You're a million times worse than you were in Berlin. 
 I believe you're a socialist, and an anarchist, and a single- 
 tax man, boiled down. What have you been doing to 
 yourself to imbibe such incendiary notions in this out- 
 of-the-way place anyhow ? " 
 
 John smiled and said nothing, for he felt how useless 
 it would be to reveal his thoughts further to a man of 
 Ward's calibre. He remembered their youth together. 
 Ward had been a conservative, rather selfish fellow, but 
 they had always tolerated and understood each other's 
 attitudes ; and it puzzled him to see how Ward had 
 hardened, how his sympathies had not narrowed but 
 disappeared utterly under the shell of egotism, which 
 had apparently walled him in from all the world. 
 
 After they had said good-night, he stood thinking for 
 some time. " Is it money-making that has changed him 
 so ? " John asked himself, " and does the greed for gain 
 so eat into a man's soul that humanity disappears 
 entirely ? I would rather be a tramp, turned out of 
 every farm in the State of Nebraska," he said, setting 
 his lips together, " than grow incapable of seeing the 
 world except through the eyes of self-interest." 
 
 Then he thought of Miss Woolcott, and as he realized 
 that she was to be Ward's wife he paced up and down 
 his little room, feeling that he must prevent such a 
 sacrifice. 
 
 " She is not a fighter," he said, as the pure face rose 
 in his memory once more, and he recalled what had
 
 THE KNIGHT AND THE DRAGON 119 
 
 been said about Miss Woolcott's incapacity for making 
 her own way in the world. The conviction strengthened 
 within him, that she was a 'victim to conventionality 
 now, in some way, as circumstances had almost forced 
 her to be once before, and he felt a sort of rage at the 
 compliance he imagined her giving to a union, which, to 
 judge from Ward's own manner of speaking, was not 
 congenial to her. 
 
 " Why can't she live her life ? " he thought angrily. 
 " She has money enough, and a profession which alone 
 ought to bring her a competence ; and what can Ward 
 offer that will equal the independence he forces her to 
 give up ? " 
 
 Wearied with so many baseless speculations, John fell 
 asleep, only to dream of rescuing Miss Woolcott again 
 from the power of a demon who resembled Ward, and at 
 last to see her die in his clutches. " It shall not be ! I 
 must save her in spite of everything ! " cried John, and 
 so crying, Avoke to find the sun shining in at his windows, 
 and nothing more tragical in prospect, than the dimly 
 presaged consequences of the broker's office which 
 Ward intended to open.
 
 120 WHICH WINS 
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 THE KICH MAN'S FRIENDSHIP 
 
 WARD'S surprise was great wh'en he learned John's 
 real financial condition ; and it is to be feared his respect 
 for his friend's opinions lessened somewhat, when he 
 saw that he no longer spoke from the standpoint of the 
 man who has lost nothing, and must rather be regarded 
 as one of those dangerous thinkers who have nothing to 
 lose. 
 
 John wondered a little at first as to whether his friend 
 would offer to help him out, by holding his mortgage 
 until he could redeem his farm ; but if such a suggestion 
 had ever entered Ward's mind, he gave no hint of it, and 
 satisfied himself with expressing a sympathy for his 
 friend's condition, which John could not but feel was 
 mingled with a suspicion of scorn for his inability to 
 find a way out of his difficulties. 
 
 He was rather inclined to agree with Watson, who said 
 to him one day, as they were harnessing the horses pre- 
 paratory to entering the cornfield, 
 
 " Is all them capitalists alike, Mr. Thurston ? " 
 
 " What capitalists, Watson ? I don't understand you," 
 replied John. 
 
 "Why, them money fellers an' brokers Mr. Ward's 
 a-talking about, Bingham an' sich, ye know. They 
 seem to think as how money is a sort o' pass-word to 
 God's grace, an' them as ain't got none jist better go 
 home an' bust, hey ? " 
 
 " Watson," said John, laughing, " they're not all like
 
 WARD'S TENDENCIES 121 
 
 that; but money is of so much importance nowadays, 
 that I do think those who have it are a little inclined to 
 value themselves higher than those who have none. As 
 far as I am concerned/' he added, " I wouldn't dare to 
 try the experiment of being a rich man. I should be 
 afraid of turning into a regular snob." 
 
 John never forgot the expression of Watson's face as 
 he turned toward him for a moment. " Mr. Thurston," 
 he cried, " I wouldn't never be afeared o' that fur you ; 
 an' fur me, I've knowed that death-in-life o' poverty so 
 long, that ef I hed money, I'd jist gether as many folks 
 as I could, an' make 'em live off'n it, I tell ye ! " 
 
 During the remainder of his visit, Ward was a con- 
 tinual study to John ; and comparison with his friend's 
 mental attitude made him realize keenly how far he him- 
 self had deviated from the accepted standpoint of selfish 
 thinking and conventional doing. As they drove over 
 the country together, John was amused at the practical 
 skill with which Ward counted up the financial value of 
 every homestead, and could not help feeling somewhat 
 shocked at the frankness with which he invariably went 
 to work to find out whether a man was " mortgaged," as 
 he expressed it. He evidently felt flattered at John's 
 surprise over his all-devouring eagerness in money mat- 
 ters, and appeared to have no doubts as to the nobility 
 of the faculty he had cultivated to such an exaggerated 
 degree. 
 
 John's mind was full of sensitive queries about the 
 happiness of the future Mrs. Ward, and he asked his 
 friend one day if Miss Woolcott's sympathy was with 
 him in his keen pursuit of wealth. 
 
 "She?" replied Ward laughing. "She never knows 
 whether she has any income left or not. She's likely to 
 empty her pocketbook in the hand of the first beggar 
 she sees when she goes out in the morning, and I don't
 
 122 WHICH WINS 
 
 think there is anything she has such a profound contempt 
 for as money. It is the veriest stuff, she says ; the only 
 thing in life worth living for is art, you know ! " and 
 Ward threw back his head and laughed, as he remem- 
 bered the superb scorn of Katherine's expression when 
 she made that toploftical remark. " You and she would 
 come as near setting the world on fire as any people I 
 ever met, Parsifal," he added. " And business ! she 
 knows as much about business as a sleeping infant. 
 You ought to have seen her when I came away. She 
 said to me very solemnly, ' Stephen, you said something 
 about putting my money in mortgages. I've heard of 
 mortgages causing trouble to people, though I don't 
 quite know about it ; and I want you to distinctly under- 
 stand, Stephen, that nobody is to be turned out with my 
 money ! ' Oh, the air with which she said that ! It was 
 inimitable ; and do you know, she has given me a power 
 of attorney which enables me to control every dollar she 
 has ! Oh, Katherine is a rare one for business, I tell 
 you ! " and Ward chuckled to himself, as if the satisfac- 
 tion of having such a piece of incapacity entirely in his 
 power was almost enough to upset his equilibrium. 
 
 One day shortly before his departure, he drove over to 
 Fulton alone, announcing that he wished to make some 
 inquiries in the various brokers' offices there in regard 
 to investments. Ward's mind had, in fact, been running 
 upon John's farm, ever since he had learned of his un- 
 fortunate financial condition. The farm, was a very fine 
 one, the house attractive and commodious, and altogether 
 the place made a charming impression, as Ward had said 
 to himself again and again. And the mortgage upon it 
 was only three thousand dollars. 
 
 "He'll lose it, sure," said Ward to himself, "and I 
 might as well have it as old Leverson. I could farm it 
 in conjunction with Bingham, or sell it; and I just
 
 A POLITE SORT OF STEALING 123 
 
 believe I'll apply some of Kate's money to lifting the 
 mortgage, if I can do so without Thurston's finding out 
 the matter. I might as well do it," he continued ; 
 "Thurston would worry along a little while longer, of 
 course, if I helped him, but it's really better for him to 
 be compelled to give up the farm. He can come to 
 Kansas City, and I'll give him a place in my office at 
 seventy-five or a hundred dollars a month. I don't 
 believe he can keep books, but we could make him use- 
 ful in some way ; and I don't see why I shouldn't have 
 that farm as well as anybody, as long as it's got to go," 
 he concluded, returning to his original proposition. 
 
 He found Mr. Leverson a pleasant, easy old gentleman, 
 who seemed too content with the world to have made a 
 fortune out of mortgages. Ward discussed the condi- 
 tion of business generally, and was relieved to find the 
 old gentleman much less pessimistic than John, while 
 he listened with delighted approval to Ward's descrip- 
 tion of the beneficent effects of the mortgage system. 
 
 "Yes," he said, rubbing his hands, "there's no doubt 
 a great deal of truth in what you say, Mr. Ward ; and 
 while no one deplores the sufferings of the farmers more 
 than I do, still I realize how their very sufferings, as 
 you say, have helped the country to develop." And Mr. 
 Leverson smiled in a way which showed that with all 
 his benevolence, he could tolerate the suffering of others 
 when his own advancement depended upon it. 
 
 Ward made various inquiries as to several investments 
 lie had heard of, and gradually led the conversation 
 around to the subject of John's farm. 
 
 " Beautiful place ! beautiful place ! " exclaimed Mr. 
 Leverson. "Now there's a small investment for some 
 one who wants a perfectly safe thing. Eight per cent 
 interest that you are sure of, for Mr. Thurston, I under- 
 stand, is a man of wealth ; and if any unforeseen acci-
 
 124 WHICH WINS 
 
 dent should make a foreclosure necessary, there is the 
 most ample security. You are a friend of Mr. JThurs- 
 ton's," added Leverson, " aud if you would like to take 
 that mortgage off my hands, I should be glad to accom- 
 modate you. Mr. Thurston would probably prefer that 
 you hold it ; and if I had the money I have put into it, 
 I could use it to advantage elsewhere." 
 
 " I don't care to take it," replied Ward cautiously, and 
 conscious of a slight feeling of discomfort in the trans- 
 action. "But I know a man in Kansas City who is 
 looking for just such things, and I'll mention it to him." 
 
 Then, satisfied that he understood perfectly the terms 
 of the mortgage, Ward bowed himself out, leaving Mr. 
 Leverson to grow eloquent over the intelligence and 
 enterprise of New Yorkers in general, and Mr. Ward in 
 particular. Ward, meanwhile, as he drove homeward 
 over the moonlit prairie, formulated his scheme for get- 
 ting possession of John's farm, and pictured to himself 
 Katherine's surprise when she learned that it was possi- 
 ble to receive eight per cent for her money or more, just 
 as well as five. 
 
 "But she won't get it," chuckled Ward to himself. 
 " She might just as well learn a little bit of sense about 
 money matters, and I'll take care of her income, and see 
 that it isn't wasted, if possible."
 
 MAGGIE DECIDES TO GO INTO BUSINESS 125 
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 MAGGIE DECIDES TO GO INTO BUSINESS 
 
 THERE was quite an excitement in the Watson cottage 
 one morning shortly after Mr. Ward's departure, when 
 Maggie announced to the assembled family that she was 
 going to leave them. She had been preparing for her 
 flitting all summer, but no one realized that she would 
 really go until the supreme moment. 
 
 " Wot's the matter of ye, Mag ? Ye ain't mad about 
 nothin', be ye ? " exclaimed her father. 
 
 " No," said Maggie ; " I ain't mad at nothin' but 
 things. I'm mad at stayin' hearin' mother whine, an' 
 you talkin' 'bout the country goin' ter the dogs, an' 
 nobody doin' nothin'. I'm goin' ter branch out, that's 
 all, an' do somethin' fur myself, me an' Marie Leifert." 
 
 "Wot? Marie Leifert? is she in it too?" cried 
 Watson, in surprise. " Wot's the old man got to say to 
 that ? " 
 
 "It don't make no difference wot he says," replied 
 Maggie, doing up a clean calico dress with vigor. " We're 
 a-goin' all the same." 
 
 "Well, I dunno wot me an' the young uns'll do," 
 said Mrs. Watson, beginning to cry, " an' the baby that 
 cross, nobody can't do nothin' with him but you, an' 
 winter comin' on " 
 
 "Well, that's jist why I'm a-goin'!" said Maggie 
 quickly. " I kin git- good wages out to service, an' it'll 
 help lots ; an' mebbe I kin find somethin' fur father to 
 do in town. Ye needn't think I'm a-goin' to stay a hired
 
 126 WHICH WINS 
 
 girl all my days," she added. " Father's taught me 
 book-keepin' an' ciphering an' I'm a-goin' to learn ste- 
 nography an' typewritin' ; an' the fust thing this fam'ly 
 knows, I'll be as fine as anybody, an' help out fur the rest 
 on ye too," added Maggie, with a laugh arid a nourish 
 which made the little ones cheer up, and nearly dried 
 her mother's tears. 
 
 " Wai now, Mag," said her father dryly, " 'twon't be 
 long, I reckon, afore ye gits ter be a reg'lar capitalist, 
 an' then ye'll be a-callin' on us cattle an' warmints an' 
 all them other names Mr. Ward were so fond o' usiri' ; 
 but I don't rightly see how we kin git on without ye, an' 
 that's flat." And Watson drew his coat-cuff suddenly 
 across his eyes in a suspicious fashion. " But I'm real 
 glad ye've got some git up in ye," he added ; " an' ye 
 won't settle down to be no sech old hunks as yer father 
 afore ye ! " 
 
 " Father, ye ain't no right to call yerself sich names," 
 cried Maggie impetuously, throwing her arms around 
 her father's neck. "Yerjist the best ole feller in the 
 world, an' I wouldn't trade ye fur a millionnaire, so there 
 now ! " 
 
 "Wai, that's pretty good," replied Watson much 
 delighted, for he was very fond of his children. " An' 
 I'd like ter ask when this here young capitalist is a-goin' 
 ter jump the ranch ? " 
 
 " I'm a-goin' this arternoon," said Maggie ; " an' I 
 thought mebbe as how Mr. Thurston he'd let you drive 
 us over to Fulton." 
 
 "I'll ax him," replied Watson, turning toward the 
 door. " An' I reckon the ole lady'll be plumb broke up 
 about yer leavin'." 
 
 In fact, Mrs. Thurston had grown so accustomed to 
 Maggie's freely offered assistance, since the Watsons 
 had come to occupy the little cottage on the farm, that
 
 MAGGIE'S DEPARTURE 127 
 
 she wondered sometimes what she had done before she 
 came ; and it was with a sensation of despair that she 
 heard Watson's announcement of his daughter's resolu- 
 tion. She sat down on a chair, looking almost ready to 
 cry, while she exclaimed, 
 
 " Well, Watson, is it ever going to end ? " 
 
 "Wot a-goin' ter end, Mis' Thurston?" inquired 
 Watson, wondering what had come over the old lady. 
 
 "Why, everything," she replied; "it seems to me, 
 just as I get accustomed to one seb of troubles, and begin 
 to think I can bear them maybe, another comes along 
 that I never dreamed of. I couldn't endure Maggie 
 when I first knew her, Watson, if you'll excuse me for 
 saying it ; but really, since our misfortune, she's been so 
 good that I never wanted to lose her again. Can't you 
 persuade her to stay awhile yet ? " she added anxiously. 
 
 "Wai, ye see, Mis' Thurston, I don't ezackly like ter 
 do that, 'cause it's sech a darned good thing fur her 
 (excuse me) ter git off. Maggie ain't no or'nary girl, 
 nohow. She kin do most anything from custard pie to 
 mental arithmetic, an' I do like ter think she's a-goin' 
 ter hev a chance ter make suthin' o' herself." 
 
 " But, Watson, it seems to me a great deal better for 
 a girl like Maggie to content herself with her station 
 in life, and not get notions in her head," cried Mrs. 
 Thurston with some acerbity. "If she does her duty 
 to her mother and you, I think it is a great deal more 
 praiseworthy than wanting to get above her proper posi- 
 tion. Typewriting indeed ! what does a girl like Maggie 
 know about typewriting ? Though I must say it always 
 struck me that those typewriters were a very common 
 class of young. women." And Mrs. Thurston rose sud- 
 denly, and began to move briskly about her work, as if 
 determined to show Watson that she was not dependent 
 upon any girl so full of notions as Maggie,
 
 128 WHICH WINS 
 
 Watson stood hesitating for a moment, not knowing 
 exactly how to broach the next subject in the most 
 politic and taking manner. 
 
 " There's Rose, Mis' Thurston," he remarked at last ; 
 " she's gittin' ter be a likely gal, an' she kin do most any 
 chore round the house now. I'd call it a great favor ef 
 ye'd let Rose come in an' help oncet in a while ; fur her 
 ma, ye know, Mis' Thurston, can't give her no trainin', 
 an' she could larn a lot o' things from a lady like you, 
 that her ma ain't never knowed." 
 
 " Well, I haven't come down to Rose yet, Watson, but 
 I may. There's no telling when my health will give 
 out, with the strain I'm living under," said Mrs. Thurs- 
 ton, and she stirred her corn bread with a vigor which 
 was anything but suggestive of failing health. 
 
 " Ye don't set much store by socialism yet, do ye, Mis' 
 Thurston ? " remarked Watson inquiringly, determined 
 to try a new tack, and placate the old lady, if possible. 
 
 "Socialism!" cried Mrs. Thurston, "I don't know 
 what you mean by asking me such a question as that, 
 Watson ; you understand very well that I don't tolerate 
 such wicked nonsense." 
 
 "Wai, folks don't generally when they has plenty," 
 responded Watson carefully; "but I were jist a-thinkin' 
 ef we had socialism, ye see, ther'd be some sort o' 'range- 
 ment fur us all to be livin' together in harmony, an' 
 Maggie she wouldn't have ter be a-goin' off typewriting 
 an' Ward an' Bingham an' that rot would be bio wed up, 
 an' you an' Mr. John'd be a sort o' settin' an' reapin' the 
 rewards o' propriety an' goodness, d'ye see ? " 
 
 "Watson, do you know what you are talking about ? " 
 asked Mrs. Thurston, turning upon him with a sudden 
 wrath, which made Watson start. 
 
 "Jist sort o' techin' up the millennial period, ma'am," 
 replied that worthy humbly.
 
 WATSON'S "TRICKS AND MANNERS" 129 
 
 " Well, I want to tell you once and for all, Watson," 
 said Mrs. Thurston with decision, "that I have some 
 principle, and I shouldn't believe in socialism if I be- 
 came a beggar, and I never would under any circum- 
 stances tolerate the idea of having people blown up, 
 so please don't use such shocking expressions again ; " 
 and Mrs. Thurston turned her back with a hysterical 
 suspicion that Watson was taking advantage of her 
 altered social position to advance his dreadful doctrines 
 in her presence. 
 
 " I were jist a-thinkin', Mis' Thurston," ventured 
 Watson again, hoping to rectify his blunder, "that on 
 the socialistic plane " 
 
 "Watson !" exclaimed Mrs. Thurston severely. 
 
 "On the socialistic plane," repeated Watson with meek- 
 ness, "them there highfalutin' ways o' yourn'll be just 
 in play, Mis' Thurston, an' it does me good ter see how 
 Mag's caught on ter 'em. She got ter feelin' so high, 
 the next thing was typewritin' jist as nateral as life, 
 an' if ye'd give Rose a chance in the same way, she 
 might be took fur a duchess, spite of her ole dad." 
 
 "Watson, what in the world do you mean by the 
 socialistic plane ? " asked Mrs. Thurston, mollified in 
 spite of herself. 
 
 " Why, when we're all ekil, ye know, on an equality, 
 ye might say, then I reckon everybody'll be highfalutin', 
 won't they ? Learnin' typewritin' won't be no great 
 shakes in them days, I'm thinkin', an' I'd like ter have 
 Rose sort o' preparin', ye know." And Watson made 
 haste to vacate the apartment, chuckling to himself as 
 he went to the barn, preparatory to driving Maggie and 
 Marie Leifert to Fulton. 
 
 " But the old lady ain't wot she wor a year ago," he 
 said sorrowfully; "she's a-breakin' fast. I jist thought 
 I'd pave the way fur Rose ter help her out with that
 
 130 WHICH WINS 
 
 there little racket, fur some days it do seem like she 
 can't no more'n git around. I wonder if Thurston sees 
 it," he reflected ; " I see him lookin' at her mighty close 
 now an' then, but he don't say nothin'. It's curous, 
 though, she don't come round on that there tramp ques- 
 tion a whit. She's jist as solid on her fam'ly an' sich 
 as ever. When folks is born conceited," concluded 
 Watson, as he climbed into the buggy, "I reckon it's 
 pretty hard fur the Lord to git it out'n 'em." 
 
 Meanwhile what were the two girls thinking of, as 
 they drove across the rolling prairie ? The sun was 
 setting yonder in the west, going down like a red ball 
 into the shadow of the evening mists. To Maggie it 
 seemed like the hot despair and disappointment of her 
 own previous life. Would the morrow dawn gentler, 
 brighter, more hope-inspiring ? 
 
 She drew a long breath as they entered the town, and 
 left behind them the solitude and darkness of the unten- 
 anted prairie. " I kin work here anyhow," she thought, 
 as she sprang from the buggy, "an' git sumthin fur it ! "
 
 WOOING AND WAITING 131 
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 WOOING AND WAITING. 
 
 THE days before Katherine's wedding were very busy 
 ones, for she insisted upon keeping up her classes and 
 recitals till the last moment, declaring that she would 
 die of ennui if she had nothing to do but think of her 
 wedding clothes. 
 
 She took great delight in those same wedding clothes, 
 nevertheless, and indulged in various little extravagances 
 which had been tabooed hitherto, because she felt that 
 her income would not permit them, without cutting 
 short her allowance for charity and books. Now that 
 she was about to marry a wealthy man, it seemed per- 
 fectly proper to supply herself with various small lux- 
 uries, which rich women think nothing of, but which 
 make a hole very quickly in a small income. So Kath- 
 erine revelled modestly in delicate handkerchiefs and 
 silk underwear, allowed herself six-button gloves to an 
 extravagant degree, and delighted her mother by the 
 amount of truly feminine inconsistency which she 
 developed in different directions. 
 
 Meanwhile she seemed to take a perverse pleasure in 
 showing Ward her indifference to his wealth. She 
 would not allow him to make her any presents, because 
 she felt instinctively that as he loved money so well he 
 could not give her anything without counting the cost, 
 and it seemed to her humiliating to feel under obliga- 
 tions to one who stood in the light of a lover or a future 
 husband.
 
 132 WHICH WINS 
 
 Indeed, Katherine's ideas upon the relations of hus- 
 bands and wives, and especially the duties of wives, 
 were becoming so radical as- the moment of their as- 
 sumption arrived, that she was almost shocked some- 
 times to find what opinions she was cherishing, and 
 stopped in surprise to question why her attitude upon 
 various points had become what it appeared to be. 
 
 There was a shade of authority and of conscious pos- 
 session sometimes in Ward's manner, which was ex- 
 tremely irritating to her, and if that gentleman had 
 been more sensitive, or less sure of himself, they might 
 have quarrelled many times. But it never occurred to 
 the lover that Katherine's independence was anything 
 more than the playful spirit of a kitten, which is 
 corrected immediately by the growing sedateness of 
 maturity, and if any one had hinted to him that his 
 fiancee was in danger of growing strong-minded, or of 
 insisting upon carrying out her own views of life after 
 the marital knot was fairly tied, he would have smiled 
 with calm and decisive superiority. 
 
 " Let a woman see that you mean business," he fre- 
 quently remarked, "and she may cry a little and pout 
 a while, but she'll give in and go your way, and not only 
 that, but she'll like you a great deal better for making 
 her do it." 
 
 Of course Ward did not expect this beautiful docility 
 to be brought about before marriage ; in fact, he pre- 
 ferred that Katherine should remain spirited and a trifle 
 wilful until the bonds were firmly tied. It made their 
 intercourse more spicy, and life more interesting, while 
 it did not alter the real relationship of oak and clinging 
 vine, the symbol which was indelibly engraved among 
 the allegorical figures of Ward's mental gallery. Not 
 in the least. 
 
 Among the events which occupied Katherine's atten-
 
 WARD SPEAKS LIKE A HUSBAND 133 
 
 tion immediately before her marriage was a concert for 
 the benefit of one of her pupils. Ward had heard a 
 great deal about Dinah Kuntzer, for Katherine con- 
 sidered her to have remarkable talent, and never wearied 
 of enlarging upon the promise she gave of future great- 
 ness. One morning it happened that Ward encountered 
 her in Katherine's rooms, and the latter insisted that 
 he should sit down and hear her play, and forced Dinah 
 to the piano, in spite of great reluctance on her part. 
 Ward, however, was really a very poor connoisseur in 
 musical matters, and he received Dinah's performance 
 so coldly that the poor girl left the room quite dis- 
 tressed, and Katherine scolded him roundly for his 
 unkindness and lack of appreciation. 
 
 "If you think I am going into ecstasies over that 
 little Jew, you're mistaken, Katherine," said Ward 
 finally. " Her father's a salesman in a poor shabby 
 store near Fulton Ferry, and can't talk two words of 
 decent English. The idea of your getting up a concert 
 for that creature ! why, it's a disgrace to think of it. 
 Your musical reputation won't bear it." 
 
 " Why don't you say something about her playing ? " 
 asked Katherine, her eyes fairly blazing. " Social posi- 
 tion has nothing to do with musical talent, and some of 
 our greatest musicians have been little Jews." 
 
 " Well now, you needn't fall into a rage, Kate, although 
 it's very becoming," said Ward, looking a trifle disgusted 
 and somewhat amused. " I know a good deal more about 
 practical life than you do, and I can tell you that con- 
 cert will fall flat, unless you play the most of the num- 
 bers yourself. I wish I had known who this Miss 
 Kuntzer was, and I never would have allowed you to 
 get in so deep with her," he added thoughtfully. 
 
 " Allowed ! " cried Katherine, the red in her cheeks 
 deepening visibly ; " since when did you become my
 
 134 WHICH WINS 
 
 lord and master, Mr. Ward ? Maybe you think one 
 gives up one's character and freedom when one promises 
 to marry, but, if so, here is the contract ! " and she drew 
 off the large diamond which Ward had placed upon her 
 finger as symbol of betrothal, with a very pretty air of 
 indifference. 
 
 Ward stood still a moment biting his lip, for this was 
 indeed going a little too far ; but Katherine was so 
 beautiful in her haughty disdain, and he so disliked to 
 be beaten in a game which interested him, that he pres- 
 ently laughed, and, taking the ring, put it back upon her 
 white finger. 
 
 He held the soft, warm hand caressingly in his a 
 moment, and then said tenderly, " What a spitfire you 
 are, Katherine; but you'll let me say 'allow ' sometime, 
 won't you ? " 
 
 " Let you ? " cried Katherine, withdrawing her hand 
 quickly, " why, don't you know that's a woman's word 
 after she's married ? It sounds very unbecoming from 
 your lips, I assure you, Stephen." 
 
 The plans for the concert went on much to Ward's 
 annoyance, who was more than ever determined thereby 
 to put a stop to his wife's musical career after their 
 marriage. Katherine believed that Miss Kuntzer needed 
 the training she could only obtain in a German conser- 
 vatory, to give the proper finish to her musical culture, 
 and she was resolved that she would raise as large a 
 sum as possible for her by this concert. The affair was to 
 be held in Steinway Hall, and several prominent musi- 
 cians were to appear on the programme, as a result of 
 Katherine's persuasive powers. She herself, however, 
 was determined not to play at all, and this seemed the 
 height of absurdity to Ward, who was anxious that his 
 betrothed should distinguish herself in every possible 
 way before her marriage, with a dim idea that in that
 
 KATHERINE'S IMPRACTICALITY 135 
 
 way she would more fitly dignify the position she would 
 occupy as his wife, and make her withdrawal from 
 publicity more marked. 
 
 " I am sorry to disappoint you, Stephen," she said 
 one day, when Ward had been expostulating with her 
 upon the subject ; " but you see I want this concert to 
 reflect great credit upon Dinah. She is the only lady 
 upon the programme, and the other players are well- 
 known professionals, between whom and Dinah no in- 
 vidious comparisons will be drawn ; but if I play " 
 
 "Well, what if you play ?" said Ward impatiently; 
 " you are a professional, and Dinah is your pupil." 
 
 " Yes, I know that, Stephen," replied Katherine ; "but 
 don't you see? I am a woman, and handsome, and 
 people are so absurd. They will recall me just to see 
 me come before the audience again, and they won't 
 appreciate Dinah according to her worth at all." 
 
 "Oh, if that isn't the most ridiculous notion I ever 
 heard of ! " cried Ward, laughing. " And that's the 
 mysterious reason for your refusal ? It ought to be 
 published in the morning papers," and Ward laughed 
 to himself, amused at the astuteness of Katherine's 
 analysis of the situation, and still more amused at 
 what he considered the feminine impracticality of her 
 decision. 
 
 He was, however, determined that she should give way, 
 and finding her rather blue one day over the slow sale 
 of the tickets, he had an idea. 
 
 Dropping in upon a musical friend that evening, who 
 was wealthy, and interested in the approaching concert, 
 he commiserated him upon the slow sale of the seats. 
 
 " Yes," said the gentleman ; " they would go much 
 faster if Miss Woolcott would play. Can't you persuade 
 her to do so ? " 
 
 " The only thing that would influence her is the pos-
 
 136 WHICH WINS 
 
 sible success of the concert," replied Ward : " if she 
 thought it would sell a hundred seats more, I suppose 
 she would play." 
 
 "Egad! I'll go and see her!" cried the gentleman, 
 seizing his hat. "I'll buy a hundred myself with 
 that condition. It would be nothing to get rid of 
 them." 
 
 " Don't mention my name ! " cried Ward as his friend 
 disappeared, and he laughed to himself as he walked 
 leisurely home. 
 
 " If you can't manage it one way, try another," he said, 
 smiling. " Who would have thought that lunatic would" 
 take fire so easily ? But Katherine will play ; she can't 
 resist the incarnate enthusiasm of greenbacks." 
 
 Sure enough Katherine did play, and told him of her 
 decision with such a charming show of yielding to his 
 preference, as well as the financial persuasions of her 
 musical friend, that Ward was in high feather. 
 
 But alas for the result ! The concert was a grand 
 success as a matter of course, and Katherine was encored 
 three times : " Entirely on account of my clothes and 
 my looks, dear," she explained to Dinah ; but poor 
 Dinah, nervous over a first appearance in public, played 
 but indifferently, and received not a single encore. 
 Ward found Katherine in tears the next evening as he 
 came into the half-lighted drawing-room. 
 
 " Hallo ! what's the matter ? " he exclaimed, turning 
 up the gas, and discovering Katherine upon a distant 
 sofa. 
 
 " Stephen ! it ended just as I expected," said 
 Katherine, rising and wiping her eyes. " Dinah feels 
 so discouraged she declares she was never intended for 
 an artist, and thinks she had better learn typewriting 
 and enter a business career. It would have been better 
 if I had not played, even if we did make less money ! "
 
 NOT LOVE, BUT INEXPERIENCE 137 
 
 she added ; " I wouldn't have had her feel so hurt for 
 anything," and Katherine walked about with an incon- 
 solable air which was highly affecting. 
 
 Ward, however, was not at all sympathetic. " Dinah 
 is simply putting on airs," he said ; " you're altogether 
 too easily taken in, Katherine; just tell her to come off 
 of her high horse, or you won't give her the money, and 
 you will see how quickly she'll revive." 
 
 " Why, Stephen, the money is not mine to give ! " 
 replied Katherine in surprise ; " it was a benefit concert, 
 and the proceeds were hers as a matter of course. You 
 have no conception of the feelings of artists, and you 
 shouldn't judge them by business principles," and Kath- 
 erine would not be comforted until Dinah was fairly 
 started for Berlin, provided with every comfort her 
 conscience-stricken friend could urge upon her for the 
 voyage. 
 
 There were days, however, when the musical nature 
 was pre-eminent in Katherine, and the imperious woman 
 entirely disappeared ; and these days were perhaps most 
 frequent, for her life had been so far a dream, inter- 
 rupted by very few practical decisions, and her theories 
 in regard to it were therefore somewhat vague and in- 
 consequent. A friend who was more experienced and 
 worldly, said to her one day, 
 
 "Is your money settled on you, Katherine, so that 
 your husband can't get hold of it ? " 
 
 Katherine laughed. " W T hy, he has it all now," she 
 said ; " I've given it to him to invest." 
 
 Her friend looked shocked. " You impractical crea- 
 ture ! " she exclaimed ; " you ought to have some one to 
 take care of you." 
 
 Katherine was greatly amused. " The idea of talking 
 that way ! " she cried ; " Mr. Ward has twenty times as 
 much money as I have. What should he care about my
 
 138 WHICH WINS 
 
 little pile ? A man and wife own everything in com- 
 mon, don't they ? " 
 
 " I hope it will turn out so in your case," responded 
 her friend solemnly, and Katherine laughed to herself 
 afterwards, at the portentous seriousness of her manner. 
 
 " Stephen thinks a great deal of money, I know," she 
 said to herself, " but he is a perfectly honorable man, 
 and he certainly wouldn't defraud his own wife." 
 
 Katherine thought of many things in those weeks, as 
 she ran her fingers over the piano keys, but it is safe to 
 say, she did not stop to realize what marriage meant. 
 She could not fancy herself as married to Stephen. Her 
 future with him was always a hazy distance, in which 
 he seemed a dim and somewhat menacing outline ; but 
 music, music, filled the future as it did the present, and 
 everything else was shadowy. To her the world had no 
 concrete form. She lived among figures of her own 
 creation, as vivid as they were charming.
 
 THE SHADOW FALLS 139 
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 THE SHADOW FALLS 
 
 VARIOUS liabilities which he was unprepared to meet 
 had obliged John to put a mortgage on his crop, and 
 though the yield promised to be all that any one could 
 ask, John took little delight in its ripening wealth. 
 
 As he harvested the rich finely matured ears, and stored 
 them away in the cribs which were hardly large enough 
 to hold them, he wondered what the outcome would be, 
 and whether any one would want his corn who would 
 be willing to pay a living price for it. The mortgage on 
 his crop would shortly be due, and the money for that 
 must be forthcoming, whether the corn brought anything 
 or not ; and as John looked forward to the approaching 
 weeks, and thought of the possibilities in store for him, 
 he felt that life offered very little to hope for. 
 
 As the days went on he found that it was an impossi- 
 bility to sell his crop; corn brought but ten cents a 
 bushel, and wheat forty, and there was no sale for it 
 at that price. He made up his mind that he must get 
 Mr. Leverson to renew the loan, and must borrow money 
 on his household goods, if possible, to pay the interest 
 on it. He rode over to Fulton one day with this in 
 view, and was coldly received by Mr. Leverson, who 
 began to think that he must have been mistaken in 
 considering Mr. Thurston a wealthy man, since he 
 seemed subject to the vicissitudes of any penniless 
 farmer. To John's surprise he learned that Mr. Lever- 
 son no longer held the mortgage on his crop.
 
 140 WHICH WINS 
 
 " I sold to Mr. Bingham some time ago," said that 
 worthy ; " he's bought up the mortgages ou a good many 
 of the crops in the neighborhood as a sort of speculation, 
 and he won't be apt to renew your loan." 
 
 " But what does he intend to do ? " asked John, 
 seized by a sort of consternation, as an idea of Mr. 
 Bingham's intention dawned upon him. 
 
 " Well, of course he wants the crop," replied Mr. 
 Leverson coldly ; " you know he has large deals on 
 hand in the Chicago grain market, and he gets trans- 
 portation so cheap that he can make where others are 
 ruined. I'm sorry for you, Mr. Thurston, but it can't 
 be helped." 
 
 John went home feeling stunned. If his household 
 goods were free, he might get a loan on them to liberate 
 his crops, but he realized suddenly that in that case, his 
 crop would be on his hands and his furniture gone, for 
 he saw no prospect of being able to pay off any mort- 
 gage. He received notice one day that unless his note 
 was paid upon a certain date, his grain would be carried 
 off by Mr. Bingham's men. " It's the beginning of the 
 end," said John, setting his lips firmly together, as he 
 thought of all the desperate expedients possible to avert 
 the threatened evil. He sought eagerly in town for 
 work, and managed to get various short engagements 
 at different times, but it was impossible in the small 
 town of Fulton to find a regular situation, at that 
 season, which would enable himself and his mother to 
 live ; and even if he could do so, he felt that in the 
 feeble state of his mother's health at present, the shock 
 of leaving the farm in such a way would kill her, and 
 he seemed traversing a labyrinth from which there was 
 no escape. Besides the mortgages on everything else, 
 he had been obliged to let the men from whom he had 
 bought his implements take security on his household
 
 THE FIRST PRIVATION 141 
 
 goods, and he could neither move these nor dispose of 
 them at present. 
 
 Watson had learned the fate of the crop, and one 
 evening John saw him filling some bags of corn from 
 one of the cribs. 
 
 " What are you going to do, Watson ? " he asked in 
 surprise, as Watson stowed the bags safely away in the 
 barn. 
 
 " Wot's ye goin' ter do when the corn's gone, I'd like 
 ter know ? " asked Watson in his argumentative tone. 
 
 "I don't see, Watson; that's what I'm trying to think 
 out," returned John, passing his hand over his forehead 
 wearily. 
 
 " Wai, while yer thinkin', jist stow away some more 
 o' them bags," said Watson ; " I've lived on corn coffee 
 an' bread made o' pounded corn afore now, an' it's 
 better'n starvation, I kin tell ye." 
 
 John looked at Watson's thin face and pale, eager 
 eyes, with a wonder dawning in his own whether it was 
 really better. Whether it was preferable to die and try 
 the experiment of another existence, without a body to 
 be housed and fed, or to struggle on, pushed farther and 
 farther to the wall by men who represented forces which 
 seemed to be working relentlessly for the extinction of 
 all nobility and freedom in mankind. 
 
 " And yet there is a meaning in it sometimes," John 
 mused as he fed his cows. " The rich co-operate suc- 
 cessfully, why can't the poor ? In that question, I am 
 sure, lies the whole solution of the mystery of distribu- 
 tion." And as John paused at the door of the barnyard 
 with his milk-pail in his hand, the picture of a re- 
 organized society seemed to float before his mental 
 vision. There were the workers, but how different ! no 
 longer haggard, desperate, brutalized ; their faces were 
 pure, their eyes bright, and thoughtful earnestness was
 
 142 WHICH WINS 
 
 written on their brows, while no suggestion of oppres- 
 sion or want was visible in their erect forms and happy 
 features. 
 
 "And money could do all that," said John, as the 
 vision faded, and he came back to a realization of his 
 full milk-pail, which was in danger of losing its precious 
 burden from his careless handling. " That is, the proper 
 distribution and circulation of money and industry could 
 do it, and nothing else. Strange," he added, " what 
 spiritual possibilities lie in material things. A race of 
 men nourished in co-operative industry could become in 
 a short time mental and spiritual beings, simply from the 
 opportunity for development which must open before 
 them. Why must human beings always be strangled ! " 
 he went on fiercely. " It would seem as if God created 
 man with the cruel delight of a Nero in watching human 
 pain, when one looks over the world and sees it filled 
 with an utterly unnecessary suffering. Ah, it could all 
 be so different, if the divine in us would only become 
 predominant ! " 
 
 John's thoughts were fiercer next day, when Mr. 
 Bingham's wagons rumbled into the yard to carry away 
 his grain, and his mother came to him in great excite- 
 ment to ask him if he had sold it. John was forced to 
 tell her the truth, and he never forgot the expression 
 with which she turned away. It was the beginning of 
 death, he thought. 
 
 After that Mrs. Thurston seemed to feel a morbid 
 terror of every one who came about the place. One 
 morning Watson, who had searched the house over for 
 her, found her in one of the deserted chicken coops. 
 
 "Why, Mis. Thurston!" he exclaimed in astonish- 
 ment, " wot be ye doin' here ? " 
 
 " Watson ! " cried the poor lady, clinging to his 
 arm, " I saw a man driving up in a buggy, and I'm sure
 
 MRS. THURSTON SUFFERS 143 
 
 it's a constable with a notice about the stock. I can't 
 see him, Watson ; you go and talk to him, won't you ? " 
 And Mrs. Thurston entirely forgot for the moment that 
 Watson was a hireling. How strange it is that in 
 periods of the deepest anxiety artificial barriers fade 
 away, and leave us face to face with the realities of 
 human nature ! 
 
 John saw his mother fading daily, growing nervous 
 and hysterical from care and lack of proper nourishment, 
 for it was now some weeks since they had been able to 
 have any food except potatoes and corn meal. Even the 
 forty-cent tea, which Mrs. Thurston had scoffed at in 
 the beginning of their economies, was now an unheard- 
 of luxury. And the agony of helplessness seemed 
 harder to bear than anything, John thought. He talked 
 to Watson bitterly, forgetting the moderation he had 
 always sought to preserve in social topics, and speak- 
 ing often, as his mother would have said, like a 
 " dynamiter." 
 
 But when one is driven to the wall by the impious 
 action of unjust laws, one does not pause for nice dis- 
 tinctions or a gentler phrase, and so John found it. He 
 met Mr. Bingham one day as he was returning from a 
 neighbor's where he had been called to minister to a 
 sick horse. 
 
 " Ah, Mr. Thurston, how do you do ? " remarked that 
 gentleman affably. " How is business at your place this 
 winter ? " 
 
 " Well, you ought to know, Mr. Bingham," cried 
 John : " you took my crops ! " 
 
 j' Yes, that's true ! " replied the other, rather startled 
 at such abruptness from one he was in the habit of con- 
 sidering a gentleman. " I was really very sorry about 
 that, Mr. Thurston," he added confidentially ; " you re- 
 member I made you an offer which you refused, and of
 
 144 WHICH WINS 
 
 course you can scarcely hold me responsible for the 
 result ! " 
 
 "No, Mr. Bingham, I don't hold you responsible ex- 
 actly, but I think the system which made you, and 
 makes other men like you, a very dangerous one," he 
 added bitterly. " If I could blame myself or you, I 
 should feel better about it, and more hopeful," he con- 
 fessed ; " but to feel that one is cheated and trampled 
 upon, and blame nothing but the ' times,' is hard." 
 
 " The times are hard, that's true, Mr. Thurston," re- 
 marked Mr. Bingham, warming toward John, as he fan- 
 cied him beginning to feel the abjectness of his condition, 
 "and there is a great deal of suffering for which we 
 must put our hands in our pockets," he added benig- 
 nantly. 
 
 "Yes, the times in the guise of the Santa Fe road 
 turned eleven hundred people out of their homes this 
 last year," exclaimed John, unable to repress all his 
 feeling, " and I learn that in the same year ten thousand 
 babies died of starvation in New-York city, so I begin 
 to feel that whatever happens to me I shall have plenty 
 of company," and John lifted his hat and walked on, 
 feeling that social contact with this man, who seemed to 
 his excited nerves fairly reeking with prosperity, was 
 more than he could bear. 
 
 When he reached home, he found that the constable 
 had just driven off his cattle for the mortgage he had 
 placed upon them in the fall, and Watson was walking 
 back and forth in the kitchen, using very abusive lan- 
 guage because he had not been warned of the event in 
 time to save one milch cow from the herd. 
 
 " Why, Watson ! " exclaimed John, " they had no busi- 
 ness to take all; the mortgage didn't cover half their 
 value." 
 
 "Waal, wot difference d'ye 'spose that there makes
 
 JOHN LEARNS TO GO HUNGRY 145 
 
 ter them fellers ? " asked Watson ; " don't they know 
 mighty well that ye ain't got nothin' to pay a lawyer 
 fur gittin' on em back ? They'll take 'em all every 
 time, ef ye ain't sharp enuff to git 'em outn the way 
 afore they come. I'd a' led two o' them cows over to my 
 shanty, fur yer ma she needs the milk right bad, but 
 they was on me afore I knowed it, an' they wouldn't 
 hear no reason 'bout the vally o' the mortgage. The 
 only thing fur ye to try, Mr. Thurston, is to git suthin' 
 ter do in town, an' jump this here ranch. Yer ma 
 won't do no good here after them constables hez riled 
 her up so many times, an' ye'll hev to git out." 
 
 John realized the value of Watson's advice. Their 
 coal was all gone, and they were absolutely penniless. 
 It would be useless to follow their struggle through the 
 winter, to tell how John got his cattle back only to have 
 them driven off again by the constable ; how he tried 
 this thing and that in the struggle to keep the wolf 
 from the door, until at last his mother grew so feeble 
 that he dared not leave her alone long at a time. 
 
 For Mrs. Thurston had plainly entered upon the last 
 scenes of her earthly career. She faded gradually from 
 day to day, growing gentle and uncomplaining mean- 
 while, to a degree which touched Watson to the heart. 
 She no longer fired up at his remarks upon social equal- 
 ity, and seemed to have grown indifferent even to the 
 expression of sentiments which could only be termed 
 anarchical. 
 
 "She don't seem to keer nothin' 'bout fam'ly," said 
 Watson to himself sorrowfully, "an' I ain't heerd her 
 mention the advantages o' eddication fur a month back." 
 
 At that moment Watson's attention was attracted by 
 a lively squawking in the stubble of the field near by. 
 
 "Ef that ain't one o' them darned chickens o' Nichols's 
 way over here agin ! ' he exclaimed, in great wrath ; " the
 
 146 WHICH WINS 
 
 blamed ijits, they can't git enough ter eat to hum, an' 
 ain't sense to know ther's nothin' here ! " and he took 
 up a stick to throw after the offending fowl, when, 
 suddenly struck by a new idea, he vaulted over the fence 
 in great haste. 
 
 " I'll ketch one o' them thar pesky things, an' make 
 Mis' Thurston some broth," he thought ; " may chirk 
 her up a bit, an' keep the breath in her body a day 
 longer, anyhow." And over the stubble went Watson, 
 while the chicken squawked and fluttered, now appar- 
 ently under his feet and then a yard away, but always 
 just out of his reach, as if all the perverseness of the 
 fowl kingdom were concentrated in its small body. 
 
 "By jingo!" shrieked Watson, "I'll roast ye alive!" 
 and he made a dive at the hapless chicken, which strug- 
 gled just away from his hand, and always in the direc- 
 tion of the Nichols's homestead. Watson made a detour 
 and headed off the invincible fowl, which immediately 
 turned sideways, and before he knew it was once more 
 making a bee line for its nightly roosting-place. 
 
 " Darn ye ! " cried Watson. " Ye think ye kin git 
 ahead o' me, do ye ? ye think ye got more sense 'n long 
 Watson, do ye ? drat your old hide, I'll bust yer pesky 
 crop before I'm done with ye ! " 
 
 Watson making a sudden lunge sprawled full length 
 on the stubble, but the chicken was under him, squawk- 
 ing lustily as it sought to escape the fate which over- 
 whelmed it. 
 
 Watson picked himself up with a sudden return of 
 his usual calm demeanor, and scientifically wringing the 
 chicken's neck, turned homewards. His thoughts went 
 mournfully back to Mrs. Thurston as he walked on, and 
 he could not help moralizing a little. 
 
 " I wouldn't never a b'lieved," he reflected, " that fam- 
 'ly pride could a took the place o' back bone, but there
 
 WATSON AS A PHYSICIAN 147 
 
 'tis. Mis' Thurston, now; she jist lived on, thinkin' 
 how fine she were, an' how much the Lord thought on 
 her, an' jist the minit it looks as though the Lord don't 
 keer no more fur her nor other folks, she gives right 
 down an' ain't no 'count. 'Taint the corn-bread diet 
 that's a-killin' her, no sir ! them idees 'bout ekil rights 
 hez jist sort o' struck in, an' done her up. Ef she was 
 to hear to-day that that there bank account was riz agin, 
 she'd be chipper ez a squirrel." And Watson shook his 
 head as he entered the kitchen, and saw Mrs. Thurston 
 crouched over the little fire of chips which John had 
 made for her, hardly looking up as he entered. 
 
 " Mis' Thurston ! " he cried, as he held up the chicken, 
 "I'm a-goin' ter hev a banquet; seems like I want ter 
 feel like one o' them bigbugs at Delmonico's, an' bein' 
 as I ain't never been thar, an' ain't likely ter be, I'm 
 a-goin' ter set 'em up with chicken broth an' sassyfras 
 tea ! " 
 
 " Watson ! " exclaimed Mrs. Thurston, with some 
 access of her old dignity, " where did you get that 
 chicken ? " 
 
 " Don't ye go to worryin' 'bout that chicken now, Mis' 
 Thurston," replied Watson, commencing his prepara- 
 tions for the banquet with a great deal of unnecessary 
 noise and confusion ; " that there chicken come straight 
 from heaven, like the manner did to them ongrateful 
 Jews in the desert, an' I ain't a-goin' ter be onchristian 
 'bout it ez they was. Thar's nothin' like a wegetable 
 diet fur brains an' thinkin', an' all that, but a taste o' 
 spring chicken do tech up the insides right lively now 
 an' then, I tell ye, specially when it's a giddy thing like 
 this here. Now thar's a chicken, Mis' Thurston," con- 
 tinued Watson, holding the dismembered body out for 
 the lady's inspection, " wot ain't ben in this world long 
 enough ter git no sense at all. It's like Mag was when
 
 148 WHICH WINS 
 
 she fust come to live with you no kind o' discretion, ye 
 know." 
 
 Watson hoped that Mrs. Thurston's attention would 
 be roused to ask after Maggie, but it was not. " I reckon 
 she's forgot all 'bout the typewriting" he murmured to 
 himself, as he put the chicken on the fire, and busied 
 himself with a make-believe task. 
 
 "Mag's a-comin' in to spend Sunday with us afore 
 long," he ventured after a while ; " she do find Fulton 
 mighty lonesome sometimes, I reckon, though she's 
 a-gittin' on fine with the typewritin'." 
 
 " Has she a good place ? " asked Mrs. Thurston with 
 some interest. 
 
 "Oh, jist fair," replied Watson. "Most o' them fine 
 "ladies seems to b'lieve a hired gal ain't no right to think 
 o' tryin' to be nothin' else, an' Mag's had some pretty 
 hard rubs a-gittin' on, but she's a-goin' ter night school, 
 an' she'll git thar after while. I'll bet on Mag ! " 
 
 As Mrs. Thurston still made no reply, Watson exe- 
 cuted a spirited pantomime behind her back, expressive 
 of his despair over this futile attempt to rouse family 
 pride and social prejudice to the rescue of a failing 
 body. 
 
 " Watson," said Mrs. Thurston suddenly, " how do 
 you happen to be over here so long ? Don't they need 
 you at home ? Haven't you anything to do ? " 
 
 " Lord sakes, Mis Thurston ! I don't see much on ye 
 nohow lately, an' there ain't nothin' doin', an' Mr. Thur- 
 ston jist axed me ter look in on ye while he stepped over 
 to town, an' I thought ketchin' the chicken 'twere a fine 
 chance for a banquet, ye see ! " 
 
 "Yes, yes, I know, Watson, but you can't afford to 
 give your services for nothing," said Mrs. Thurston 
 anxiously, "and you mustn't feel obliged to stay with 
 me. I'm surprised that John should have asked you,"
 
 THE PATIENT CANNOT KEVIVE 149 
 
 she added. " I'm not sick, only I seem to feel a little 
 tired lately ; I suppose I'm growing old." 
 
 Watson wiped his eyes violently behind her back, and 
 bustled about, drawing out a little table, and putting on 
 it a clean napkin, a pretty bowl and cup and saucer, 
 which he had observed Mrs. Thurston to be fond of. 
 
 " The banquet is a-goin' ter begin, Mis' Thurstou," he 
 remarked facetiously, pouring out the sassafras tea. " I 
 hope yer 're ready fur champagne ! " 
 
 Mrs. Thurston smiled in recognition of Watson's kind- 
 ness, but it was a very watery sort of a smile, he thought, 
 and she seemed scarcely able to swallow the chicken 
 broth. 
 
 " Now, Mis' Thurston, ye ain't no good fur a banquet 
 at all ! " cried Watson in dismay ; " ain't ye goin' ter 
 make no hole in that there desert chicken ? " 
 
 "It's too bad after all your trouble, Watson, but I 
 don't seem to be able to eat much lately : corn bread 
 doesn't agree with me very well, and we haven't any 
 other. I had no idea you were such a good cook," she 
 added, looking wistfully at the little table he had pre- 
 pared with such pains. 
 
 "Oh, thar ain't nothin' I can't do, from settin' type 
 to diggin' taters," explained Watson. " I reckon that's 
 why I never made nothin' go; ef I couldn't a jacked so 
 many trades, I 'low I'd ben. a rascally nabob like Bing- 
 ham; but Mis' Thurston, ye ain't feelin' wuss, be ye ? " 
 he cried in alarm, seeing her lean back in her chair pale 
 and faint. " I guess ye better lay down, an' I'll go an' 
 git Rose to come over a while ; " and lifting her tenderly 
 in his arms, Watson carried the little woman, who had 
 grown very light and shadowy of late, into the bedroom. 
 
 Covering her softly with a blanket he found near by, 
 Watson started home, shaking his head, as he thought 
 of the tasteful appointments of the room in which Mrs.
 
 150 WHICH WINS 
 
 Thurston was dying of starvation. "Fur that's the size 
 on't," said Watson : " starvation o' hopes, starvation o' 
 sperrit, an' starvation o' stomach's enuff to kill a horse. 
 I'd 'a ben dead long ago, ef I'd 'a ben born half ez high 
 strung ez her ; but me an' my ole woman hez got so 'cus- 
 tomed ter moggin' along on a wegetable diet that we 
 kin stan' most anything." 
 
 Rose hurried back with her father, and rendered Mrs. 
 Thurston comfortable, while Watson busied himself 
 making a fire in her room. 
 
 John had been obliged to burn up one of his outbuild- 
 ings for fuel, and with the remnants of a long-deserted 
 chicken-coop Watson soon had a fire which sent a grate- 
 ful warmth through Mrs. Thurston's room. As he and 
 Rose returned to the kitchen the girl's eyes rested 
 greedily on the table with Watson's preparations for a 
 banquet. 
 
 " Dad," she remarked hesitatingly, " do ye reckon Mis' 
 Thurston '11 want that there chicken ? " 
 
 " No, no," said Watson ; " I'm af eared her feediii' time 
 's a'most passed, Rose." 
 
 " Wai, 'tain't right to waste nothin', dad," said Rose, 
 stepping to the table, and lifting the bowl of broth 
 eagerly to her lips. " I reckon ma would like some on't," 
 she added thoughtfully, setting down the dish with a 
 longing glance. 
 
 "I guess ye never tasted chicken in all your life, 
 Rose," remarked her father, appreciating the situation, 
 "so jist go ahead an' eat a bite, an' take the rest home 
 to yer ma an' the young uns; it '11 do you all good," he 
 continued, seeing her hesitate; "but hurry up, fur Mis' 
 Thurston may want ye." 
 
 Rose ate a small share of the chicken with great rel- 
 ish, and, reserving very much the larger portion, carried 
 it unselfishly to the little ones and her mother. "I
 
 WATSON'S REFLECTIONS 151 
 
 ain't glad Mis' Thurston's sick," she reflected, as she 
 hurried on, "but it were a grand piece, o' luck that dad 
 ketched that chicken jist when he did. I kin taste it 
 yet ; " and who knows but the seeds of a noble aspiration 
 were planted in Kose's mind by that unexpected morsel 
 of undreamed-of luxury which fell in her way. 
 
 " Ef I could a' ketched that thar chicken a week back," 
 reflected Watson, as he sat waiting for Hose to return, " it 
 might a' dun her more good ; or ef she'd a' ben fur enuff 
 gone not ter ax whar I got it, she might a' swall'ed it; 
 but she knowed I jist ez good ez stole it, an' she wouldn't 
 never hev a dollar ter pay fur it, that's whar the rub 
 come. It's mighty hard ter starve," concluded Watson, 
 rubbing his cuff across his eyes, " but it cuts wuss some- 
 how when ye ain't used ter it." 
 
 Ah, Watson ! Mrs. Thurston lying there, so white and 
 suffering, was only illustrating the pathos of your own 
 destiny, for is there anything worse than a starvation 
 which begins with life, ends only with death, and includes 
 not only the stomach but the soul ?
 
 152 WHICH WINS 
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 MRS. THURSTON'S DEATH 
 
 MRS. THURSTON never rose from her bed again. The 
 next morning John was visited by the officer who came 
 to compel him to vacate the farm. John had received 
 notice some time previously of the foreclosure of the 
 mortgage, but had delayed preparations for departure 
 from day to day, with a desperate feeling that he knew 
 not where to go. Now it seemed as if a decision were 
 imminent, but he could do nothing in the critical condi- 
 tion of his mother. 
 
 "Will you turn a dying woman out of doors?" he 
 said to the constable. " My mother can hardly live more 
 than a day or two, and I should like to have her die 
 peacefully in her bed, without being troubled by anxiety 
 as to my future in her last moments." 
 
 "Well, Mr. Thurston," replied the constable, "my 
 orders is to vacate the premises immejit; but if the old 
 lady lingers on a day or two, that is, if she's as bad as 
 you say, I'll wait on ye peaceable like. I'm darned if 
 I'll hold the office after this year," he added ; " I ben kept 
 that busy turnin' folks out o' doors lately, I ain't had 
 my reg'lar sleep, besides the strain on a man's narves," 
 and the officer scratched his head anxiously as if desir- 
 ous of opening the way to some new light on the social 
 question. 
 
 John thanked him for his complaisance, and returned 
 to his mother's bedside with a horrible feeling that he 
 was guilty of hastening her death, so full of dread was
 
 A TRAGICAL CUP OF TEA 153 
 
 he that her dying hour might be disturbed by the con- 
 stable's efforts at eviction. 
 
 "John," she said faintly, as he leaned over and took 
 her hand, " I believe I could drink a cup of tea and eat 
 a little toast if I had it." 
 
 John's heart contracted. There had not been a loaf 
 of white bread or a leaf of tea in the house for many 
 weeks. In an instant his mind canvassed the possibili- 
 ties of procuring them ; and he resolved to beg them of 
 Mrs. Nichols, who was still boarding Bingham's men, 
 and therefore would be apt to have them in the house, 
 though the tea would, of course, be of the cheapest 
 description. As he rose to carry out his design, his 
 mother pressed his hand. 
 
 " Don't leave me, dear," she whispered faintly. 
 
 " But, mother, the tea. I will be back in a moment," 
 replied John, bending over her with oh ! such a longing 
 desire to find some elixir for prolonging her precious 
 life, with such agony at the thought that he could do 
 nothing for her, nothing. 
 
 "Never mind," she whispered, looking at him with 
 her dying eyes ; " I forgot, we haven't any." 
 
 It seemed to John that his heart would break. Why 
 had he not done something ? why had he not found an 
 opening, he reflected bitterly, that would at least have 
 given his mother an assurance of dying in the midst of 
 the comforts of civilization, safe from starvation ? Wat- 
 son had gone to Fulton for a doctor; and John, finding 
 his mother had dropped asleep, went to seek Kose and 
 send her after the tea, adjuring her not to forget a little 
 milk and sugar to prepare the cup as Mrs. Thurston 
 liked it. 
 
 It is impossible to say what tale Rose told Mrs. 
 Nichols, but it must have been touching enough to 
 rouse her sympathy ; for, in a marvellously short space
 
 154 WHICH WINS 
 
 of time, she appeared herself, with a basket containing 
 the essentials for a cup of tea, and a loaf of white bread, 
 which, she told John, she just happened to have in the 
 house, for Mr. Bingham had been there, and he wouldn't 
 eat corn bread. 
 
 " It's a little stale," she added, " but all the better for 
 toast on that account ; " and she insisted upon staying 
 to offer her neighborly assistance if anything should 
 occur. 
 
 John made a fire to boil the kettle, and then returned 
 to his mother's bedside, to watch the gray shadow 
 creeping slowly but surely over the dear face. Was 
 there no way of lightening it ? would she never waken 
 and speak to him again ? he thought sadly, gazing at the 
 eyes which would not unclose, and feeling every now 
 and then the fluttering pulse, which seemed each moment 
 to grow weaker and weaker. Presently he heard a little 
 bustle outside, and the doctor came in with Watson. 
 He shook his head as he glanced at Mrs. Thurston, and 
 called for brandy. There was none in the house. 
 Whiskey ? " No, they had none. 
 
 ""You must be teetotalers, Mr. Thurston/' remarked 
 the doctor, looking about at the prettily furnished room ; 
 "folks usually have a little spirits in the house when 
 there's sickness." 
 
 John said nothing, and the doctor remarked, after a 
 pause, " Is your mother a vegetarian, Mr. Thurston ? " 
 
 " No," replied John ; " she is always a small eater, but 
 not a vegetarian." 
 
 "Now, if you were poor folks,". continued the doctor, 
 in that pleasant, explanatory manner, which physicians 
 so often have in the sick-room, " I should say this lady 
 was suffering from inanition, caused by imperfect nour- 
 ishment. Her symptoms all point that way." 
 
 "Doctor," said John in an agony, "don't for Heaven's
 
 A SUGGESTIVE LETTER 155 
 
 sake bother about what is the matter of her, but tell me 
 if there is any hope for her ! " 
 
 The doctor shook his head again, as he looked at the 
 pale, unconscious face upon the pillow. "I'm afraid 
 she is going fast, Mr. Thurston," he replied gently, 
 roused out of his usual professional apathy by the 
 agony of the young man's tone. " She may revive and 
 even take a little nourishment," he added, pouring a few 
 drops from a flask he took out of his pocket, and putting 
 it to her lips. " Give her some of this every few min- 
 utes," he said, rising ; " it's all I can do for her." 
 
 Through the long morning that followed, John sat by 
 his mother's side, putting a drop of the cordial to her 
 lips now and then, and looking in vain for some sign of 
 animation in her pale face. Mrs. Nichols made a cup 
 of tea and brought it to John, begging him sympatheti- 
 cally to take a little ; but it seemed to him that a drop 
 of it would choke him, with the doctor's words ringing 
 in his ears, and his mother lying there so white and still 
 before him. 
 
 Watson came in after a while with a letter which he 
 had found at the post-office, but had forgotten to deliver 
 in his anxiety. It bore the postmark of Kansas City, 
 and John opened it after it had lain before him for 
 half an hour, with a listless consciousness of indifference 
 as to its contents. It was from Ward, he saw at once, 
 and ran thus : 
 
 DEAR PARSIFAL, I suppose you received my cards, and 
 realize that by this time I am a benedict, and it is needless to say 
 a happy one. We are fairly settled in Kansas City, and Mrs. Ward 
 is luxuriating in the possession of a new Steinway, which she pro- 
 nounces perfect. She has rather astonished people out here by her 
 playing, I assure you, and promises to become a social sensation of 
 very large proportions. 
 
 By the way, I was in at Norton's agency this morning, and heard 
 of your misfortune in regard to the farm. I can't tell you how
 
 156 WHICH WINS 
 
 sorry I am. Wish I were in a condition to help you out; but of 
 course the disturbance of opening up a new business and getting 
 married, too, leaves me rather short of cash. However, I can 
 offer you one thing, old fellow. You'll be looking around for 
 something to do, I suppose. Come and stay with us for a while. 
 Katherine will be delighted to entertain your mother, and you can 
 fill a vacancy in the office till something better turns up. Of 
 course you wouldn't want such a place as a permanency; it 
 wouldn't pay more than seventy-five dollars a month; but it will 
 help you to tide over for the time being. Katherine joins me in 
 good wishes to your mother. She has been much amused at my 
 account of you, and especially at your nickname of "Parsifal." 
 Let us hear from you soon, and believe me always your friend, 
 
 STEPHEN WARD. 
 
 " What a cordial letter for Ward to write ! " thought 
 John to himself, while his heart contracted at thought 
 of its contents, though he scarcely realized what they 
 meant to him from the depths of his new trouble. 
 
 "Seventy-five dollars a month ! " he muttered to him- 
 self. " Ward little dreams how large that has looked to 
 me lately ! Why did he not offer it before ? " and he 
 glanced toward the bed with a dull, pained sense of won- 
 dering whether the result might have been different if 
 Ward had thought of his needs earlier. 
 
 There was no suspicion in his mind as to the real 
 state of the case. It never occurred to him that there 
 could be a background of remorse behind Ward's cor- 
 diality, though he had often wondered how it happened 
 that Leverson disposed of his mortgage to a Kansas-City 
 firm. His knowledge of Ward's character would not 
 have led him to form any suspicion of his culpability ; 
 for, as he knew him, he was sharp and shrewd in all 
 business matters unscrupulous perhaps but not essen- 
 tially lacking in human feeling. 
 
 "Ward will drive a hard bargain," he had said to 
 himself several times recently, "but he wouldn't take 
 advantage of a friend." A remark which may have
 
 JOHN'S SELF-ACCUSATION 157 
 
 arisen from some dawning consciousness of deterioration 
 in Ward's character. 
 
 He rose and walked up and down the room, tortured 
 by the intense focus to which his thoughts seemed to be 
 drawn by Ward's letter. Is there anything in life more 
 agonizing than that clear vision which comes to us in 
 deep suffering, when we seem to see our past life mapped 
 out before us, and realize suddenly the things we might 
 have done, but failed to undertake ? As John looked at 
 the scene spread before his inward eye, he wrung his 
 hands. It had been one failure after another, yet what 
 could he have done to alter the result ? 
 
 He seemed to himself to have been the victim of 
 causes so gigantic that one human arm must count as 
 nothing against them ; and though the conviction that 
 he might have saved his fortunes would have been 
 unbearable, it seemed as if anything would be better 
 than the crushing sense of utter powerlessness under 
 which he bowed. 
 
 " To think that we are not alone, that the suffering 
 which we endure is weighing upon the whole world," 
 he said, pulling the curtain aside, and looking out on the 
 lawn just showing some patches of green under the 
 warmth of an April sun. It seemed as if his mind went 
 on mechanically recalling every event connected with 
 his settlement in Nebraska, and the distress which his 
 mother had endured on his account. How cheerily she 
 had insisted upon coming West to take care of him, and 
 now she was about to die for him ! If there was a sus- 
 picion of self-pity roused in John's heart by Ward's 
 letter, it vanished then and there. 
 
 He turned to the bedside with a fresh realization of 
 hig impending loss ; and, as he leaned over the invalid, 
 he saw to his surprise that she had wakened, and looked 
 up at him with a smile of recognition.
 
 158 WHICH WINS 
 
 " Dear mother ! " he cried, overjoyed suddenly at the 
 possibility that she might recover after all; "I have 
 some tea now ; will you drink a little ? " Seeing assent 
 in her eyes, he hastened to the kitchen, and returned 
 with a small tray. 
 
 " The toast is cold, mother, but the tea is hot ; and if 
 you drink this, I can make you some fresh toast in a 
 moment," he said, so glad at the chance of looking into 
 her dear eyes once more, that his hand trembled and he 
 spilled some of the precious tea. Gently he slipped an 
 arm under her head, and put the spoon to her lips. 
 
 " It is quite decent tea, mother," he cried ; " the kind 
 Mr. Bingham drinks, but not so nice as what we used to 
 have in New York, I am sure." 
 
 But, alas ! it was too late. Frightened at the gray 
 shadow he saw creeping over the face before him, John 
 hastily put down the cup and knelt by the bedside. 
 
 "John," she murmured with panting breath, " I'm not 
 afraid, it's better there ; " and that was all. 
 
 John buried his face on the pillow beside the dear 
 head which had held chief thought for him so many 
 years, and he forgot everything else. There is no time 
 at such moments. We sink into eternity, and the world 
 with its transient emotions slips away from the infinite 
 where we are. 
 
 Watson, coming in later, found them thus, the dead 
 face and the living. There was a question in his mind 
 as he touched John's arm. But fate was not so kind, 
 and John came back to the present again, to the world 
 of finance and difficulty. But he had lost something. 
 Do we not all leave a fraction behind us, a touch of the 
 crushing weight of our own individuality, when we 
 merge ourselves even for a moment in that mysterious 
 infinite where the soul is lost to sight ? Watson thought 
 so. To him John was never quite the same after he
 
 MRS. THURSTON'S FUNERAL 159 
 
 found him that day, and roused him once more to every- 
 day thinking and living. 
 
 " She died in time, Watson," said John bitterly, as 
 they stood by the door in the evening shadow ; " Wheeler 
 gave me two days." 
 
 Watson said nothing ; he was thinking of a practical 
 necessity which demanded consideration at the moment. 
 
 " Ye'll hev ter be a-buryin' of her, Mr. Thurston," he 
 said hesitatingly. "I reckon I better git out the ole 
 mule, an' ride over fur an undertaker." 
 
 John put up his hand. "Don't, Watson," he said 
 hurriedly ; " we'll talk about that to-morrow." 
 
 "Wai, come down ter my house an' let Rose git ye 
 suthin' ter eat," entreated Watson, frightened at the 
 tense look of the young man's face. 
 
 But John shook his head, and presently returned to 
 the room where the dead woman lay. Watson's sugges- 
 tion had started a new train of thought. No strange 
 hands should touch his mother's body, he determined; 
 110 coarse queries in regard to unpaid bills should come 
 into the atmosphere of her death. In his strained and 
 suffering mood he seemed doing her bidding as he went 
 about softly and gently, preparing her body for burial. 
 
 After a while he took a bit of candle and went out to 
 the barn, where there were some timbers he had taken 
 from the outbuilding he had torn down for fuel. He 
 fastened his light up more for form's sake than anything 
 else, for the white moonlight flooded the whole place, 
 and set to work fashioning as neatly as possible a box 
 to hold his mother's body. As he labored on, waking 
 echoes upon the silent prairie with the noise of saw and 
 plane, Watson put his head in at the door. 
 
 " Wot on airth are ye at, Mr. Thurston ? " he asked in 
 amazement. 
 
 "Watson," replied John, "I don't think my mother
 
 160 WHICH WIffS 
 
 would like to be buried on credit. I'm going to make 
 her coffin myself, and say my own prayer over her 
 resting-place." 
 
 " Wai, ef ye ain't the quarest ! " exclaimed Watson, 
 lost in astonishment. "An' ain't ye goin' ter hev the 
 preacher neither ? " he asked doubtfully. 
 
 "No," said John; "do you think I'll have that man 
 stand and pray over her, who never came near her after 
 he found she couldn't pay pew rent any longer ? Didn't 
 he help to starve her spiritually ? " 
 
 "She thought a heap o' church, though," responded 
 Watson, who had experienced Mrs. Thurston's churchly 
 rigor more than once, and was not at all sure she would 
 approve of her son's idea of a fitting funeral service. 
 
 " Yes, I know," said John quietly ; " but she would 
 feel as I do about this, I am sure, Watson. She felt the 
 treatment of that old hypocrite as much as I did, and he 
 sha'n't lay her to rest." 
 
 Watson watched John with a curious fascination, 
 until the task was finished, and they stood once more in 
 the still moonlight. 
 
 " We'll bury her under that big tree by the creek in 
 the morning, Watson," said John ; " she loved that spot," 
 and he wrung the hand of his simple friend. " Watson," 
 he said again, " I'll never forget how you've stood by me 
 in this trouble." 
 
 The kind-hearted fellow took these words as a dis- 
 missal for the time being, and went home, drawing his 
 cuff across his eyes more than once as he traversed the 
 moonlit distance to the little shanty where John's kind- 
 ness had provided him a home. 
 
 "I ain't done nothin'," he muttered; "but he ain't 
 like most folks, he sees wot ye'd like to do ef ye 
 could." 
 
 To John, the hours of watching beside his mother's
 
 THE SADDEST MOMENT 161 
 
 senseless body were very precious. He felt the presence 
 of her spirit with him, felt the relief which death had 
 brought her, and which had mirrored itself in her face 
 as she drew her last breath. So, though the agony of 
 the parting was still upon him, lie felt glad that she was 
 free ; glad that for her the weary struggle with the world 
 was over, and she was at rest. 
 
 But alas ! such comforting thoughts could not stay 
 with him, and the sense of his loneliness pressed upon 
 him again. 
 
 " She will be glad to have me go away from here," he 
 thought, as he stroked the cold hand he held in his; "even 
 in the other world she would worry over the results of a 
 corn-bread diet for me, and mourn to think she was not 
 here to share it ! mother, mother ! " he cried, " why 
 couldn't you live to leave this place with me ! "
 
 162 WHICH WINS 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 A NEW ATMOSPHERE 
 
 ONE evening, a few weeks later, John was in Kansas 
 City, dining at Ward's. A very elegant table it was to 
 which they sat down : a table covered with artistic china, 
 with beautiful silver and glittering cut-glass, for Ward 
 delighted in everything which displayed his wealth, and 
 his economies were hidden from the public eye ; he pre- 
 ferred to conceal them under such a shining mask that 
 their presence would never be suspected. 
 
 As John looked at the brilliant scene about him, he 
 could not but contrast it with the events which he had 
 experienced so recently ; arid though no bitterness from 
 his own sorrows clouded his spirit, he probably reflected 
 more upon the injustice of human conditions than he 
 would have done otherwise. To-night, with Katherine 
 smiling upon him from one end of the table, and Ward 
 all attention at the other, he could hardly be morose ; 
 and he showed his appreciation of the kindness about 
 him by banishing care from his countenance at least. 
 
 " I have not heard you play yet, Mrs. Ward," he said to 
 his beautiful hostess as they sat down. 
 
 " No," she replied ; " but you shall do so after dinner, 
 if you wish. I am always glad to play for people." 
 
 "You have been married six months and have not 
 given up your music," said John, with a smile. 
 
 " Oh, there is no fear of my giving it up," she replied ; 
 " it is my life. My only trouble is that Stephen objects 
 to my giving lessons and playing in public. I have not
 
 KATHERINE'S NEW DIGNITIES 163 
 
 promised yet to obey," she added, with a little laugh to 
 her husband ; " I have merely refrained out of deference 
 to his early married feelings." 
 
 John fancied there was the merest touch of bitterness 
 under these words, and his impression was strengthened 
 when Ward replied with some annoyance : " The idea of 
 her thinking of such a thing is so perfectly absurd, is it 
 not, Thurston ? She had better leave music lessons to 
 the poor devils who have bread and butter to think of. 
 People would never get through gossiping and won- 
 dering if Mrs. Stephen Ward went to giving music 
 lessons." 
 
 "Well," responded Katherine lightly, "Mrs. Ward 
 won't worry them yet a while. But I am a very inde- 
 pendent person, and I fairly pine to be doing something 
 in the world," she added, resting her elbow lightly on 
 the table. "I cannot spend my time as fashionable 
 women do, making calls, and giving luncheons. I want 
 to feel that I am a benefit to some one." 
 
 " But you can take it out in being a benefit to me," 
 said her husband. 
 
 "Oh, that won't do at all," she replied; "you are 
 pleased simply because I exist. I want to do something 
 which requires sacrifice on my part. Really," she con- 
 cluded, " I have done more thinking since Stephen took 
 away my object in life than I ever imagined possible. I 
 always absorbed myself in music, and the rest of the 
 world was a dream, more or less ; but lately, things are 
 getting painfully real." 
 
 "Come now, Katherine," exclaimed Ward, a little 
 brusquely, John thought, " what sort of a remark is that 
 for you to make ? John will think I am a regular Blue- 
 beard." 
 
 " Oh, it was not a personal remark : that is, not per- 
 sonal outside of myself," said Katherine, flushing some-
 
 164 WHICH WINS 
 
 what ; " the world always seems a trifle different after 
 one is married, does it not ? " 
 
 "I should think it would seem much more rosy to 
 Stephen," replied John, and then was disgusted with 
 himself for having made such a commonplace remark. 
 Katherine was not a woman to be flattered. In spite of 
 the beauty which was so resplendent that night, one felt 
 that it was not the best or greatest part of herself. 
 John compared her face with that one which had been 
 the accompaniment of his dreams so long ; and he found 
 the reality, while very different, hardly less charming 
 than the vision had been. 
 
 " Why don't you interest yourself in charities or church- 
 work ? " he asked experimentally. " I should think Ward 
 would approve of such feminine activities as that." 
 
 " Oh, as to charities," said Katherine, laughing, " Ste- 
 phen declares that I would give away everything he has, 
 if I could get my hands on it, and I must confess I am 
 not much of a church-goer as yet. We attend an Epis- 
 copal church, but music is my religion to such a degree 
 that I am not an enthusiastic worshipper in conventional 
 assemblies, especially when the music is bad," she added 
 with a little grimace. 
 
 "Katherine hasn't quite settled down into her new 
 environment yet," remarked Ward, in a tone which in- 
 dicated that he wished to see a new topic introduced 
 into the conversation. " She has been accustomed always 
 to a far less conventional life than we live here, but she 
 will grow into it after a while." 
 
 " Will she ? " thought John to himself, as he watched 
 the flush deepen on the face at the other end of the 
 table. " Will she harden and crystallize into lines which 
 others mark out for her, or will she find a path for 
 herself, and pursue it in spite of reproof and social 
 prejudice ? "
 
 WARD'S MARRIED FELICITY 165 
 
 . John could not help the questioning undercurrent 
 which went on in his thoughts during the remainder of 
 the dinner, and which surged rebelliously forward under 
 the commonplace inquiries which Ward made ; and he 
 answered until the dessert was served, and they went 
 back to the drawing-room. Ward was anxious that 
 John should hear his wife play, anxious that he should 
 realize all her brilliancy and accomplishments. John 
 was conscious of a sort of resentment at the way in 
 which he spoke of her talents, even at his manner of 
 leading her to the piano : it seemed to say so plainly, " I 
 own this woman ; see how valuable she is ! Wouldn't 
 she bring a great price in the market ? " 
 
 Katherine would not play immediately as Ward wished, 
 declaring it was too soon after dinner. 
 
 "Playing is thinking and feeling," she declared; "one 
 can't do it just after dining." So they sat and talked a 
 while in the softly lighted apartment, and then Katherine 
 went to the piano. 
 
 She played Schumann's first carnival, the one he 
 wrote and sent to Clara Wieck for her approval before 
 their marriage, and Ward was rather annoyed at the 
 odd romantic music, which had no showy effects for the 
 dazzling of a vulgar public. But when he saw John 
 intent and interested, he was better satisfied, for he 
 knew he was something of a connoisseur in music. As 
 Katherine finished, Ward snapped his watch loudly. 
 
 " Well, that's quite a feat," he cried ; " forty minutes, 
 Parsifal, and without her notes ! " 
 
 John smiled. " I have not heard that since the old 
 days at Berlin," he said ; " I cannot tell you what pleas- 
 ure you have given me." 
 
 " But that thing does not show off her technique at all," 
 objected Ward, who was not musician enough to appre- 
 ciate the difficulty of the performance. " Play him that
 
 166 WHICH WINS 
 
 intricate part from the Midsummer Night's Dream, 
 Katherine, or one of your Bach fugues now." 
 
 " No, not to-night," said John ; " I want to remember 
 the carnival, thank you : it brings back so many recol- 
 lections of other days." 
 
 He said good-night, feeling that in some mysterious 
 fashion a new interest had entered his life. He realized 
 as never before what a large portion of his waking and 
 sleeping dreams the memory of Katherine had filled 
 during the years since he had first seen her. The dreams 
 of other days had vanished, but what meant this flesh 
 and blood reality, whom he had no right to think of, and 
 whom Ward owned and appraised, evidently ? " 
 
 A warm fresh personality had slipped into the blank- 
 ness and desolation of his thoughts.
 
 JOHN LEARNS SOMETHING OF BUSINESS 167 
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 JOHN LEARNS SOMETHING OF BUSINESS 
 
 LIFE took on many new phases to John in the next 
 few weeks ; and he felt that the quiet years on the farm 
 had put an element into his life and thoughts which had 
 been lacking there before. He found himself judging 
 men by different standards, searching among them for 
 different ideals than those which had appealed to him in 
 former days, though he could see that the influences 
 dominating him at present were a natural outgrowth of 
 the tendencies of former years. 
 
 His longing for liberty and equality had taken a more 
 definite shape ; and he found himself instinctively watch- 
 ing for a desecration of his ideal in this direction, in 
 the forms of business and social life, and eager to follow 
 all trains of thought or action which led to the shaking 
 off of conventional prejudice. He could not have hap- 
 pened upon a better place for the intensification of all 
 his humanitarian notions than a broker's office, for there, 
 if anywhere, the spirit of Shylock is present, and the 
 medium of exchange is the flesh and blood of mankind. 
 This is particularly true of the brokers' agencies of the 
 West, where the stir and rapidity of business gives men 
 an unusual opportunity to practise certain methods not 
 tolerated in older communities. 
 
 John drew up contracts, mortgages, and deeds of trust, 
 but whatever paper he was busied upon it was manifest 
 to him that the interest of the house whose employe he 
 was must be invariably consulted, to the exclusion of
 
 168 WHICH WINS 
 
 everything else, with results so melancholy to its patrons 
 that he left his desk every evening, after ten or twelve 
 hours of hard labor, feeling as if nothing should drive 
 him back to its hateful slavery again. Nevertheless, 
 the next morning found him at his post ; and he said 
 sometimes that, if suddenly called into eternity, he 
 would set to work drawing mortgages for the hosts of 
 heaven on the planets and fixed stars, since his earthly 
 habits would have rendered him incapable of any other 
 activity. Things went on in the office meanwhile which 
 made him feel as if he were a criminal to sit still and 
 see helpless human beings defrauded of their just 
 rights, without crying aloud to them to beware. 
 
 One day he was drawing up a mortgage on a farm in 
 Kansas. It was evidently a fine estate, a stone house, 
 ice-house with running spring, implements of every sort, 
 and highly improved. It struck him as peculiar that 
 upon so well stocked a farm, no cattle should be men- 
 tioned ; and he said to the young man who sat next to 
 him, at the desk, 
 
 " Do you suppose that the owner of this place has 
 mortgaged his cattle already ? It seems odd that they 
 are not included in this inventory." 
 
 Ward came in just then, and the young man showed 
 him the paper, calling his attention to the absence of 
 cattle in the list of effects. 
 
 " Why, write them in, of course," said Ward quickly ; 
 "there are a hundred cattle on that place, at least. 
 That old mossback is simply trying to get ahead of me, 
 that's all." 
 
 "But, Ward," exclaimed John, "that is not exactly 
 honest, is it ? He may have some reason for wishing to 
 exempt his cattle." 
 
 " I don't care anything about his reasons," said Ward 
 brusquely ; " write in the cattle, I tell you."
 
 A WESTERN BROKER'S OFFICE 169 
 
 John looked up in surprise. Ward was not in the 
 habit of addressing him in this tone, though he heard it 
 used frequently to the other clerks. 
 
 " I can't do such a thing, Ward," he said quietly ; " let 
 ine work on another paper, if you please." 
 
 "Keally, Thurston," replied Ward, looking thoroughly 
 annoyed, as he took the paper and altered it himself, " I 
 did not expect that of you." 
 
 John said nothing, though he flushed slightly, and 
 occupied himself with other matters. 
 
 " You must have some hold on Mr. Ward," remarked 
 the clerk beside him after Ward had left. 
 
 " Why, how is that ? " asked John in surprise. 
 
 " Any of the rest of us would have bee'n bounced on 
 the spot for making such a speech as that," he replied. 
 " Mr. Ward won't tolerate any criticism." 
 
 " We are old friends," said John quietly ; but he 
 ground his teeth at the thought that a poor man could 
 only be honest by special privilege. 
 
 A considerable portion of the correspondence of the 
 firm soon fell into John's hands, and he thus began to 
 feel as if united by a quasi-acquaintance with many 
 persons whom he had never seen, but for whom his 
 sympathies were keenly aroused. He learned before 
 long that if a man had obtained a loan by giving a mort- 
 gage for a small sum upon a fine farm, it was next to 
 useless to try and get any terms for him. The firm had 
 wound its fingers round the farmer's throat, and meant 
 to keep them there. 
 
 A Mr. Robinson in Cowley County, Kan., was a fair 
 sample of many others, with whose names John became 
 sadly familiar in a little while. The firm had obtained 
 a loan for him from an Eastern party, and he had paid 
 the interest several times. At last, however, the date 
 of its payment came round again, and Mr. Kobinson's 
 remittance did not appear.
 
 170 WHICH WINS 
 
 "Write to Robinson," commanded Ward, "that his 
 loan is off." 
 
 " But don't you think you could wait a few days ? " 
 said John anxiously ; " I am sure he is all right." 
 
 "Parsifal," said Ward impatiently, "I wish you 
 wouldn't give me advice. I don't like to be disagreeable, 
 but you see your own experience has made you unduly 
 sensitive, and you can't judge of my business. It's 
 purely an affair of profit and loss with me." 
 
 John said no more, but wrote the letter, and received 
 a reply from Mr. Kobinson, apologizing for his delay, and 
 enclosing the usual amount for interest. John took the 
 letter to Ward with great delight, but the latter coldly 
 told him to refund the amount, and tell Kobinson again 
 that the loan was off. John had learned by this time to 
 say nothing, so he did Ward's bidding, and received by 
 return mail an order to renew Mr. Kobinson's loan, 
 with a commission of fifteen per cent thereon, for Ward, 
 Dysart & Co. 
 
 " That's business," said Ward as he read the letter ; 
 " tell him it's 0. K." And Mr. Kobinson escaped fore- 
 closure for this once, while the fat commission dropped 
 into the safe of Ward, Dysart & Co. ; and John learned 
 afterward that Ward had sent the usual instalment of 
 interest to the eastern creditor, knowing well that Mr. 
 Robinson would pay it, and intending to fleece him to 
 the extent of another commission. 
 
 Some time afterward John was informed that Mr. 
 Robinson's taxes were overdue, and that he should send 
 a check for their payment, and notify Mr. Robinson of 
 the fact. 
 
 " Why not remind Mr. Robinson of the taxes before 
 you pay them ? " suggested John, who had grown wise 
 enough by this time to know that this payment of taxes 
 was not made as a favor to Mr. Robinson.
 
 THE MORTGAGE FIEND 171 
 
 " It's not my business to take care of his affairs," 
 said Ward sharply ; " I have enough to do to look after 
 my own. I'll pay his taxes, and he can give me fifteen 
 per cent on the amount until he gets ready to buy my 
 tax-title." 
 
 John shut his lips together, and wrote the letter. He 
 seemed to see the coils gathering about poor Robinson, 
 which were to wind over and around him, until he was 
 drawn bound and helpless from the home which repre- 
 sented the toil of a lifetime, and all the sweet cluster- 
 ing associations of early marriage, of love and happy 
 childhood. 
 
 And indeed so it was. Robinson was a prosperous 
 farmer when he first fell into the toils of the loan- 
 brokers, but before many years he was turned out of his 
 farm and forced to begin life anew, with the world 
 before him, and nothing but his two work-worn hands 
 to get him a mouthful to eat. John soon learned that 
 Robinson's was not an unusal case. There were many 
 others going through the same experience, and very few 
 who ever paid up their indebtedness and escaped alive. 
 
 Perhaps the case which roused his sympathies most 
 keenly, however, was not that of a farmer, but of an 
 acquaintance with whose troubles he had been familiar 
 from the first. Soon after his arrival in Kansas City 
 he met a young merchant named Hodgkins, between 
 whom and himself there were many interests in com- 
 mon. Hodgkins had made money during the " boom, " 
 a great deal of it, but toward its close he speculated 
 wildly and foolishly, so that at last everything he had 
 was locked up in a gigantic building, which he could 
 neither complete nor pay for. 
 
 He struggled on overwhelmed by debts, and supported 
 most bravely by his wife, John thought, who was a 
 courageous, cheery little woman, until one day he walked
 
 172 WHICH WINS 
 
 into the office looking particularly blue. He came up 
 to John, and, as he shook hands, he said, 
 
 " Thurston, I want to borrow some money." 
 
 " Well," said John, " I don't suppose there'll be any 
 trouble about it ; that's what we're here for." 
 
 " I wish you would come into Mr. Ward's office," 
 went on Mr. Hodgkins, " and tell him something about 
 the value of my books and pictures : I want to make a 
 loan on them." 
 
 " Oh, I wouldn't do it ! " exclaimed John quickly : 
 "they're all you have left, and you'll lose them 
 sure." 
 
 " But you see," responded the other, shaking his head, 
 " the last lien on that cursed building has to be paid. 
 It's foolish of me, I suppose, to bother about it, as the 
 whole thing has really gone out of my hands, only it's 
 a carpenters' lien, and those poor fellows need the money 
 awfully. I can raise it in three weeks, and meantime I 
 can get the money on my books and pictures, and pay it 
 off ; there's no danger," he added confidently. 
 
 John looked at his friend with increasing anxiety. 
 
 " I'll go to Ward with you, of course," he said, " but 
 I advise you again not to do it. You run the risk of 
 putting yourself in a box you can't get out of." 
 
 " Why, you talk as if I were going to a pawnbroker ! " 
 cried Hodgkins, laughing a trifle uneasily. " Supposing 
 I am a little longer than three weeks paying off the loan, 
 a firm like Ward & Dysart wouldn't press me." 
 
 John's heart contracted as he reflected how many men 
 Ward & Dysart had pressed to the wall, but he felt 
 that he was not at liberty to say any more, and accom- 
 panied Mr. Hodgkins silently to Mr. Ward's private 
 office. The matter was arranged without difficulty, and 
 Ward assured the young man warmly that he need have 
 no anxiety about the mortgage ; he would not be hurried
 
 A MODERN BRIGAND 173 
 
 in paying off the note ; the stipulation as to time was 
 only a formality, etc. 
 
 John went back to his desk somewhat relieved, and 
 thought no more of the matter until about three weeks 
 later, when Dysart came into the office one morning, 
 apparently in considerable excitement. 
 
 " Ward !" he cried, "you know Hodgkins's note was 
 due yesterday, don't you ? " 
 
 " Yes," replied his partner coolly, " I know it." 
 
 " Well, he won't pay," continued Dysart, " and for my 
 part I don't want to let that snap slip through my 
 fingers. He has a beautiful collection of etchings, and 
 we can take the whole thing. He never read over the 
 mortgage at all, fool, and it really covers all there is in 
 the house. I'm going to send Mrs. Dysart out there to 
 look over the place, and see what they have ; and we 
 can select the things we want, and sell the rest. The 
 loan is practically nothing compared with the value of 
 the property, I understand." 
 
 "Yes," said Ward thoughtfully, "it will be a good 
 way to add something to my library at small expense, 
 and it wouldn't do to let it pass." 
 
 John, who was writing in Ward's private office that 
 morning, listened to this conversation with sorrowful 
 astonishment. As Mr. Dysart went out, he said hesi- 
 tatingly to his employer, 
 
 "Don't you remember, Ward, you told Hodgkins you'd 
 give him time on that loan ? " 
 
 " Well," said Ward sharply, " I may have said so at 
 the moment, but there's nothing about it in the contract, 
 and it's his own business if he's disappointed. He ought 
 to have known what he was doing." 
 
 A day or two later, Mrs. Hodgkins was shocked by the 
 appearance of an officer in her pretty home, who pro- 
 ceeded to take an inventory of all her worldly goods.
 
 174 WHICH WINS 
 
 Everything in the house, except some treasures which 
 she managed to spirit away, received his mark, and he 
 even attempted to include in the inventory some little 
 articles of virtu which were heirlooms, and had belonged 
 to her grandfather. 
 
 Mrs. Dysart next called, and informing her that she 
 heard they were to have a sale of their household goods, 
 in which her husband was interested, walked about, ask- 
 ing the price of Mrs. Hodgkins's family idols, and select- 
 ing what she liked best of the contents of the little home. 
 
 Mrs. Hodgkins watched her with a breaking heart, as 
 she went through the rooms, pausing occasionally to ask 
 how much was paid for this or that, and always finding 
 fault with the price. 
 
 " It is so much better to buy such things at sales than 
 at first hand, Mrs. Hodgkins," she remarked, instruc- 
 tively pausing before an artist proof etching by Peter 
 Moran. " One always has to pay an exorbitant price to 
 dealers, and it is really extravagant." 
 
 Poor Mrs. Hodgkins reflected that she would rather 
 pay an extravagant price than feel that her pictures 
 were framed in the heart's blood of others, but she said 
 nothing. She was too proud to contend with this cold, 
 haughty woman, and she showed her to the door at last 
 without having wavered an instant in self-possession. 
 
 As the days went on, however, and she saw her beauti- 
 ful books and valuable etchings and water colors, as well 
 as the pretty furniture, much of which she had designed 
 herself, pass into the hands of Ward & Dysart, at a 
 price which did not pretend to cover even a nominal 
 value, a hard and bitter feeling grew up in her heart, 
 and she could not but say that there was something 
 painfully wrong in a God who could allow men like 
 Ward & Dysart to stand among the first in the 
 community.
 
 JOHN'S PROTEST 175 
 
 " They have just stolen our beautiful things ! " she 
 said hotly to John, when he called to see them in the 
 little home they had selected on the outskirts of 
 the town, " and now Mrs. Dysart parades the books 
 which her husband secured at an Eastern sale, she says, 
 and Mr. Ward puts on the airs of a connoisseur while he 
 exhibits our fine etchings to his admiring friends ! " 
 
 John had nothing to say. He knew far better than 
 Mrs. Hodgkins, how the greed for gain, and the power of 
 their wealth had eaten the conscience out of these men. 
 
 Sometimes he could not keep silent, and talked to 
 Ward about his horror of such methods of making a 
 fortune, though he knew that expostulations were worse 
 than useless. 
 
 " Eeally, Ward," he said one evening, " your business 
 is simply terrible. You get your hands into a man's 
 pockets and take all he has, that's what it amounts to ! " 
 
 " Now, Parsifal, I can stand a good deal from you, but 
 that's going too far," replied Ward. "You would con- 
 duct the loan business on the plan of allowing every 
 possible chance to the debtor, and no profits to the 
 creditor, but I don't want to end in the poorhouse yet 
 awhile." 
 
 " Did you ever stop to put yourself in the place of one 
 of these debtors of yours ? " asked John, quietly. 
 
 "No; and I don't want to," was the reply. "I'm a 
 little too sharp to be taken in as easily as they are. I 
 think if a man hasn't sense enough to keep his money, 
 he ought to lose it." 
 
 "But you might give him some chance," said John. 
 "Your circular offers help to the farmer, when really 
 you spread destruction in his path." 
 
 "Parsifal," exclaimed Ward, "you ought to join the 
 Methodist church, and start out as an evangelist. Do 
 you seriously think it is possible to do business on a
 
 176 WHICH WINS 
 
 paying basis, and still live up to the principles of the 
 Golden Rule ? " 
 
 " Yes, I do," replied John with decision. " I think it 
 is possible to make a living in that way, but I don't 
 think it is possible to pile up a fortune as rapidly as 
 you are doing." 
 
 " You think I'm not honest ? " asked Ward. 
 
 " What do you think about it yourself ? " was the reply. 
 
 " I think," said Ward, " that as long as I do business 
 on strictly legitimate principles, no one has a right to 
 find fault with me. I am no worse than my neighbors, 
 and if I refused to take advantage of the means they use, 
 I should play a losing game." 
 
 " But why don't you go into some other business ? " 
 asked John, with a feeling of positive distress at his 
 friend's indifference. 
 
 " Well, Parsifal, you don't know anything about the 
 world. If you won't join the Methodist church, you had 
 better go into a monastery ; in fact, that's your only 
 safety," added Ward, spreading out his coat tails to 
 enjoy the fire before which he was standing ; " for even 
 the Salvation. Army recruits go in for making money 
 nowadays. I don't know a business of any kind that 
 doesn't have to succeed by cutting other people's throats. 
 The spirit of competition demands it, and competition is 
 the life of progress, so I don't see how you can object to 
 it. I'm doing no more harm now than I did on Wall 
 Street, than the board of trade men do, who speculate in 
 grain and meat, or any of these big trusts like the 
 Standard Oil, which must succeed by starving the little 
 fellows out. You needn't get the blues over me, 
 Parsifal," and Ward took up the evening paper, and 
 threw himself into an easy-chair, with an air of lamb- 
 like innocence and self-satisfaction, which ought to have 
 assured his friend of the purity of his intentions.
 
 WATSON ARRIVES IN KANSAS CITY 177 
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 WATSON ARRIVES IN KANSAS CITY 
 
 BUT John's thoughts often ran on in lines suggested 
 by such talks as the one just recorded, and brought him 
 to conclusions perhaps more sombre than he would have 
 reached through colloquy with another. The atmosphere 
 of repression in which he lived, and which forbade his 
 speaking of these things, drove him more to his own 
 thoughts, and his fellow-clerks sometimes called him 
 morose and unsociable, when he was only sickened and 
 discouraged by the injustice and suffering by which he 
 was surrounded. 
 
 John felt each month that he received his salary as if 
 he were becoming a partner in wickedness by accepting 
 money even to the amount of his meagre wages, coined 
 as it was from the tears of the people. He was poor 
 and unknown, however, and nothing else seemed open to 
 him, and so he struggled on, cheered occasionally by a 
 sight of Katherine, and laying away as much as possible 
 of his earnings with the intention of sending for Watson 
 and his family, when, one day as he was walking down 
 Main Street, whom should he see but Watson himself. 
 If the moon had fallen from the sky, John could hardly 
 have been more astonished. 
 
 " Why, Watson ! " he cried, almost embracing him in 
 his delight, " where in the world did you drop from ? " 
 
 "From the prairies, I reckon," replied Watson, his 
 mouth distended to such a degree with smiles, that John 
 caught himself wondering whether it would ever come 
 together again.
 
 178 WHICH WINS 
 
 " I was thinking about you," said John, " and wonder- 
 ing how soon I could get you down to Kansas City." 
 
 "Wai, ye see, I'm here," replied Watson. " Walk out 
 an' see Eose an' the ole woman, won't ye ? " 
 
 " But how did you come ? " asked John, still lost in 
 astonishment. 
 
 " Wai, I come on shank's mare, an' the mule it drug 
 the family ; that's about the size on't," responded Watson, 
 chuckling. "Arter ye left, we had ter git out'n that 
 there palatial residence we okkypied, an' we jist con- 
 cluded ez long ez we warn't welcome nowheres, we'd jist 
 hitch up an' come to Kansas City." 
 
 " But where is Maggie ? Did she come, too ? " asked 
 John, more surprised than ever. 
 
 "Wai, that ere's wot started us up," responded Watson, 
 who seemed to be in perfectly hilarious spirits. " Maggie 
 she got wind of a typewritin' job down here, an wor 
 a comin' anyhow, an' she got here two days ahead o' the 
 fam'ly." 
 
 " And where is she now ? " inquired John. 
 
 " Oh, she's a-workin," replied Watson, with great 
 pride. " Mag's a grand lady these days, I tell ye, type- 
 writin' with the best on 'em ; goin' ter board with her old 
 dad and help out though," he added with evident delight. 
 
 By this time they had reached the outskirts of the 
 town, and leaving the street, turned into an open space 
 running down into a sort of hollow, where John had 
 often seen the wagons of " campers." Here the Watson 
 family were domiciled, under the shelter of a few trees, 
 the remnants of a forest of other days. Mrs. Watson 
 was more cadaverous than ever, John thought, Eose was 
 as fresh and sturdy as if she had brought with her a 
 breath from the Nebraska prairies, and the boys rushed 
 upon John as if they would devour him. 
 
 "It must be nearly six o'clock," said John, noticing
 
 WATSON'S CAMPING EXPERIENCES 179 
 
 that Kose had made a fire in the tiny cook-stove which 
 came in the wagon. " Have you had supper ? " 
 
 " Wai, we ain't got much, but it's fare you're used to, 
 Mr. Thurston," said Watson, " an' ef ye'll set down an' 
 eat, we'll take it as a great favor." 
 
 John sent one of the small boys over to a grocery 
 near by, for an addition to their supper which would 
 make it a feast to the Watsons, and then proceeded to 
 hear his old friend's account of their journey. 
 
 " We've had enough o' country monopoly for a while, 
 an' now I reckon we'll try town monopoly," remarked 
 Watson, as he took a large bite of the first white bread 
 and butter he had eaten for months, " an' if this 
 here's a taste on't, I vote it good," he added with deep 
 satisfaction. 
 
 John listened with interest to the description of their 
 journey, and the hardships they had passed through, and 
 he could not but admire the sunny spirit with which 
 Watson took what seemed the excessive amount of 
 hardship which fell to his share. 
 
 " About ten mile from here the wagon bruk down," 
 said Eose. 
 
 " An' that warn't the wust on't," continued Watson : 
 " dumped mother an' the baby an' the bag o' corn meal 
 in the road." 
 
 " Yes," completed Eose, " an' landed the corn meal in 
 a mud puddle." 
 
 " 'Twer pretty blue round there then, sure enough," 
 continued Watson ; " I thought we was plumb busted, 
 but I lowed ef wust come to wust I could walk inter 
 town, an' git ye to help us out, long as ye was that 
 near." 
 
 " Well, how did you manage ? " said John, glancing 
 sympathetically at the poor mule which was eating some 
 oats of John's providing with a weary, pessimistic air,
 
 180 WHICH WINS 
 
 indicating that from the experience in life of some 
 people, there were few things worth looking forward to. 
 
 " There wor a mighty good-hearted farmer livin' not 
 fur off," said Watson, " an' he fixed us up prime, give us 
 a new axle an' a hull bag o' corn meal, said 'twer a drug 
 in the market, an' he couldn't git red on't. An' so here 
 we be," he concluded. 
 
 " An' I'm thinkin' I'd like ter be gittin' a roof over 
 my head," remarked Mrs. Watson with her characteristic 
 intonation. 
 
 " Wai, I declar, I ben turned out'n so many places, I 
 jist don't keer whether I git a roof on me or not," 
 exclaimed Watson ; " I've felt more to hum with that 
 there wagon an' ole mule than I hev sence I left the 
 farm, an' that's the truth on't, jist cause I knowed them 
 an' we couldn't be parted;" and Watson brushed the 
 crumbs from his lap as if he believed himself brushing 
 capitalists into eternity. 
 
 " I don't blame you, Watson," said John ; " but we'll 
 get a house all the same, and I'll take a room and board 
 with you, if you'll let me." 
 
 " Wai now, mother, wot d'ye think o' that ? " cried 
 Watson in great delight ; " d'ye reckon ye kin keep house 
 fur Mr. Thurston ? "
 
 KATilERINE AND HER HUSBAND 181 
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 KATHEKINE GETS ACQUAINTED WITH HER HUSBAND 
 
 KATHEBINE spoke from the depths of a bitter experi- 
 ence when she said, " the world looks a little different 
 after one is married," an experience which led her to 
 know sharply and suddenly that the world is a poor 
 place for impractical idealists, and demands a cool head 
 and calculating wits, if one would win any advantage 
 in it. 
 
 These two possessions had never been Katherine's, and 
 she had not seen any reason to crave their power, or in 
 fact strengthen the business faculties in which she was 
 naturally by no means lacking, but which had never been 
 fostered by her circumstances. Before her marriage she 
 had given her financial matters trustfully into the hands 
 of Ward, without any thought as to the need of legal 
 papers between people who were to be united forever. 
 Before her marriage Ward paid her regularly an interest 
 on her money so much larger than she had received 
 previously, that she was full of gratitude to him, and 
 rejoiced in the thought of how much she would be able 
 to do for her mother with a more than comfortable pri- 
 vate income. She felt such certainty of increased pecu 
 niary ease in her marriage, that she was more reckless 
 than usual in the expenditure of her quarterly allowance, 
 and when the clay for its payment came around again, two 
 months after her marriage, she was well-nigh penniless. 
 Ward had been in the habit of sending her a check the 
 evening before the day of payment, making promptness
 
 182 WHICH WINS 
 
 in this respect rather a matter of gallantry, but appar- 
 ently he had grown forgetful, for this time he neglected 
 it, and the next morning Katherine ventured to remind 
 him of it, reproaching herself for the shade of hesitancy 
 she felt in doing so. 
 
 "Why, sure enough," cried Ward, seemingly in much 
 surprise, " I had forgotten the date." 
 
 In the evening, however, he said nothing about the 
 check ; they went out to dinner, and Ward was more 
 than usually gracious and loverlike, so that the matter 
 escaped Katherine's attention. In the morning Ward 
 hurried off before she had time to speak to him, and in 
 the evening he did not bring the check, and Katherine 
 could not help feeling a trifle annoyed. 
 
 " Stephen," she said, as she sat down to the piano to 
 play a little for him after dinner, " you forgot my check 
 again this evening." 
 
 " That's so," he said, pushing up the little curls which 
 lay upon her forehead. "You're not out of money, 
 are you ? " 
 
 " What has that to do with it ? " asked Katherine, 
 looking up at him in astonishment. " The interest is 
 due to-day. I never remember your asking me before 
 whether I was out of money." 
 
 "Well, no," replied Ward laughing; "our relations 
 were a little different, but at present I'm rather respon- 
 sible for you, you know. I can let you have some money 
 if you are in need, and your credit is unlimited all over 
 town," he added, handing her a ten-dollar bill. 
 
 Katherine put the offer by with a superb gesture. 
 " Please bring the money up to-morrow," she said, biting 
 her lip and repressing her vexation at Ward's tone. 
 
 He, however, seemed a trifle annoyed, and when 
 Katherine had finished playing he said, sitting down 
 beside her,
 
 THE HUSBAND AND THE PUESE 183 
 
 "Kate, you have great confidence in my financial 
 ability, I know." 
 
 " Of course I have great confidence in you in every 
 way," replied Katherine, laying her hand affectionately 
 upon his, for she was determined not to quarrel about 
 money matters. 
 
 "Well," he went on, "this investment of yours isn't 
 bringing a regular income at present, and if I should pay 
 you interest, I should simply take it from my own funds, 
 and as I'm responsible for all your expenses anyway, I 
 don't care to do that." 
 
 It seemed to Katherine as if the earth were whirling 
 under her feet, as she heard Ward's words and realized 
 their significance. " But, Stephen," she gasped, " haven't 
 you paid me the interest all along, and aren't things just 
 the same as they were ? " 
 
 " No, they're not," said Ward coolly, and he might have 
 added, " you are my wife now," but he did not. " I 
 invested a portion of your money in a Nebraska farm ; 
 it's a magnificent thing, and will make* you six or seven 
 times what you put into it, but at present the farm is 
 not rented, and we are not working it, so there is no 
 income." 
 
 " But, Stephen ! " exclaimed Katherine, " I don't know 
 anything about such things ; I only know this : I gave 
 you my money to invest as you saw fit, and you were to 
 pay me interest on it. It seems to me very unjust for 
 you to refuse me the interest just because I am your 
 wife." 
 
 " Now, Katherine, don't begin to talk nonsense ! " 
 exclaimed Ward, growing angry, " and don't try to argue, 
 for you can't do it. If I give you this money, you will 
 simply throw it into the street, and I am going to take 
 a little care of you. I don't want to have you a candi- 
 date for the poorhouse."
 
 184 WHICH WINS 
 
 " I have never been in the habit of throwing my money 
 into the street, Stephen," said Katherine, deeply hurt, 
 "and you have no reason to accuse me of inability to 
 take care of money." 
 
 " Don't you suppose I can see how extravagant you are 
 in everything ?" cried Ward angrily: "you're extrava- 
 gant in dress, extravagant in housekeeping ; you would 
 give all you had to beggars ; your mother has said over 
 and over again that you had no sense about business." 
 
 Katherine could hardly believe her ears. She rose 
 quietly, too angry to speak, and left the room. What 
 her thoughts were it would be impossible to express, but 
 many a woman who has been educated in all the tradi- 
 tions of nineteenth century freedom, and who for the 
 first time hears a tone in her husband's voice which 
 makes her realize that her condition as a wife is one of 
 gilded slavery, will need no explanation of her mood. 
 She was practical enough to review her position 
 accurately, and strong enough to feel that she would not 
 bear it. But first in order to leave her conscience free, 
 she determined to remonstrate with her husband. 
 Perhaps if he saw how far-seeing and economical her 
 intentions were, he would deal justly with her ; perhaps 
 he really did not understand her capacity to manage her 
 own affairs. 
 
 Katherine said this to herself hopelessly, for in reality 
 the conversation which had just passed had brought into 
 consciousness a distrust of her husband which had 
 always been unacknowledged in her mind, and which 
 only her mother's influence had kept her from realizing 
 with its full significance. 
 
 She sat late that night by the fire in her dressing-room, 
 while the various episodes of her acquaintance with 
 Ward, and then of her married life passed in an endless 
 panorama before her mind's eye. In the ceaseless stream
 
 WAKD'S THEORIES IN PRACTICE 185 
 
 nothing seemed positive except her husband's exceeding 
 injustice to her, and this she could not understand. 
 
 She knew nothing about the legal standing of women, 
 or what her rights were as a married woman, and her 
 ideas of what wives should expect from their husbands 
 were purely ideal and imaginary ; but her whole soul 
 rebelled against the tone of cool proprietorship in which 
 her husband had spoken to her, and his absolute negation 
 of her rights. 
 
 She felt that whatever were her legal rights as a 
 wife, her moral rights as a human being had been out- 
 raged, and she would not rest until she was sure that 
 she had not misunderstood her husband. She concluded 
 to wait until the next evening to speak to him, so that 
 she would be sure of herself, and he would have time to 
 recover his temper ; so at the appointed time she dressed 
 herself in one of her pretty gowns, and went to meet 
 him. Ward, concluding that it was worth while to do 
 a little coaxing under the circumstances, had brought her 
 some flowers, and he put them into her hand, saying, 
 
 "Well, sweetheart, has your financial panic dis- 
 appeared ? " 
 
 Katherine looked at him wondering. Could he believe 
 that the cause of her trouble was so slight as to be put 
 away with a few hours' pouting ? 
 
 " I think perhaps we didn't understand each other, 
 Stephen," she said gently, " and we had better talk 
 matters over in detail." 
 
 " Oh, bother ! " exclaimed Ward ; " talking over never 
 does any good, Katherine. I get mad and you pout ; and 
 what does it amount to ? Just let the matter rest, and 
 allow me to look after your money matters." 
 
 " I'm perfectly willing to trust you, Stephen," replied 
 Katherine, " but I don't want to assume the position 
 of a pauper in your house, and I should feel like one,
 
 186 WHICH WINS 
 
 if you spoke to me often in the way you did last 
 night." 
 
 " Oh, nonsense, Katherine ! " cried Ward a little 
 roughly ; " it's a great idea if a man's to be held responsi- 
 ble for the exact tone he uses toward his wife. I was a 
 little out of temper last night, and I suppose I wasn't 
 as conventionally polite as I should have been ; but let's 
 go to dinner." 
 
 "Well, Stephen," said Katherine, detaining him by 
 a gentle touch of the hand upon his arm, and forcing 
 him to walk up and down the long drawing-room with 
 her, she remembered what pride he had taken in fitting 
 it up for her, and how careful he had been to consult her 
 taste in every particular, "I want to explain to you my 
 ideas in regard to the disposition of my income, and 
 show you how far from extravagant I am. The interest 
 you paid me on my money was so much larger than what 
 I received before, that I thought even if I didn't give 
 any lessons, the half of it would suffice for my dress 
 and spending money, as I don't pay board in my hus- 
 band's home," she added, pressing his arm with a little 
 laugh, and burying her face for a moment in her flowers. 
 " So my plan was to send my mother half of my income ; 
 you know we have always lived together and shared our 
 means, and I shouldn't want her to be any poorer from 
 my marriage " Katherine paused suddenly, surprised 
 by the expression on Ward's face. 
 
 " And you say you're not extravagant ! " he exclaimed 
 in a loud tone. " Hasn't your mother means of her 
 own ? " 
 
 " Only a very small income, Stephen ; not enough to 
 live on comfortably," said Katherine, shocked at his 
 excitement. 
 
 " Well, I want you to understand once for all, that I 
 am not in a financial condition to allow of your giving
 
 KATHERINE'S SPIRIT RISES 187 
 
 your mother that amount a year, do you understand ? " 
 He added, " I won't have it, and that's all there is 
 about it. If you want to give her ten dollars a month, 
 I've nothing to say, though that's an exorbitant sum. 
 I'll see that you don't throw money away. You think 
 you've married a rich man and you can have all you 
 want, but I can tell you there's a limit to extravagance, 
 and you'll have to find it out ! " and Ward stalked out of 
 the room, leaving his wife standing in the middle of the 
 floor in a state of unutterable amazement. 
 
 What had she done to call up such an outburst ? 
 What extravagance had she been guilty of, that she 
 should be spoken to in terms of that sort when she had 
 merely demanded her just rights ? Katherine went 
 up-stairs in a mood so bewildered that it took some time 
 for her anger to rise to the height which the occasion 
 justified. 
 
 " I will go to a lawyer to-morrow and find out what I 
 can do," she said to herself ; " and whatever comes of it, 
 I know that I can earn my living ; " and she looked at 
 her pretty white hands with a very comfortable sense of 
 their ability to take care of her. 
 
 Her visit to the lawyer, however, was anything but 
 reassuring. He shook his head as he learned how she 
 had given her husband a power of attorney, and knew 
 absolutely nothing of how he had invested her money, 
 and she could see that he had the smallest possible 
 respect for her capacity. 
 
 " Never intrust a penny to any one, Mrs. Ward, with- 
 out taking the person's note for it with good security," 
 he said solemnly, " or, at least, a receipt to show where 
 the money has gone." 
 
 " And I can do nothing to recover my money ? " said 
 Katherine. 
 
 The lawyer shook his head. " But even if you could,
 
 188 WHICH WINS 
 
 Mrs. Ward, you would not institute legal proceedings 
 against your husband, surely," he said with a smile. 
 
 " Well, why not, I should like to know ? " asked 
 Katherine, who felt equal to anything. 
 
 "Why, Mrs. Ward, I always deprecate anything of 
 that sort between husband and wife," said Mr. Rhines 
 prudently. " Your husband loves you ; in so close a union 
 financial matters should not play a great part, surely," 
 he added, rubbing his hands and smiling upon the beau- 
 tiful creature before him in a way which filled her with 
 indignation. 
 
 " So I thought exactly," she cried, " and I never 
 dreamed of the need of legal precautions between us ; 
 but I consider that if my husband cheats his own wife, he 
 is much more of a dastard than if he cheats a stranger." 
 
 "0 Mrs. Ward!" cried Mr. Ehines, lifting up his 
 hands in horror, " I am sure your husband has no such 
 idea at all. He merely wishes you to trust your affairs 
 in his hands, and he will provide for you generously, 
 rest assured." 
 
 " I don't want him to provide for me ! " cried Kather- 
 ine indignantly, "and there's no reason why he should. 
 I simply want the money which belongs to me and I 
 would not ask him fora penny besides. Now tell me, 
 Mr. Rhines," she added, " what right have I to my hus- 
 band's estate. I want to know what the laws think of 
 womankind ; " and Katherine tapped her foot impa- 
 tiently on the floor, while she awaited the slow reply of 
 the conservative old lawyer. 
 
 "The law is very careful of women, Mrs. Ward," 
 replied Mr. Rhines. " The law regards her as a precious 
 treasure, which is to be protected and provided for. 
 The law requires that your husband care for you and 
 pay your debts while he lives, and it gives you the 
 income of a third of his property after his death."
 
 KATHERINE ASKS QUESTIONS 189 
 
 " The income of a third," repeated Katherine slowly. 
 " I don't understand that exactly." 
 
 "The law is very solicitous to protect the rights of 
 the weak and incapable," said Mr. Rhines slowly, "so it 
 only gives a wife the income of property, because she 
 is usually unfitted to understand business matters, and 
 will generally lose money, if it is left to her sole con- 
 trol ; but the law is very careful of her dower rights." 
 
 " Then I never will own any of my husband's prop- 
 erty : is that what you mean ? " asked Katherine, 
 flushing. 
 
 The lawyer reflected that this beautiful woman might 
 be something of a termagant, but he bowed graciously, 
 and she went on. 
 
 " Supposing I should have children ? " 
 
 " They of course inherit equal shares of the 
 property exclusive of the dower of the mother, which 
 reverts to them at her death," replied the lawyer ; " but 
 if they should be idiots," he added hesitatingly, "the 
 law protects them as it does the mother." 
 
 Katherine's cheeks flushed a very deep red, as she 
 made the application, which the old lawyer was careful 
 not to notice. " I suppose I should have the same legal 
 right to my children as my husband," she said 
 hesitatingly. 
 
 "No, my dear madame, you would not," replied Mr. 
 Rhines. " The law regards the husband as the protec- 
 tor and guardian of his family, their bulwark against 
 poverty and wrong, and it therefore gives him exclusive 
 control over his wife and children " 
 
 " And he could take them from her ? " gasped 
 Katherine. 
 
 " The law gives him a power to do as he will with his 
 own, satisfied that he will not exercise his rights 
 unjustly," replied the old lawyer, evidently fearful that
 
 190 WHICH WINS 
 
 this independent young woman might put a wrong con- 
 struction on the dignity and rightfulness of established 
 law. 
 
 " And women actually have children ! " cried Kather- 
 ine. " I will never be a mother, Mr. Rhines, until the 
 laws are changed ! " 
 
 "In the case of of illegitimate children," said Mr. 
 Rhines hesitatingly, "the right of the mother is of 
 course undisputed " 
 
 " Rather an odd way to encourage marriage, it seems 
 to me," interrupted Katherine. 
 
 "There are four States already where you might 
 venture, Mrs. Ward," continued the old lawyer, rubbing 
 his hands. "In Kansas, Nebraska, Wyoming and 
 Washington, women and men have equal rights in 
 property and equal control over the children of whom 
 they are parents. Persuade Mr. Ward to move into any 
 of these States, and you will be perfectly safe, though 
 I am sure, my dear madame, he added, " that Missouri 
 would look after your interests equally as well. A 
 woman can hardly have a better protector than her 
 husband in any case." 
 
 " I suppose you would consider me an illustration of 
 that, Mr. Rhines," said Katherine smiling sarcastically ; 
 " but be sure of one thing I would like a little legal 
 protection, and I begin to understand why some friends 
 of mine are so strenuous on the subject of woman 
 suffrage. You wouldn't like to think you had made me 
 a suffragist, would you ? " 
 
 " I am sure you are not that, Mrs. Ward ! " cried the 
 old lawyer, holding up his hands in horrified depreca- 
 tion of such a sentiment. "A woman so young and 
 beautiful as yourself surely " 
 
 ( ' Never mind about that," said Katherine, smiling a 
 little bitterly; "I have wrongs, you know, and that
 
 KATHERINE GROWS RADICAL 191 
 
 makes one eager for rights sometimes ; " and Katherine 
 said good-by, feeling that she had learned enough to 
 keep her thinking of womanhood for many months. 
 
 Her own experience made her very curious in regard 
 to other women, and she determined to satisfy herself, 
 without betraying her personal woes, as to the marital 
 status of most of her friends. 
 
 Her investigations were pursued with great care, but 
 led to most heart-rending revelations, for she made up 
 her mind that the real standing of women and their 
 influence in the family was much lower than their social 
 influence would lead one to think. And she attributed 
 it largely to the fact of their financial and legal depen- 
 dence, though she acknowledged that the men of her 
 acquaintance were much less free from hereditary taint 
 in regard to their treatment of women than she would 
 have considered possible. 
 
 " Their great, great, twenty-seventh great grandfathers 
 were accustomed to treat women as slaves," she 
 reflected, "and they fall into the inherited tone in 
 addressing their wives, without knowing it. And I 
 begin to see why the wives endure it," she added, " for 
 I stand it, though I don't consent to be as helpless as 
 some of them are." 
 
 "But, Katherine!" she added, "what a radical 
 you are getting to be ! and what would your mother say, 
 if she knew you believed in woman's suffrage ! " 
 
 Katherine's opinions were growing very bitter on the 
 subject of woman's rights and position, and yet she had 
 done nothing desperate to assert her own. She felt 
 keenly the delicacy of her position, every woman does 
 who is so circumstanced, and while her first impulse 
 was to leave her husband's roof and take steps to recover 
 her fortune, she realized the scandal which such an action 
 would cause, and determined to wait a little and see if
 
 192 WHICH WINS 
 
 she could not influence Stephen to treat her more 
 justly. 
 
 Ward, meanwhile, took such action as a tacit admis- 
 sion that he had conquered, and while he was careful 
 not to irritate Katherine too far, he let her see plainly 
 how dependent he considered her, and felicitated him- 
 self more and more upon the results of his discipline. 
 He was as fond of his wife as he could be of any one 
 outside of himself, but he knew how talented she was, 
 and was haunted by a fear lest she might excel him 
 or rather win more esteem from others. As long as the 
 talents remained simply an ornament to his home, he 
 felt that they added to his own glory, but he was unwill- 
 ing to have them make a stir outside of the magic 
 domestic circle he had created for them. 
 
 Thus, the quieter Katherine became, the less she 
 seemed to care for the activities of independent action, 
 the happier Ward was, and it never occurred to him 
 that there was anything selfish in thus restraining and 
 choking down the life of another human being. He 
 regarded certain things as fitting Katherine's womanly 
 sphere, especially her sphere as his wife, and he would have 
 opened his eyes in amazement, if any one had suggested 
 to him that he had no business to regulate or mark out 
 her sphere of action. Was she not his wife, and were 
 not man and wife one ? Ward, as a matter of course, 
 constituting the " one " in this case. 
 
 Katherine, meanwhile, was losing color and spirits in 
 this narrow and uncongenial home atmosphere, and, 
 when she first met Thurston, was fast slipping into a 
 dead and fruitless mood, where any action or struggle 
 seemed hardly worth the effort. Something in John's 
 fearless and eager spirit infected her : she began to think 
 instinctively of breaking her bonds, and ventured into 
 several " freaks " of independence which astonished
 
 KATHERINE'S NEW INCENTIVE 193 
 
 Ward, and, if he had suspected their cause, would have 
 made him inclined to forbid John the house. This odd 
 " Parsifal," who seemed to be governed by principles so 
 different from those of most of the world, and who 
 with nothing to live for apparently made life worth 
 living, interested Katherine, and she who had never 
 before felt a controlling interest outside of herself and 
 her music, looked for John's coming, thought of him, 
 and queried what his opinions on various questions 
 would be, not at all from any sentimental attraction, but 
 because he inspired her, and made her remember that 
 there were vital interests in the world beyond her 
 elegantly furnished home, her moneyed husband, and her 
 personal troubles.
 
 194 WHICH WINS 
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 ROSE AS A HOUSEKEEPER 
 
 JOHN, meanwhile, had found a pleasant little cottage 
 on the outskirts of town for the Watsons, and had 
 domiciled himself with them, feeling that there was no 
 one in the world at present with whom his lot seemed 
 more definitely cast. He had found work for Watson, 
 Maggie was " typewritin'," and, though her salary was 
 small, it made considerable difference in the family 
 income. Kose was housekeeper and went to night 
 school industriously ; and Watson began to feel as if he 
 might be proud of his family some day, and was sure at 
 any rate that he had " mighty enterprisin' gals." 
 
 Watson's work consisted in the janitorship of several 
 buildings, in one of which Ward had his office, so that 
 Watson spent most of his time in the atmosphere of bonds 
 and money which John breathed. But for some months, 
 John noticed, the tragic side of it did not affect Watson. 
 He was so happy in the sudden and unexpected prosper- 
 ity of himself and the children, that he lost his interest 
 for a while in the rest of the world. 
 
 The Watsons could not have been any happier, John 
 thought, if they had fallen heir to a million dollars. 
 The fact that they could pay their rent and buy the 
 absolute necessaries of life was so unparalleled in their 
 experience, that it almost upset their equilibrium. 
 
 Mrs. Watson was entirely dismayed when confronted 
 with the prospect of having a boarder. She who had 
 lived on corn bread and potatoes so long that she had 
 almost forgotten the possibility of eating anything else,
 
 KOSE BUYS A COOK-BOOK 195 
 
 how was she to cook ordinary edibles ? She absolutely 
 broke down and wept at the prospect. 
 
 "Ye allays wor the onpraktiklest man Watson, an' 
 now to think o' axin' me to bile coffee, an' cook steak, 
 an' make pies fur a 'ristocrat like Mr. Thurston, when ye 
 know all I've ben through, it's jist more'n I kin bar ! " 
 and Mrs. Watson sobbed reproachfully, hugging her 
 youngest born to her breast meanwhile, as if she still 
 felt the chill blast of the Nebraska prairies. 
 
 "Wai, now, maw," said Watson, in deep discourage- 
 ment, " I don't see wot we're goin' ter do ; we can't turn 
 Mr. Thurston off, arter he's been so good to us all along." 
 
 " Oh, no, I reckon not," replied his wife, with a fresh 
 access of misery, "an' I s'pose I'll jist hev to bone down 
 an' larn to cook over agin, though suff'rin' ez I do with 
 narves an' sich, I reckon it'll kill me dead." 
 
 "But, maw," began Watson, hesitating, "seems like 
 it's sich a comfort ter git somethin' ter put inter yer 
 stummick, ye'd be glad ter larn ter cook it." 
 
 " Oh, yes, ye kin talk," cried Mrs. Watson mournfully ; 
 " yer stummick allays war the biggest part on ye, Watson ; 
 but me that can't digest a tenpenny-nail, wot comfort kin 
 I get out'n beefsteak an' biled duinplin's, I'd like ter 
 know." 
 
 Watson had a vivid recollection of the amount of those 
 edibles his suffering wife had been able to put away the 
 night before, but he wisely said nothing, and concluded 
 to consult Eose about his difficulties. That strong- 
 minded young woman laughed him to scorn. 
 
 " Don't you worry 'bout the cookin', dad. I'm that glad 
 to hev the chance o' cookin', I donno wot to do ; an' you 
 jist git me a first-class cook-book. We ain't got much, to 
 be sure, but I'll spread it out, an' make it go ez fur ez 
 it will." 
 
 So Kose luxuriated in her cook-book, and by special
 
 196 WHICH WINS 
 
 permission of Mrs. "Ward received some lessons from 
 that lady's cook, as to the deeper mysteries which she 
 could not comprehend alone. 
 
 Those visits to Mrs. Ward were like glimpses of fairy 
 land to Rose, who had never seen anything finer than 
 the Thurston farmhouse, and their own new home, which 
 seemed a palace to her in comparison with the shanties 
 they had occupied in Nebraska. The sight of the 
 dining-table, spread with its white cloth, and glittering 
 with all the dainty beauty of a tasteful table service, 
 was a revelation to her, and she became fired with ambi- 
 tion to imitate these splendors in a modest way, not only 
 for the satisfaction of her own housewifely pride, but 
 because she felt they would add so much to the comfort 
 of her " boarder." 
 
 "Ye see, Mis Ward," she said, "Mr. Thurston he be 
 used to livin' like you, an' I don't see how he kin stand 
 us rough folks, reely ; but I reckon it's cause he's so 
 smart," she added. " I allays did think paw were the 
 smartest thing on airth, but he do go clean past him, 
 'cept in cipherin'. Paw he kin beat a most any one 
 cipherin' ; " and Rose paused suddenly, speechless with 
 admiration over an embroidered lunch cloth, which had 
 been one of Mrs. Ward's wedding-gifts. 
 
 " How is it that Mr. Thurston is smart ? " asked 
 Katherine, willing to draw Rose on a little. 
 
 " Oh, he knows a most everything," replied Rose : 
 "hist'ry, an' po'try, an' drops o' water, an' 'lectricity. 
 He's rigged up a little machine in the house, an' him an' 
 Tom's a-studyin' telegraphin', an' he gimme a little his- 
 t'ry book to study, an' he tells lots that ain't in the 
 book, an' a heap nicer." 
 
 " And are you all fond of him ? " asked Katherine, 
 glancing at the blooming sixteen-year-old girl before her 
 with a curious query in her mind.
 
 A TABLE-CLOTH AND NAPKINS 197 
 
 " I reckon we air; we couldn't help it nohow," responded 
 Rose, looking up with a deeper flush on her face, "he air 
 that good," she concluded simply. 
 
 Katherine gazed over and through her guest for a 
 moment, lost in thought. 
 
 " It would be just like his quixotism," she reflected, 
 "to marry this pretty, ignorant creature, if he thought 
 she had fallen in love with him. I wonder if she has ? " 
 
 The next step, of course, in Katherine's thought, was 
 that she must help the pretty creature to unfold as 
 quickly as possible, though the consequences of that 
 problematical spiritual development might be such that 
 she was conscious of an odd contraction of the heart in 
 fancying them. 
 
 "I'll tell you what I'll do, Rose," she said ; "you see I 
 have such an amount of table linen. I'll give you a 
 couple of tablecloths, and two dozen napkins, and you 
 can pay me for them by hemming some new ones that I 
 have. Then you can be splendid every day, if you wish, 
 or save your elegance for Sunday." 
 
 "0, Mis Ward!" cried Rose. "You're too good! 
 I'll put 'em on every day, an' teach the young uns to 
 use their napkins right smart, I tell ye ! " and Rose went 
 home overwhelmed with the magnificence into which the 
 family were about to blossom. 
 
 What joy filled her heart as she spread the table for 
 supper that night! joy which remained undiminished 
 even under the wet blanket of a maternal criticism that 
 never ceased during a moment of her preparations. 
 
 " The idee of usin' them fine things every day ! " cried 
 Mrs. Watson, almost in tears. "How'll ye git 'em 
 washed, I'd like ter know ; ye'll be axin' me to wash 'em 
 next, I s'pose ; but I can't do it, I tell ye. My back's most 
 in two now, 'thout thinkin' o' stannin' over the washtub 
 two hours ! That there's wot comes o' hevin' boarders ! "
 
 198 WHICH WINS 
 
 she added, in a pathetic aside. " I tell ye the Lord he 
 don't believe in puttin' on airs, an' the fust thing ye 
 know we'll be back to corn bread an' taters, all along o' 
 them white things ! " 
 
 " Now, maw, don't ye go to worryin' yerself sick 
 about my notions!" cried Hose, laughing. "The idee 
 o' your washin' 'em ! ye'd rense 'em in tears, I reckon ! " 
 
 " Oh, yes, ye kin laugh ! " exclaimed poor Mrs. "Watson, 
 " but ye may hev cause ter cry agin, puttin' on all that 
 style, I tell ye. Ther's sich a thing ez puttin' on too 
 much style. An' usin' them things every day, an' 
 washin' 'em, an' usin' 'em, they'll be wore out fust thing 
 ye know, an' then wot'll ye do ? " 
 
 "Well, mother, go to prayin' 'bout 'em, an' that'll 
 bring more, I reckon," replied Rose, undiscouraged ; 
 " the Lord he wants us to be decent, or he wouldn't have 
 sent 'em, I'm thinkin'. There's dad ! " she exclaimed 
 with energy. " I jist wonder what he'll say ! " 
 
 " Wai, I do declar' ! " remarked Watson, as he entered. 
 " Whar d'ye git all that finery, Rose ? It do look like 
 Mis Ward's table, I guess. Why, Rose, we're gittin' 
 stuck up, ain't we ? I tell you I feel so big nowadays, 
 I donno which end I'm stannin' on half the time." 
 
 " Yes, paw, ain't it fine " cried Rose in great delight, 
 " an' I've got two cloths, an' we'll use 'em all the time ; 
 an', paw, dumplin's fur supper, an' jist ez light ez a 
 feather ! " 
 
 As she spoke, Rose dished up the dumplings, and 
 Watson sat down to the table in an ecstasy. He had 
 never had any experience of the good things of life 
 until recently, and his enjoyment of them was so intense 
 that John never wearied of watching him. "Rose's 
 cookin'," Maggie's " typewriting" the " young uns " 
 school, and the phenomenal amount and quality of the 
 "cipherin"' they did there, altogether filled his cup so
 
 WATSON AS A FRIEND IN NEED 199 
 
 full that it seemed as if he could not ask for another 
 drop of bliss ; and John was almost irritated sometimes 
 by the completeness of his satisfaction, forgetting that 
 the sunny temper which had always insisted upon get- 
 ting the best out of his barren existence had never 
 seized any real enjoyment before. 
 
 "Father," said Maggie, after the supper was cleared 
 away, and they were gathered in the little sitting-room, 
 " it seems kind of mean for me to be having such a 
 good time " Maggie was getting exceedingly careful 
 of her English " and not doin' nothin' anything, I 
 mean, for Marie Leif ert." 
 
 " That's so," said Watson sympathetically, looking up 
 from the slate upon which he was assisting the 
 " cipherin' " of his youngest son. " Marie's a mighty 
 fine gal, an' we oughtn't ter forgit our ole friends in the 
 sun o' prosperity ; " and Watson looked around the cir- 
 cle with a smile so broad and benignant, that his wife 
 heaved a sigh of preternatural solemnity from pure 
 sympathy. 
 
 " Where is Marie ? " asked John, who was lingering 
 among the cheery group, though he was conscious of a 
 new book waiting for him up-stairs. 
 
 " Wai, ye see," said Watson, " Marie's amazin' ambi- 
 tious gal, but she ain't never had no chance ; an' with 
 all her tryin' she ain't gradivated yet from the stand o' 
 hired help. Ye see," continued Watson, with proud 
 explanatoriness, " Mag hed a start afore she left hum, 
 fur ef I do say it myself, I've eddicated my young uns 
 ez fur ez writin' an' cipherin' goes ; an' Mag took to 
 book-keepin' an' sich, nateral. But Marie, she never 
 hed no chance at all, an' she's longer gittin' round ; but 
 she's that ambitious nothin' won't kill her off," he con- 
 cluded. 
 
 " Suppose we ask Mrs. Ward to take her," suggested
 
 200 WHICH WINS 
 
 John thoughtfully. " She would be interested in her, I 
 know, and she wants a sort of upper housemaid. I heard 
 her say so. Marie could go to night-school with Eose ; 
 and we could all do something for her," he added. 
 
 Watson slapped his knee enthusiastically. "Ye set 
 right down an' write her this minnit, Mag ! " he cried. 
 " I ben a-worryin' 'bout her a good deal lately, an' that'll 
 fix her right up ! " 
 
 So it happened that Marie became an inmate of 
 Katherine's family, and one whose influence was not 
 small upon her mistress' destiny; for the spectacle of 
 Marie's struggle with adverse circumstances, and her 
 unconquerable determination to win a place for herself 
 among the world's workers, made Katherine ashamed 
 of her own weakness of spirit, and reminded her that 
 she too had talents given her, and a battle to fight for 
 their rightful exercise. 
 
 " Shall I give up and be made a doll of, for one man's 
 gratification ? " she said to herself when she saw Marie 
 hurrying through her tasks that she might find a moment 
 for the arithmetic which seemed nothing but a series of 
 hard puzzles to her. " No ! I'll show him that I'm a 
 human being and a thinking woman as well as his wife."
 
 WATSON AND THE NEW PARTY 201 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 WATSON AND THE NEW PARTY 
 
 JOHN came home one night and found Watson's mood 
 sadly changed. " I'd a mos' forgot," he said, " wot a 
 onlucky cuss I allays wor. Ben that prosperous lately, 
 I ain't thought nothin' 'bout them ten thousand infants 
 that dies o' starvation every year in New- York City." 
 
 " I've noticed you didn't seem to be so strong as usual 
 on the social question," replied John ; " but what brought 
 it up again ? " 
 
 "I never reely understood afore how them millionnaires 
 kin be so rich an' onfeelin'," responded Watson thought- 
 fully ; "but sense I ben so myself, I seem ter know more 
 about it. Ye see, if b'iled dumplin's an' a table-cloth 
 reg'lar could make a man forgitful, it stands to reason 
 the 'feet o' champagne and turkey 'd be a darned sight 
 wuss, hey ? " 
 
 " Well, what made you think of all these things ? " 
 asked John interested. 
 
 " Ye see," said Watson, " I come across some o' these 
 yer Labor Union men lately ; mighty smart fellers they 
 is, too, I tell ye, an' they're a' agitatin' like everything. 
 Then a man was after me to-day to jine the Knights o' 
 Labor. I've heerd tell on 'em afore, but I never 'tended 
 none o' their meetin's. I reckon I'll jine 'em all," he 
 added. 
 
 "I'd like to go with you to the meetings sometime, 
 Watson," said John thoughtfully. 
 
 " Wai, it's my 'pinion ye'd better jine yerself," re- 
 plied Watson. " I ben round to 'em all, an' I reckon the
 
 202 WHICH WINS 
 
 world's about ez bad off ez it kin git, ef long Watson 
 hev got his stummick full, an' it's the born duty o' sech 
 fellers ez you be to go inter politics, Thurston ! " 
 
 John laughed. " Why, Watson, what would be the 
 use of my going into politics ? " he asked, much amused. 
 " I couldn't represent the interests of anything or any- 
 body." 
 
 "That's jist the kind o' fellers that's needed ter go in, 
 I reckon," replied Watson ; " fellers ez kin represent the 
 intrusts o' the hull world onprejudiced-like. I war a- 
 talkin' with a carpenter wot's been a-workin' on one o' 
 the buildin's I hev the keer on, an' he'd like ter hev ye 
 come round ter the Labor Union meetin' Friday night. 
 He says the bottom o' this here business ain't the tariff 
 folks talks so much about ; it goes a sight deeper'n that, 
 an' I reckon he's right." 
 
 "What does he think is the trouble?" asked John, 
 wondering how far Watson had gone into Labor Union 
 politics. 
 
 " He says as how they's a' awful need o' co-operation 
 in this world. They's too much o' the every-feller-fur- 
 hisself business. The laborin' men's ben a-tryin' to 
 co-operate 'mongst theirselves, an' the capitalists hez co- 
 operated so well to theirselves that the laborin' man 
 ain't got no show at all, an' he thinks as how suthin's 
 got to bring around a sort o' general co-operation, so's 
 the laboring man kin hev a little say 'bout how much he 
 makes an' how long he works." 
 
 " I'm afraid that'll be a long time coming, Watson," 
 said John sadly ; " everything seems going the other way 
 at present." 
 
 "I donno whether 'tis or not," replied Watson, with 
 the same eager glow in his eyes that John used to see 
 when he talked about land monopoly, or transportation 
 on the farm. " Ye go to these yere labor meetin's, an'
 
 WATSON MAKES A SUGGESTION 203 
 
 ye'll think there's somethin' brewin', sure enuff ; an' if 
 yere in sympathy with the brewin', it's yer duty to go, 
 accordin' ter my notion. Ye ain't no business to stand 
 back an' sulk by yerself when ye might help ter right 
 the thing yer sulkin' about. Ye've got idees, an' ye kin 
 make a speech, an' I say go in an' do yer best, an' Wat- 
 son'll back ye up every time." 
 
 John was silent a moment. Watson's talk had sug- 
 gested a new train of thought, and it promised to run on 
 to such indefinite lengths that he hardly knew what 
 would come of it. The ideas of his younger days came 
 surging up into his mind again : what was there absurd 
 in the notions of fraternity and brotherly love anyway ? 
 Was it not possible to awaken humanity to a sense of 
 their truth and value ? Watson's words started him 
 from his revery again. 
 
 " That there idee o' co-operation's a mighty good un," 
 he said, " an' I see a woman to-day that needed suthin' 
 o' that sort bad. She wor a-lookin' fur you, but not 
 findin' the right feller she jist poured out ter me. She 
 wor that full, she would 'a' emptied to most anybody, I 
 guess." 
 
 " Who was it ? " asked John in surprise. " I don't see 
 who could have wanted to tell me her troubles." 
 
 " Wai, she did," continued Watson ; " 'twere that ere 
 boardin'-house keeper where ye put up afore ye come to 
 live with us. She's a-goin' ter be sold out, an' she thought 
 ye might do somethin' fur her." 
 
 " Me ? " cried John in dismay, with a painful conscious- 
 ness of the slenderness of his bank account. "What 
 could I do for her ? " 
 
 " Wai, she thought ye war a relative o' that skinflint 
 friend o' yourn, Mr. Stephen Ward, an' might inter 
 somethin' cede, I believe. He's goin' ter sell her 
 out."
 
 204 WHICH WINS 
 
 " You don't say so ! " exclaimed John. " How did she 
 get into his power ? " 
 
 "Yes, how do they all?" asked Watson, glaring at 
 the opposite wall as if he would annihilate space and 
 capitalists with it. " That's wot I'd like ter know. She 
 furnished a house last fall, an' borried the money o' the 
 firm to do it with. She's paid that all up but fifty dol- 
 lars, but she's behind with her rent, an' the houses she's 
 in hev fell inter the claws o' that same party, an' her 
 boarders is slim, an' they're jist a-goin' ter sell her out 
 in everything. It's business ye know," added Watson, 
 rising and walking across the floor with such a perfect 
 imitation of the strut and gesture which had become 
 habitual with Ward, that John laughed in spite of him- 
 self. " Darned ef I don't think this here business gits 
 called in to excuse the onhumanest things," he continued 
 fiercely. " They call it business when they take all a 
 pore widder's got, an' business when they turns a farmer 
 outn his home, an' business when they holds all the flour 
 in the market till it goes up two or three dollars a bar'l, 
 an' takes the bread outn the mouths o' thousands o' 
 women an' children ; an' then when a man holds ye up 
 goin' home, an' makes ye give him five dollars, they call 
 it thievin', an' ef ye slips inter his house o' nights an' 
 gits his watch an' dimonds, they calls it burglary, an' 
 both on 'em means state prison. An' I'd like ter ax any 
 thinkin' man, ef the fust ain't a million times wuss'n the 
 last, an' don't do a million times ez much damage. But 
 wot does yer broker and capitalist git ? ye pats him on 
 the back, an' compliments him fur his business sagacity, 
 an' marries him to yer darter, ef she's fool enough ter be 
 sold ! " concluded Watson so bitterly that John looked 
 at him in surprise, wondering how much of the inner 
 working of the Ward household he had surmised. 
 
 " That's all sadly true, Watson," assented John, " and
 
 WATSON'S POLITICS 205 
 
 the queer part of it is, that more people don't see it- 
 Do you suppose anybody can think of it without seeing 
 it ? I should say no, as a matter of course, if I hadn't 
 talked to Mr. Ward often enough to know that men of 
 his class don't look at the question as we do at all. They 
 consider it absolutely impossible to do business on a 
 basis of strict morality, and evade the fact of their own 
 deviation from honesty every time." 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Ward don't see it," admitted Watson ; " but 
 ye kin bet yer life most folks would see it ef ye put it to 
 'em. The trouble is, they don't never think o' nothin' o' 
 the sort. Things hez got to sech a pass that 'tain't pos- 
 sible fur a reel high-minded feller ter make it go in 
 business, nor politics neither, an' folks don't know it." 
 
 " Watson," said John after a moment, " suppose there 
 was a new party in politics ; would it succeed, do you 
 think ? " 
 
 " D'ye mean stid o' these yere republicans an' dimmy- 
 crats ? " asked Watson hesitatingly. 
 
 " Yes, of course ; a party that would represent new 
 issues, and present new truths and ideas to the people," 
 explained John. " Do you suppose it would have any 
 chance ? " 
 
 " Why, in course it would ! " exclaimed Watson, rising 
 in considerable excitement as John's meaning dawned 
 upon him. " Didn't the abolitionists succeed ? They 
 wan't no republicans till the abolitionists made a new 
 party, wor there ? A party's got ter succeed when it 
 says what's gospel true ; the people makes it." 
 
 " It seems to me," said John, " that such a party will 
 have to be formed, and I suppose it will grow out of a 
 combination of these various unions for the agitation of 
 the social question. The trouble is, the agitation has 
 been mostly restricted to a certain class. But form a 
 people's party, and preach the people's rights to the
 
 206 WHICH WINS 
 
 exclusion of all class prejudice, and it looks as if it 
 would take the country by storm. It would open peo- 
 ple's eyes to the real state of abuses, the existence of 
 which they have tolerated so long simply because they 
 were riot conscious of them. With enlightenment, 
 they would rise and sweep them, off the face of the 
 earth ! " 
 
 John stood up in his excitement, and walked back and 
 forth in the little room, his eyes shining and his face 
 aglow with the transfusing fire of his own enthusiasm. 
 
 " Ye've hit it ! " cried Watson, bringing his chair down 
 with a thump which meant volumes. "Ye've hit the 
 nail plumb on its darned head this time, sure ez yer 
 born ! an' the next thing is ter do it," he added, putting 
 his hands in his pockets once more, and tipping his 
 chair back against the wall for the purpose of more 
 unfettered meditation. 
 
 Watson frequently explained the value of this atti- 
 tude in thinking out difficult problems : " Ef ye want 
 ter let yer 'magination fly, git red o' yer legs ez fur ez 
 ye kin, fur the less underpinnin' ye hev, the more over- 
 pinnin' ye'll git. I've heerd tell on a saint wot stood on 
 one leg fur thirty year," he would conclude, " an' I jist 
 reckon he done it 'cause he knowed he wor one leg 
 nigher heaven, ez long ez he could hold out." 
 
 "I'm not good at organizing," said John, "and I 
 shouldn't know how to go to work to start such a party. 
 I suppose it could be done here through the Labor Union 
 element, by taking a nomination from that party and 
 preaching the broader platform," he added ; " but with 
 the country at large it would have to be organized upon 
 an independent basis. As long as our political machinery 
 is what it is," he continued thoughtfully, " it would have 
 to be used at first for the purposes of the new party, but 
 once fairly started, there is no telling where it would
 
 MRS. WATSON INTERFERES 207 
 
 end ; " and John rose and paced slowly back and forth, 
 full of his new thought. 
 
 " 'Twouldn't stop nowhers," said Watson, feeling ap- 
 parently as if his chair had deserted him, and he was 
 floating off into space with the universe before him. 
 " Git the people banded together to do good, an' d'ye 
 think they'd be any stoppin' 'em? They'd red up this 
 yer planet of ourn that clean the Devil wouldn't hev no 
 place ter stay, an' fellers like Ward there, they'd feel so 
 lonesome they'd cut their throats to git in more conge- 
 nial company ! Talk 'bout the millennium," cried Wat- 
 son, " why, 'twould be down here so fast ye couldn't see 
 straight ! " 
 
 " Watson ! " cried a quavering voice at that moment 
 from the head of the stairs, " Watson ! d'ye know wot 
 time it is ? it's most twelve, an' they ain't no sense in 
 burnin' coal oil fur nothin', accordin' to my notion, when 
 it costs fifteen cents a gallon ! " 
 
 Watson brought his chair slowly and carefully down 
 on its four legs once more. 
 
 "Thar's some folks," he remarked explanatorily to 
 John, "wot can't stand no good-luck. Jist ez long ez 
 we was down in the mouth an' hed a most nothin' ter 
 eat, Mary Jane wor the patientest critter livin', but now 
 that we're jist bustin' with prosperity, she's a cussin' 
 the hull time, and don't want none on us to take a grain 
 o' comfort. Talkiii' 'bout co-operatin' now," he continued 
 argumentatively, " I reckon thar's some folks ye'd hev 
 to chop em up to git it inter 'em." 
 
 John smiled as he said good-night, and went up to his 
 little room. 
 
 "Poor Mrs. Watson," he thought, " she isn't so singular 
 as her husband thinks. The pig in us doesn't generally 
 develop until we see ourselves in the midst of luxury, 
 and then the fear lest some one else should get more than
 
 208 WHICH WINS 
 
 we, makes us oblivious to the needs of all the rest in 
 grasping at the good things. And yet we only need to 
 grow one degree finer to realize how unsatisfactory such 
 selfish enjoyment is," he added, thinking of Watson and 
 his rejoicing over the comforts of those about him, and 
 his constant solicitude for their troubles. 
 
 " After all, the poor woman is only a sort of caricature 
 of Ward and people of his ilk," he reflected as he turned 
 out his light : " he tyrannizes over his wife, and is in con- 
 stant fear that people will fail to appreciate his powers 
 in some way. It's a pity when we refine it all down, 
 how many of us want to be the last man and claim the 
 world."
 
 THE DICTUM OF A CAPITALIST 209 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 THE DICTUM OF A CAPITALIST 
 
 SOME months after the above conversation, John was 
 once more spending the evening with the Wards. Dur- 
 ing the intervening time, he and Watson had become 
 well acquainted with the various labor organizations of 
 the city, and John's political theories had taken such 
 definite shape that the Labor Union men were talking 
 of getting up a people's ticket for the approaching elec- 
 tion, upon which John was to be a candidate for alder- 
 man. Ward was also indulging in visions of political 
 activity. He expected to receive the nomination for 
 mayor from the Democratic convention, and already felt 
 as if the mantle of municipal dignity had fallen upon 
 his shoulders. 
 
 It was natural then that the conversation should turn 
 upon social and municipal matters. John could not 
 entirely repress his humanitarian enthusiasm even in 
 Ward's presence, and the latter had no hesitation in 
 expressing opinions upon all subjects to John, for his 
 friend of former years had grown to be more and more 
 a moneyless dependent, who, though he might profess 
 various cranky notions, nevertheless must practically 
 yield to the dictum of his superior authority, and was 
 therefore safe from the temptations of real rebellion. 
 He could not comprehend that John's feelings upon the 
 question of social rights and wrongs were of vital 
 strength, and if his expressions grew too strong, usually 
 turned the conversation abruptly, or dismissed the sub- 
 ject with a contemptuous gibe. His tone, in fact, was
 
 210 WHICH WINS 
 
 frequently intolerable, but John bore it without open 
 resentment on account of Katherine, for his interest in 
 her and in her problematic future had grown so deep, 
 that he felt he could not bear to be cut off entirely from 
 companionship with her, and their occasional meetings, 
 either walking or at the house, made the one bright spot 
 which cheered his otherwise solitary and joyless exist- 
 ence. 
 
 Upon this occasion Katherine had been tempted by 
 John's presence into relating one of her charitable ex- 
 periences, about which she usually said nothing to Ward, 
 for such revelations often led to a series of unpleasant 
 remarks on his part, in regard to her talent for sowing 
 his money upon the highways, the advisability of turn- 
 ing the drawing-room into an infirmary for decrepit 
 beggars, etc. The present case was an aggravated type 
 of the traditional poor woman, with a large family and a 
 sick husband ; and Ward, feeling that he ought to appear 
 to John in the light of a philanthropist, loftily com- 
 mended his wife's charity, though he added that he 
 hoped she knew where to draw the line, and not be 
 imposed upon. , 
 
 "I suppose you regard that remark as very selfish, 
 Parsifal," he added, turning to John, " for you think I 
 could just as well take the entire family permanently 
 under my wing ; but you are about as impractically gen- 
 erous as Mrs. Ward. A business man has to look after 
 the odds and ends if he wants to keep his head above 
 water." 
 
 " I know you see no injustice in these inequalities of 
 fortune, Ward, so of course you can't look at them as I 
 do," replied John. 
 
 "Injustice!" exclaimed Ward contemptuously. "As 
 a general thing the station fits the incumbent pretty well. 
 What qualifications has the woman we have been talking
 
 THE CHARITY OF THE RICH 211 
 
 about, for instance, for a higher lot ? A large income 
 would ruin her : she would run into the most senseless 
 extravagances, as people invariably do who are not 
 accustomed to money," he added, with a side-glance at 
 his wife ; " and she would have an unpardonable case of 
 big head." 
 
 "Do you know/' said John thoughtfully, "nothing 
 seems to me so unaccountable as the prevailing indiffer- 
 ence of the rich to the sufferings of the poor. In this 
 nineteenth century, when we have broadened and refined 
 in so many directions, we haven't gotten beyond the 
 twelfth century in brotherly love." 
 
 " How is that ? " asked Katherine, smiling. " I didn't 
 suppose they exercised much brotherly love in the 
 twelfth century." 
 
 " They didn't ; that's just the point," said John. " I 
 was reading a little stanza the other day by Bertrand de 
 Born, the troubadour friend of Queen Eleanor and Prince 
 Henry, you know, and in it he speaks most cruelly 'of 
 the lower classes : calls them nothing but beasts, and 
 says that if a lord knows that a peasant has accumulated 
 a sum of money, his only safe course is to take it from 
 him, adding that he would be only too happy to see every 
 peasant in the land turned out in the rain without a 
 penny in his pocket. It seems to me that is only a 
 rather bald statement of the feeling of the majority of 
 our own better classes toward the poor : 'They're beasts ; 
 they deserve all they suffer and more too ! ' " 
 
 " Well, Parsifal, that sounds rather bald, as you say ; 
 but I suppose there's a good deal of truth in it now as 
 there was in the twelfth century," commented Ward 
 easily, holding up his hand to the light that he might 
 study to better effect the iridescence of the large opal 
 upon his finger. " The lower classes are dangerous ; they 
 need to be kept down. The safety of society demands it,
 
 212 WHICH WINS 
 
 and their own low development prevents them from 
 appreciating any of the pleasures which money and a 
 refined taste make possible, so that they would only 
 destroy themselves and the world by opportunities which 
 must lead them into excess." 
 
 " You do well to say money and refined taste, Ward," 
 exclaimed John with considerable bitterness, " for I fail 
 to see that most of our upper classes to-day do more 
 than enjoy their money in exceedingly gross fashion. 
 To my mind it is coarse to be gluttonous, whether the 
 bill of fare is champagne and pate de foie gras, or pork 
 and beans, and sensual indulgence is more criminal when 
 it is carried on in palaces than in hovels. But that isn't 
 the question," he added : " what right have you to indulge 
 yourself, and then forbid any other man to do so, I 
 should like to know. How can you rich fellows impose a 
 morality upon the lower classes that you do not follow, 
 do not even pretend to believe in ? " 
 
 "Oh, well now, John, you're absurd!" exclaimed 
 Ward, feeling the conversation a trifle too serious for 
 his taste; "you know there never was an outbreak of 
 the lower classes that was not followed by the most atro- 
 cious results. Look at the French Kevolution." 
 
 " I suppose you think," said John, " that if Louis and 
 Marie Antoinette could have gone on playing with the 
 hearts of their subjects forever, without any open mur- 
 ders, it would have been all right, but the guillotine, 
 which made the horror manifest, must not be tolerated. 
 I can tell you that if the co-operative measures of the 
 Paris commune could have been developed and formed 
 the ruling spirit of the revolutionaries, all those horrors 
 might have been avoided, and the France of to-day 
 would be a peaceful and flourishing community on a 
 secure footing. The fact is, the one experiment in gov- 
 ernment which has never been tried seems to me the
 
 THE BLINDNESS OF CONVENTIONALITY 213 
 
 right one, and that is a government which regards all 
 men simply as souls, aside from any outward differences 
 of wealth and social standing, and assures absolute jus- 
 tice and equal opportunities to all. We have always 
 had governments where prejudices and partisanship 
 were the ruling powers, and therefore we cannot tell at 
 all what human nature would be, if it were given a 
 chance to develop unrestrainedly in the right direction." 
 " It is very curious, as you say, Parsifal," said Kath- 
 erine, who was very fond of giving her friend this nick- 
 name, which she thought fitted him exceedingly well, 
 "to notice how invariably people are governed by preju- 
 dice. For instance, one of my friends was laughing 
 with me the other day, over the preference of her son, a 
 boy of fifteen, for a school friend who was the daughter 
 of a saloon-keeper. She regarded his attitude in the 
 matter as displaying an amusing amount of naivete, and 
 did not seem to perceive his instinctive nobility. Here 
 is the conversation. ' Charles thinks she's all right,' said 
 the mother, * and he can't see why I shouldn't. " Why, 
 mamma," he says, "she's a perfect lady and an excellent 
 scholar, besides, they live in a nice house, and she's just 
 as well bred as anybody, so why shouldn't I like her ? " 
 "Well, Charles," I said, "you know very well that in 
 the East I've not been in the habit of associating with 
 saloon-keepers and such people, and you know I've only 
 been West a year ; perhaps in time I may get rid of my 
 prejudices; but you really mustn't expect it of me yet." 
 He thought I was awfully sarcastic, but then what could 
 I do ? you must give a boy some idea of the proprieties 
 of life.' My sympathies," added Katherine, "were en- 
 tirely with the boy, but then, as his mother remarked, 
 what could I do ? I felt that she wouldn't understand 
 my tolerance of the saloon-keeper's daughter, and so said 
 nothing."
 
 214 WHICH WINS 
 
 " Well, I am glad to find you have a little sense, Kath- 
 erine," cried Ward explosively. " Your friend was per- 
 fectly correct. Society demands that we respect the con- 
 venances, and if you receive the saloon-keeper's daughter 
 simply because she is pretty and well bred, where will 
 you draw the line, I should like to know ? " and Ward 
 rose and walked back and forth in the long drawing- 
 room a few times, endeavoring to repress an inclination 
 to turn John out of doors with what he termed his anar- 
 chical ideas, and send Katherine severely up-stairs. 
 
 "But think what a magnificent institution society 
 would be if it were organized upon a basis of mutual 
 love and co-operation, Stephen," ventured Katherine 
 mischievously. "If I patronized the young girl in ques- 
 tion, for instance, because she was a saloon-keeper's 
 daughter, and I knew therefore that in spite of her 
 natural delicacy she would need help to rise out of the 
 somewhat coarsening atmosphere of her surroundings, 
 and if you used your means always as an assistance to 
 those who were in financial difficulties, why, that would 
 be the millennium," cried Katherine in ecstasy. 
 
 " And don't you think, Ward, that after nineteen cen- 
 turies of Christianity we ought to begin to treat our 
 neighbors somewhere near as we would like to be treated 
 ourselves ? " asked John with some hesitation. " I don't 
 suppose it occurs to us that to be governed in such cases 
 strictly according to the golden rule is alone sanctioned 
 by morality. The outside and conventional circum- 
 stances are never essential, and should not be the ruling 
 ones, but we make them so always." 
 
 Ward made no response to this last "ebullition," as 
 he secretly termed it. He was thinking to himself, 
 " Shall I let the fellow go on, or shut him up ? He is 
 really getting insufferable with his radicalism, still, he 
 has considerable political influence among the laboring
 
 JOHN TALKS RADICALISM 215 
 
 men, and I had better not offend him now. Besides, I 
 should really like to see how far his idiocy goes." So 
 thinking, Ward said nothing, and Katherine felt at lib- 
 erty to continue the conversation, though she knew she 
 must be a little cautious in expressing her opinions in 
 her husband's presence. 
 
 "It would revolutionize society, Parsifal, if those 
 ideas were carried out," she said, smiling. 
 
 " When we stop and realize what our present standards 
 are, we can't help being horrified," responded John 
 seriously. " Social and political considerations leave the 
 personality, with its merit or demerit, practically out of 
 the question. We seek the acquaintance of people 
 because they have a certain income and live in houses 
 of a particular style ; we nominate men to office who can 
 contribute largely to the expenses of the campaign, and 
 whose characters are not too good for the machinations 
 of the politicians, and then we elect them because they 
 belong to the party we have chosen to support. Doesn't 
 it all seem perfectly absurd when we look at the matter 
 from an impartial standpoint ? Is there any need more 
 vital to the human soul than that of companionship with 
 beings who will inspire and strengthen it ? Yet we cut 
 ourselves off from such fulfilment for reasons which are 
 positively senseless ; and is there any need more vital to 
 the corporate creature, the socially connected man, than 
 proper representation in his legislative halls ? Yet we 
 deny ourselves this absolutely, and allow the choice of 
 our representatives to be governed by principles so per- 
 nicious that it is only an accident if a man comes to 
 represent the people who cares anything about their 
 necessities. The men who go to Washington, therefore, 
 and to our capital cities, go there with adherence to 
 party principles written first of all upon their hearts, 
 and it never seems to occur to them that the welfare of 
 the people is in their keeping."
 
 216 WHICH WINS 
 
 " But look here, Parsifal, I think you are doing a good 
 deal of wholesale grumbling," cried Ward. "The people 
 elect their own officers, and haven't they a right to elect 
 whom they choose ? Why do they send men to the legis- 
 lature and the senate who won't do their will, if they 
 don't choose to, I should like to know ? You are get- 
 ting on dangerous ground, if you go to assailing our con- 
 stitution." 
 
 "I'm not assailing the constitution," replied John 
 warmly ; " but you know as well as I do that the election 
 of a man depends solely upon his party nomination, and 
 the nominations all over the country are so controlled 
 by vicious party machinery, that it is impossible for a 
 man to be elected simply because he is the choice of the 
 people. In fact, that usually has nothing to do with it. 
 He gets in because he is not obnoxious to the party 
 bosses, and the fact is that our officers of state do not 
 represent the people much more than did the senate of 
 a Greek oligarchy twenty-four hundred years ago." 
 
 "Well, I must say, I think you are going altogether 
 too far in those statements. To hear you talk one would 
 think we were no longer a republic. Congress is some- 
 times a little slow in following the trend of public opin- 
 ion, but you see even the senators are waking up to the 
 fact that tariff reform is the question of the hour, and 
 we shall have a bill introduced before long that will sat- 
 isfy everybody, you will see," and Ward stroked his 
 silky black mustache with a comfortable conviction that 
 by that speech he had established himself as a liberal- 
 minded man and a good Democrat, and taken a position 
 which no one could assail. 
 
 Katherine, meanwhile, watched her husband with an 
 amusement which was a trifle bitter. She had grown to 
 know him so well in their few years of married life 
 that she felt sometimes as if the springs of his mind
 
 WARD AS A POLITICIAN 217 
 
 were laid bare, and she were reading thoughts of whose 
 existence he never intended any one to know. "Ah, 
 Stephen," she reflected sarcastically, "you can advocate 
 tariff reform with a fine air of candor, because your busi- 
 ness is such that it makes no difference whether the 
 country is governed by free trade or protection princi- 
 ples. There will be enough people to borrow money 
 anyway. But let some one get up and propose a mort- 
 gage law in the Missouri legislature which should prom- 
 ise some relief to these poor flies you mangle in your 
 shining net, and we should see how soon your soul would 
 cry out. It's very easy to be unprejudiced when one's 
 pocket is being filled in spite of political reform." 
 
 But Katherine's attention was attracted at that moment 
 by John's remarks, the tenor of which rather startled 
 her. 
 
 "Do you think tariff reform is the question of the 
 hour, then ? " he asked slowly, watching the flames 
 which rose and fell in the open fireplace, like so many 
 insidious devils coaxing the living five from the unsus- 
 pecting black masses, and leaving them but dead and 
 senseless ashes as a result. 
 
 " I should call it so decidedly," replied Ward, speak- 
 ing in that deep throaty voice which is always an expres- 
 sion of well-fed and pompous self-satisfaction. " I don't 
 know any other question the decision of which is so 
 well so essential to all classes," he concluded, stroking 
 his mustache again, as if he felt that he had once more 
 done credit to his political astuteness. 
 
 " It is a question of vast importance, I grant you," 
 replied John ; " but it hardly seems to me first, at pres- 
 ent. Its solution would not be long delayed if the 
 ball were set rolling in the right direction," he added. 
 
 " But what do you think is more important, Parsifal ? " 
 asked Katherine, for her husband had sunk into a digni-
 
 218 WHICH WINS 
 
 fied silence, and evidently felt no curiosity as to the 
 further progress of a question upon which he had given 
 an opinion. 
 
 "I think this question of rich and poor is reaching 
 alarming proportions," said John cautiously ; for he felt 
 that he was treading upon dangerous ground. "The 
 poor fellow who is mortgaged beyond any possibility of 
 hope is not going to care much whether a tariff is pro- 
 tective for revenue only, or non-existent, and the man 
 who is driven out of the possibility of making an inde- 
 pendent living by the growing power of trusts, will not 
 be helped by free trade. We want some sort of econo- 
 mic reform which will remove the oppression of the 
 poor by the rich, it seems to me." 
 
 "I expected you'd get around to your hobby before 
 long, Parsifal ! " exclaimed Ward with a laugh in which 
 John felt there was considerable irritation. "What a 
 study the human mind is ! Now, your views upon that 
 subject are so clearly traceable to your own misfortunes, 
 that they don't trouble me at all. I can see so easily 
 that all you need is a bank account of comfortable 
 dimensions to correct that peculiarity. A few years 
 will see you holding very respectable opinions, I've no 
 doubt." And Ward poked the fire in a way which 
 roused the little devils in the flames to a state of wild 
 excitement, and sank back in his chair, hoping that John 
 was silenced for the time being. 
 
 But John's heart was very sore upon this one subject, 
 and he was not so easily crushed by a realization of 
 Ward's bank account as formerly. The manhood in 
 him had been growing at a marvellous pace of late, and 
 he felt that he dared say many things before Ward 
 would quite order him out of the house. 
 
 "I've no doubt my own misfortunes have something 
 to do with my opinions, Ward," he said, smiling, " but,
 
 THE DIVINITY IN " VESTED RIGHTS" 219 
 
 nevertheless, they are not peculiar to myself. I hear 
 them uttered constantly on every side, and no one, it 
 seems to me, can realize the condition of the poor or 
 middle-class man to-day without feeling that he needs 
 the aid of all the divine powers to protect him against 
 his brother man. Think of one firm in Kansas having 
 eighteen hundred mortgages to foreclose immediately," 
 he added more warmly, "and think of the Immigration 
 society inviting people to come West to occupy these 
 farms as tenants, which only just now were held by 
 independent proprietors, who have been driven from 
 them by the action of nefarious laws." 
 
 " By nefarious laws ! " exclaimed Ward sharply ; " do 
 you mean to call those laws nefarious which were created 
 by wise legislation for the protection of vested rights ? " 
 and Ward sat up straight in his chair and swelled with 
 the consciousness of the wealth and power he repre- 
 sented, wealth which " the rabble " would have consider- 
 able trouble in snatching from him, he felt sure. 
 
 "I know, Ward, that this is a sensitive subject for us 
 to discuss," replied John, speaking with much deference, 
 for he did not wish to anger his friend ; " but really, 
 ' nefarious ' does seem to me a proper word to apply to 
 laws which we know perfectly well protect only the 
 powerful class, and act with relentless destruction 
 upon the poor and struggling. It seems to me only 
 fair to ask for a division of privileges, and give the 
 poor borrower, especially if he is a farmer, the right not 
 to be fleeced." 
 
 " That sort of talk does very well in a Labor Union 
 meeting, John, or a Farmer's Alliance, but really, you 
 know, it doesn't go down with sensible men ; " and 
 Ward rose and walked uneasily about, trying to control 
 his temper. " The law was never made to protect fools ! " 
 he continued with irritation, "if they can't keep their 
 money, they had better hire out to those who can."
 
 220 WHICH WINS 
 
 " That's exactly the state of things which threatens, 
 and which ought to be prevented ! " cried John, his eyes 
 sparkling. " The law must protect the poor fellow who 
 is comparatively helpless against his rich neighbor, and 
 enable him to maintain his place in the world." 
 
 " You want him to eat his cake and have it," inter- 
 rupted Ward irritably ; " why don't you come out fair 
 and square with your communism, and lay aside the mask 
 of equal rights ? You fellows who have nothing to lose 
 are very free in your ideas of legislating fortunes out of 
 other folks' pockets. Come, Katherine, give us some 
 music, and let's forget the needs of humanity for a 
 moment ; " and while Katherine played one of those 
 deeply pathetic nocturnes of Chopin's, which breathe the 
 Welt-schmerz of all nations and races of men, John's 
 thoughts could not but run on in the direction of Ward's 
 last words. 
 
 " You fellows who have nothing to lose ! " he reflected ; 
 " are not they the very ones, the only ones from whom 
 an impartial opinion on economic questions can be 
 expected ? It is asking a great deal of human nature 
 to demand a decision upon questions which concern all, 
 from the class which alone will suffer pecuniarily by the 
 decision. And yet one always hears the cry raised that 
 any solution coming from the ' fellows who have nothing 
 to lose ' is dangerous. Is it not more dangerous coming 
 from men whose property rights must influence a dictum 
 against humanity ? " 
 
 John pondered long over the problem, and went home 
 at last, happy in the conscious rectitude of a very 
 nearly empty pocket-book. 
 
 " After all," he said, " the vagabond is king of his 
 own thoughts. He is not bondsman to any worldly and 
 selfish considerations, and can look truth squarely in 
 the face if he will. I would rather have his ragged 
 shoes than Ward's patent leathers."
 
 A TALK WITH A LABORING MAN 221 
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 
 A TALK WITH A LABORING MAN 
 
 JOHN'S . business one afternoon took him out to the 
 limits of the city. He stepped consequently upon one 
 of those whirling, rattling, stop-for-nothing and death-to- 
 all-opponents contrivances called a cable car, and was 
 soon whizzing through space at a rate which seemed to 
 threaten the passenger with asphyxia, and the hapless 
 pedestrian with certain dismemberment. 
 
 The only possible description of a cable car, John 
 thought, was a general slambang, for the creaking of 
 the cable, the rubbing of the grip, the grating of the 
 wheels, the constant ding-dong of the bell, and the 
 monotonous repetition of the names of the streets by 
 the conductor, who opened the door and slammed it 
 to again each time he shouted one, formed a micro- 
 cosm of inharmonious sounds, which it would be impos- 
 sible to duplicate anywhere outside of the infernal 
 regions. 
 
 " Such must be the hell of a scoundrelly musician," 
 John thought ; and his fancy ran on painting the possi- 
 ble additions which the ingenuity of his satanic majesty 
 might make to the inimitable chorus around him, when 
 he was startled from his re very by the consciousness 
 that some one had dropped into the empty seat beside 
 him. 
 
 " Ah, Craig ! " he exclaimed, extending his hand with 
 a smile as he recognized Watson's friend, the young 
 carpenter, "I am glad business takes you my way.
 
 222 WHICH WINS 
 
 What have you been doing lately ? Watson and the girls 
 have been wondering about you a little," he added, 
 rejoicing secretly to see the flush which rose in Craig's 
 cheeks at the close of his remark, for he fancied Maggie 
 was somewhat interested in this bright young mechanic. 
 
 " I've had a job out of town for some weeks," replied 
 Craig, " and I've only just come in. I thought of drop- 
 ping round to Watson's to-night, to look after the type- 
 writing business a little," he added, smiling back to 
 John as if with an invitation for teasing, " and to talk 
 politics. They say you're going to run for alderman on 
 our ticket, Mr. Thurston ; how's that ? " 
 
 " Why, yes, Craig," replied John with some hesitation ; 
 " I wouldn't mind doing it if you get up a platform that 
 suits me." 
 
 " Well, I think we could do that if you let us into 
 your ideas," replied Craig respectfully ; for he was con- 
 scious of more than ordinary esteem for the young man 
 beside him, who, though not much his senior in years, 
 always made him feel that his thinking and living had 
 gone deeper down than his own. 
 
 " You see," said John with some hesitation, " it seems 
 to me you Labor Union fellows are too narrow. You 
 don't try to appeal to any one outside of your own 
 order, and as long as you restrict yourselves in that way, 
 you can't accomplish anything important. You must 
 get out of class limitation and reach all men before you 
 can do much for reform." 
 
 " I think I see your idea," replied Craig slowly, " but 
 really, I don't believe the Labor Union men have ever had 
 much hope of bringing about practical reform very soon. 
 They regard their work as educational for the present." 
 
 " That isn't the way to look at it ! " said John earnestly ; 
 " they must believe they will accomplish their ends, and 
 set the machinery to work to do it. The whole world
 
 HE NEED OF A NEW PARTY 223 
 
 is getting roused over the questions you agitate, and 
 you must agitate with them. Include the world in 
 your efforts, and don't stay satisfied with shaking up one 
 little corner of it." 
 
 " That's very pleasant to listen to," said Craig, smil- 
 ing, "but how are we going to do it ? " 
 
 " It's a very simple thing," replied John : " instead of 
 calling yourselves a Labor Union party, and working 
 solely among the laboring men and their organizations, 
 go out among men with a people's ticket, and appeal to 
 every one who suffers from any sort of oppression to vote 
 it. They won't do it at first, but just let it dawn on 
 them that you mean what you say, that your ticket 
 stands for freedom and equality, against oppression and 
 monopoly, and you'll be amazed to see the people 
 flocking to your standard." John's eyes glistened as 
 he spoke. " Nearly everybody suffers," he added, " and 
 the only thing which will retard your success is the 
 fact that people have grown so accustomed to legislation 
 without representation, through the chicanery of the 
 two great parties, that they must have time to think 
 out the possibility of real representation and what it 
 means. It won't take them long ; one or two campaigns 
 will do the work, for you see the need is great." 
 
 Both men were silent a few moments, busy with the 
 thoughts their conversation suggested to each. 
 
 " How much do you make a day, Craig ? " asked John 
 suddenly. 
 
 "Oh, I get two and a half," replied the young man. 
 Why do you ask ? " 
 
 "I was wondering how much you have to grumble 
 about," said John. " You get just about what I do." 
 
 " No," replied the other ; " I'm paid by the day. When 
 I'm sick or out of a job my wages stop, so I don't 
 average much over forty dollars a month now. But
 
 224 WHICH WINS 
 
 then I am a good workman, steady and economical on 
 account of my revolutionary ideas," he added smiling, 
 "and so I get on. I'll be a master carpenter and 
 mechanic and contractor some day, if I don't turn into 
 an architect, as I'd like to, and then I hope the world 
 will go more easily with me, even if our party doesn't 
 gain its ends," he concluded. 
 
 " But you have to deny yourself a great deal, I fancy," 
 remarked John, glancing from the fine face beside him 
 to the hardened hands, which explained somewhat the 
 look of care in it. 
 
 " You are right about that ! " responded Craig earn- 
 estly ; " this nineteenth century civilization makes a hard 
 tussle for us workingrnen. The things I want and 
 can't have set me most wild sometimes. And they're 
 not unreasonable things either, but simply those which 
 a man of this age demands because he has stopped being 
 a beast," and the young man's face sharpened and his 
 eyes flashed, as if he felt the force in him to demand if 
 he only knew where to go with his claim. 
 
 " What are your worst needs, those that trouble you 
 most ? " asked John sympathetically, " lack of time, I 
 fancy." 
 
 " Yes, that is a great deal," replied Craig ; " to see 
 one's self surrounded by knowledge of every sort, and be 
 debarred from it by the need of simply keeping one's 
 bodily fires going is hard, mighty hard. But, Mr. 
 Thurston, that isn't all," he added : " we workingmen 
 haven't the same bodies and nervous systems as our 
 forefathers; we're not cattle now, no matter what we 
 once were. We can't live like cattle any longer with 
 contentment. We want decent surroundings and some 
 of the refinements of life for our children. It's just 
 like Rose with her white table-cloth," he added, smiling 
 at the recollection of his last supper at the Watsons',
 
 NO PREJUDICE AGAINST "GENTLEMEN" 225 
 
 and how Rose had gloried in her table finery. "We 
 crave the surroundings of the civilization in the midst 
 of which we live, and I think we have a right to them, 
 don't you ? " 
 
 " Of course you have, we all have ! " cried John ; 
 "that's the reason I'm so anxious about this platform 
 and having it broad enough. Do you suppose the Labor 
 Union man is the only fellow who has unsatisfied crav- 
 ings ? " 
 
 " Yes; but, Mr. Thurston," said Craig, hesitating, 
 "you're not like me, you've had all these things, you're 
 a gentleman ! " 
 
 "Now, Craig ! " cried John, turning quickly upon him, 
 "you've hit a point that I've been driving at all the 
 time. You bear me a sort of grudge because I've been 
 brought up what you call a gentleman, though I'm as 
 down on my luck as you are this minute. You feel as 
 if I'd had more of the slice than you have already, 
 and so I have in a way, and you'd like to keep me out 
 of all share in your agitation consequently ; but I tell 
 you it won't do, you'll have to leave the accidents of 
 fortune out of the question, and count in all the fellows 
 whose hearts are with you, before you make your 
 party go." 
 
 Craig protested vehemently against John's accusation, 
 but it set him to thinking, and he finally came to the 
 conclusion that there was some truth in it. 
 
 "I never thought of it before," he said to himself, 
 "but we workingmen are sort of banded against the 
 world, and it's just as Thurston says, our only hope of 
 success is to draw every creature who feels for oppressed 
 humanity, and has suffered, into our ranks. What a 
 crowd they would make, sure enough," he reflected, smil- 
 ing at his own fancy, " bags, newsboys, sewing-girls (for 
 of course we must count in the women, they need it
 
 226 WHICH WINS 
 
 bad enough), bankrupts, evicted farmers, philosophers, 
 and poets ! The very misery of the crowd would break 
 a hole through fate. But really it would be the bone 
 and sinew of the nation, and nothing could stand against 
 it. It's the thing to do ! " he said, standing still, over- 
 come by the magnitude of the idea. " I'll go and talk to 
 the committee about it ; " and instead of passing the 
 evening as he had intended, Craig went to the Labor 
 Union Hall, and talked politics until his breath gave 
 out. 
 
 " It's paving the way though," he said, smiling to 
 himself as he thought of Maggie; "who knows but 
 Maggie and I may live to see an era of plenty and free- 
 dom when we need fear neither the oppression of the 
 rich nor the poverty of our children." 
 
 As Craig fell asleep pleasant dreams haunted his 
 pillow. Dreams of a little home, a white table-cloth, and 
 rosy children starting for school with books in their 
 hands. Were they presuming and extravagant, those 
 dreams, or dangerous in their tendency ? Did they 
 merit driving off with a policeman's club ?
 
 KATHEPJNE OPENS HEK HEART 227 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 KATHERINE OPENS HER HEART 
 
 JOHN seldom saw Katherine alone, but it happened 
 one evening he dropped in at the Wards', and found the 
 head of the family had left the city, with a wealthy 
 friend to spend a couple of days at the Springs near by, 
 and Katherine was alone, playing tempestuous Hunga- 
 rian music in a rather disturbed fashion. John fancied 
 there were traces of tears on her cheek, as she rose to 
 meet him, and he wondered angrily to himself if Ward 
 had caused them, for Katherine had never let fall a 
 word in regard to her relations with her husband, and a 
 little altercation he had heard between them recently, in 
 regard to some music scholars with whose instruction 
 Katherine had consented to busy herself, was his only 
 clew as to their mutual attitude. 
 
 "I hope I do not intrude, Mrs. Ward," he said apolo- 
 getically as she rose to receive him. " I did not know 
 your husband was out of the city." 
 
 " Intrude ? " repeated Katherine, extending her hand, 
 "does any one intrude who drives away unwelcome 
 thoughts ? If so, you are certainly worthy of the pun- 
 ishment for that offence, for my thoughts were very 
 dreary." 
 
 " They ought not to be," replied John, glancing from 
 his pretty hostess about the charming apartment in 
 which they stood ; " that is, if the things which most 
 women love can give you pleasure," he added, smiling. 
 
 "I don't know whether I am different from most 
 women or not; I don't think I am," said Katherine,
 
 228 WHICH WINS 
 
 somewhat quickly, for she had grown very eager to 
 defend her own sex of late, "but I don't care much for 
 money alone, or its evidences. I think I like independ- 
 ence better than anything else," she added, turning the 
 rings upon her finger meditatively, "and naturally if 
 that is interfered with I grow dolorous." 
 
 " I think that is the feeling of many society women 
 whose lives are confined within narrow limits, and who 
 long for an individuality greater than social convention 
 permits them," said John. "You would feel it more 
 than the average woman, because your experience before 
 marriage was more varied and unrestrained than falls 
 generally to the feminine lot." 
 
 " Indeed it was ! " cried Katherine enthusiastically. 
 "You don't know how often I think of those happy 
 days," she added, with a deepening of the shadow on 
 her face. " I had a letter only to-day from my mother, 
 who is very anxious to have me make her a visit. Just 
 think ! I have not seen her since my marriage. But 
 Mr. Ward objects seriously to my going. I think he 
 rather dreads to have me renew the charm of my old 
 unconventional days ! " she concluded, looking at John 
 with a glance that was almost tearful. 
 
 John had never seen Katherine in quite this mood 
 before. She was usually either absorbed and silent, or 
 disdainful, when not her ordinary cheery, sympathetic 
 self ; but to-night something seemed to have given way, 
 and she was as nearly hysterical as he could have 
 imagined possible. 
 
 " I don't know what your ideas of wifely submission 
 are, Mrs. Ward," remarked John after a moment's pause, 
 " but if I were in your place, and wanted to go to New 
 York, I should certainly go." 
 
 Katherine looked up quickly. " So should I," she re- 
 sponded with decision, " if it were practicable."
 
 KATHERINE GROWS STROXG-MINDED 229 
 
 " And why isn't it practicable ? " cried John. " I sup- 
 pose I am talking treason against Ward, but I can't help 
 it. The change would be a wonderful benefit to you, 
 and I should have my physician advise .it, if I were in 
 your place." 
 
 Katherine had risen and walked back and forth in the 
 handsome drawing-room, the soft folds of her dress 
 sweeping behind her, quite out of harmony with her 
 hurried and excited movement. 
 
 "Parsifal," she said suddenly, pausing before him, 
 "isn't a pauper out of place in a spot like this?" 
 
 " Why, yes, I should say so," replied John in surprise, 
 but " 
 
 " A pauper not only in money but in spirit," went on 
 Katherine excitedly, " a craven so mean as to bear all 
 sorts of insult and degrading treatment, rather than 
 offend conventionality, conventionality alone. Do you 
 take that in ? Parsifal, do you know what most women 
 are ? " she added, a red spot growing in each cheek ; 
 " they are cowards and liars, and not so much to blame 
 for being that, because they are slaves, and trained to 
 it, taught that it is their duty to play a part, and conceal 
 their real selves always, in order to please their hus- 
 bands ! Think of it ! Think of being bound body and 
 soul to a tyrant who considers that you have no right to 
 any existence outside of himself, and then think of 
 sitting demurely by, to hear dignified gentlemen discuss 
 the propriety of having the divorce laws made stricter, 
 as I have done ! " and here Katherine broke down, and 
 laying her head on the little table by which she sat, 
 sobbed aloud. 
 
 "Why, Mrs. Ward, Katherine, what is it, what has 
 happened to rouse you so?" exclaimed John deeply 
 shocked. "Do you mean to say," he cried, rising and 
 towering above her like a protecting genius, "that Ward 
 abuses you ? "
 
 230 WHICH WINS 
 
 Katherine made no reply for some minutes, but sobbed 
 on, indulging in that heavenly feeling of relief which 
 comes with the gushing of long pent-up tears. Pres- 
 ently she stopped, and, wiping the drops from her eyes, 
 compelled herself to speak more calmly. 
 
 " I don't know what ails me to give way like this," 
 she said, "but I suppose it is because at last I have re- 
 ceived a little more than I can bear." 
 
 " But, Mrs. Ward, you surprise me," said John ; " ex- 
 cuse me, I always supposed you at least financially 
 independent of your husband; and with a man of his 
 temperament that means a great deal." 
 
 "I was financially independent of him," cried Kath- 
 erine, taking off the large diamond which had sealed her 
 engagement, and laying it on the table, as if she were 
 putting off a chain. " The good powers intended that, 
 and only my own foolishness prevented it. You know 
 the romantic way in which I became an heiress at a 
 critical moment of my career," she added. John nodded. 
 
 " But where is your fortune now ? " he asked, as 
 Katherine paused. 
 
 She looked at him hesitatingly. "I hardly like to 
 tell you how foolish I have been," she said, " but I don't 
 think you could realize what an inexperienced girl I 
 was when I married Stephen." Then encouraged by 
 the sympathy she read in John's eyes, sympathy unmin- 
 gled by any expression which could shock or distress 
 her, she went on frankly to relate her husband's conduct 
 since her marriage, his withholding her money, and abso- 
 lute refusal to recognize her possession of it in any 
 way. 
 
 "And, you see," she concluded, "I have nothing to 
 show for it. I have no receipts, not a scrap of writing, 
 to prove that I ever gave him a penny, nothing but my 
 bare word, and who would believe that any woman could
 
 IS SLAVERY BETTER 231 
 
 give away twenty thousand dollars without security ? 
 But I know better now," she added bitterly ; " I know 
 what sort of protection women may expect from their 
 husbands, what sort of cherishing !" 
 
 Noticing suddenly the shocked look upon John's face, 
 Katherine paused. " You are horrified at my revelations, 
 Parsifal," she said, little dreaming the depth and cause 
 of his disquiet, "and I know you must be equally 
 horrified to think that /make them ; but you don't know 
 what it has been to live pent-up these years, to be 
 treated like an inferior, to be told constantly that one 
 is dependent, and to be so cowed and disheartened with 
 it all, that one doesn't dare break out into open rebellion. 
 That is the worst of it," she added, "that I who always 
 was indifferent to the opinion of the world, and to 
 conventional prejudice, should grow tame enough to bear 
 all things rather than offend them;" and Katherine 
 bowed her head upon her hands with a despairing 
 gesture. 
 
 John meanwhile was lost in the windings of bitter 
 thought which Katherine's words had roused. He 
 ground his teeth as he listened, and only allowed him 
 self to say brusquely, "But, Heavens! Mrs. Ward, you 
 can get your money. Your lawyer in New York knows 
 all about this proceeding." 
 
 Katherine paused. " I have thought of that," she said, 
 " but of course I could not take legal steps unless I left 
 my husband." 
 
 John bit his lips with a sort of rage against the tem- 
 porizing spirit of this beautiful creature a feeling 
 which he had occasion to remember afterward with deep 
 self-condemnation. But he could hardly believe the 
 full extent of Ward's culpability. 
 
 " Do you mean to say, Mrs. Ward, that your husband 
 refuses to pay you the interest on your fortune ? " he 
 asked.
 
 232 WHICH WINS 
 
 " I have never had a penny of it since my marriage," 
 replied Katherine. " When the first interest was due, he 
 offered me ten dollars, and told me my credit was good 
 everywhere ; since then I have not had anything, for I 
 would not take the trifling sums doled out to me as if I 
 were a beggar when my rights were refused me, and so 
 I have lived absolutely like a pauper. Stephen says 
 often, 'You can have money if you need it, Kate; just 
 ask for it ; ' but why should I ask for what is my own ? 
 I would rather go without forever." 
 
 " And have you never asked again for your quarterly 
 instalment ? " inquired John. 
 
 "Certainly," replied Katherine, "I have asked for 
 that always, but I have never received it, and never 
 expect to." 
 
 "And does Ward give you absolutely no money at 
 all?" continued John in astonishment. 
 
 "None at all," replied Katherine, "except an occa- 
 sional dollar for street-car fare. Everything I get is 
 ' charged/ clothes, music, books, stationery, groceries, all 
 bills must be sent into my lord and master, that he may 
 see where his money goes, as he kindly expresses it, 
 and oh ! the scenes we have sometimes," cried Katherine, 
 her eyes sparkling, as she threw herself into the pom- 
 pous attitude which had become characteristic of Ward. 
 " < What do you mean, Kate, by sending me such bills 
 as these ? ' " she went on, " ' do you want to drive me to 
 the poorhouse ? A dollar's worth of sugar once a week 
 for a family of this size, and roasts of four or five 
 pounds! I'll do the marketing myself, madame, and 
 let you see what economy is ! And such dry-goods bills. 
 I'll have you know I won't stand this extravagance ! ' 
 that's the way it goes on," continued Katherine, "and 
 am I extravagant ? I don't spend the amount of my 
 personal income for my dress and individual expenses, 
 I assure you."
 
 A WIFE OR A CHATTEL 233 
 
 "But whether you do or not, no man has a right to 
 talk to his wife in that way," exclaimed John angrily, 
 as he felt his prudence rapidly vanishing ; " if you were 
 simply his housekeeper, it would be inexcusable, but his 
 wife ! " And John's whole being rose in rebellion at 
 such injustice to the woman he had once dreamed of 
 cherishing as his own. 
 
 Katherine smiled a little sadly at her friend's warmth, 
 not suspecting its cause. 
 
 " Parsifal," she said, " I think a great many men talk 
 to their wives just like that. They think a woman must 
 be kept down, as Stephen says, and if she is inclined to 
 be a trifle independent, and have opinions of her own, 
 like myself, they remind her frequently of her depend- 
 ent position, for fear she may forget that her husband 
 is the head of the family. I have heard men argue elo- 
 quently for woman's rights, and then turn around and 
 snub their own wives openly, just because they evidently 
 felt the necessity of keeping the balance right in their 
 own households, no matter what they thought it should 
 be in the nation," and Katherine tapped her foot impa- 
 tiently on the floor, and looked sadly at John. 
 
 " I know there is a great deal of truth in what you 
 say," he replied soberly, " and men have been trained to 
 theories of selfish domination so many centuries, that it 
 is hard for them to live up to the modern ideal of gener- 
 ous equality ; but I don't think there can be many cases 
 so flagrant as your own," he concluded inquiringly. 
 
 "I know a great number of them," cried Katherine 
 with eagerness, " not because women are given to talk- 
 ing about their husbands, believe me, they are usually 
 far too proud to expose the chains they wear. But when 
 one has suffered, one can detect symptoms of the same 
 disease in others. Very few women, except those who 
 are independently dowered, have a financial understand-
 
 234 WHICH WINS 
 
 ing with their husbands which is perfectly satisfactory. 
 The point which makes my case worse than many is 
 that I did have money when I married, and my husband 
 has appropriated it." 
 
 "But marriage should be a partnership," cried John, 
 a sort of dismay creeping over him, as he realized sud- 
 denly the chasm between his own standard and that of 
 the world in general. "When a woman marries and 
 assumes the duties of a wife and mother, does she not 
 usually give up all chance of earning an independent 
 livelihood, and by that very fact become a silent partner 
 in her husband's estate ? " 
 
 "A very silent partner," cried Katherine; "a partner 
 whose interest is represented by board and clothes, very 
 grudgingly bestowed, and earned by an entire sacrifice 
 of individual tastes." 
 
 " But all men are not like Ward, Katherine ; excuse 
 me, but Ward is a monster in his selfishness," exclaimed 
 John, feeling a hot wrath rise within him, and using his 
 friend's surname name unconsciously. 
 
 " I suppose you will call me pessimistic, Parsifal, but 
 until women have some kind of legal recognition, which 
 gives them a financial standing in the family, the aver- 
 age man will go on treating his wife like a pauper, and 
 frequently she won't know it is wrong. I know a man 
 who has an income of ten thousand dollars a year, and 
 the other day I heard his wife ask him for a quarter, 
 and she made the request quite fearfully. Now, you 
 see, if that man should set aside a certain portion of his 
 income annually, so that his wife could draw it without 
 recourse to him, he feels certain that she would lose her 
 wifely feeling of subjection, and might grow strong- 
 minded. Just think of it ! They don't buy our bodies 
 any more, but they make it even by buying our souls, 
 and never fail to remind us that they consider the bar-
 
 WARD'S MOTHER-IN-LAW 235 
 
 gain a very poor one," and Katherine looked so thor- 
 oughly wretched and broken-hearted, that John was 
 obliged to put the strongest possible restraint upon him- 
 self, to avoid expressing to her the very depth of the 
 sympathy she roused in him. 
 
 To see her, the lady of his dreams, insulted, trampled 
 upon, and to feel himself powerless to help her, was bit- 
 ter indeed. 
 
 "But, Mrs. Ward, do you see no way of obtaining jus- 
 tice ? " he said at last, " no way of compelling Ward to 
 give you your rights ? " 
 
 " No way at present that I would use," replied Kath- 
 erine briefly ; " women resort to all sorts of shifts and 
 tricks to extort money from their husbands, and I sup- 
 pose I could do it as they do, for I am beautiful and 
 Ward is human, but I would not lower myself to lie and 
 truckle for all the money in the world, not even for my 
 mother, my dear mother," she added as the tears dropped 
 once more through her fingers. 
 
 " Is your mother in distress ? " asked John gently. 
 
 "Yes," replied Katherine ; "you see, mother had only 
 a small income of her own. We always shared every- 
 thing, and when I married I intended to give her half of 
 my money, but I have never been able to send her any- 
 thing but articles of dress, and now she is ill." 
 
 " And does Ward know that ? " asked John indig- 
 nantly. 
 
 " Oh, yes ; he said he hadn't married my mother, and 
 he would see that I did not throw my money away," 
 replied Katherine, still crying softly. " You see, lately 
 I have taken a few scholars so that I can send her some- 
 thing, but of course I cannot get for lessons what I 
 received in New York, so it isn't much, and mother 
 doesn't understand why I treat her in this way." 
 
 " Have you never told her about about your hus- 
 band's peculiarities ? " asked John in surprise.
 
 236 WHICH WINS 
 
 " No, of course not ; why should I ? " cried Katherine 
 with a quick glance ; " it would only worry her to death, 
 and do no good. Some time I shall take her unexpectedly 
 in my arms, when she isn't looking for me, and then she 
 will understand. If she doesn't die before I make up 
 my mind," she concluded with a quiver in her voice. 
 
 Meanwhile all sorts of ideas were fermenting in 
 John's brain. It seemed as if his old friend's character, 
 in its painful development, was unrolling before him, 
 and he comprehended mysteries and seized clews which 
 had before been meaningless to him. 
 
 "Mrs. Ward," he asked after a pause, "do you know 
 how your husband invested your money, and whether he 
 draws an income from it ? " 
 
 " I don't know," replied Katherine, shaking her head 
 listlessly ; " he said once he had put three thousand dol- 
 lars of it in a Nebraska farm, and that there was no one 
 on it, and it brought no income, though it was worth 
 many times the amount invested " 
 
 " Good heavens ! " cried John suddenly, " I never 
 thought that. Oh, no, Ward ! you did not do that surely," 
 he exclaimed in a sort of agony, until a realization of his 
 friend's perfidy, before that moment undreamed of, 
 dawned upon him. 
 
 He rose and walked hurriedly to the window, feeling 
 suffocated by the crowding thoughts which surged over 
 him, while Katherine, startled by his excitement and 
 exclamation, sprang to his side asking if he were ill. 
 
 "No, no!" he said, seizing her hands and pressing 
 them hard, while he felt that she must not suspect the 
 discovery he had made. "Not ill, not ill, Katherine, 
 darling," and she never forgot the look in his eyes while 
 he pressed her hands again so that she almost screamed. 
 " I must not stay here," he added more quietly : " the 
 thought of your suffering and my own is more than I 
 can bear."
 
 JOHN MAKES A DISCOVERY 237 
 
 He knelt down all at once and touched her fingers 
 with his lips. "Forgive me," he cried, "forgive me, 
 but I can't help it. Do not stay with that man: it is 
 desecration." And then he was gone. 
 
 It seemed to Katherine as if the world shut down 
 ruthlessly black and cold about her after she was alone, 
 and yet, through the sense of her own misery, cut the 
 realization of John's suffering. 
 
 She had been so wrapped in her personal troubles 
 lately that she had almost forgotten those of other 
 people, excepting the other people who had husbands, 
 and John was so calm, so self-contained, he held her 
 always and sustained her with the strength of his spirit. 
 She had seen his eyes flash often, but it was with that 
 deep, inner fire which contains no passion. But this 
 time he had broken utterly. She had seen passion and 
 deep suffering in his eyes when he knelt before her 
 there, and she could not understand what had brought it 
 so suddenly to the surface. Katherine was far from 
 believing that it was love for her alone that had thrown 
 John off his guard like that. She felt in a far-away sort 
 of fashion that John loved her always ; but it never 
 seemed like the love of other men, the consciousness of 
 it held nothing shocking, and she was sure that it would 
 never unman John. 
 
 Long she pondered over the mystery ; but it escaped 
 her, and she went up-stairs at last, feeling that after her 
 frank talk with John a talk which she could neither 
 approve nor regret it was doubly impossible for her 
 to remain under her husband's roof. 
 
 "It will not be long," she said, as she unbound her 
 hair before the mirror, and gazed at the pale face re- 
 flected in its clear depths ; " the necessity will come 
 before many days, and then I shall be free." 
 
 She sat long before the fire in her dressing-room,
 
 238 WHICH WINS 
 
 luxuriating in her loneliness, for her disgust for her hus- 
 band, his self-satisfaction and selfish delight in his 
 wealth, had grown so strong of late, that it seemed as if 
 his presence in the house stifled her. 
 
 Katherine's sympathies were not always broad, except 
 where her own sufferings had taught her charity, and 
 she could not soften her husband's faults by any philo- 
 sophical explanation of their cause and palliation of 
 their development. Their existence simply irritated 
 her, and this irritation grew more and more intense each 
 day as her own conception of his narrowness and limita- 
 tions deepened. She did not care anything about the 
 tendencies of the time which appealed to his particular 
 weaknesses and strengthened them ; she felt simply that 
 she suffered unbearably, and that she must end her tor- 
 ments in some way. The bondage of conventionality 
 was fast losing its hold upon her, and it only needed a 
 touch more at some unexpected moment to snap forever 
 the relation between herself and her unheeding husband. 
 
 Meanwhile she waited.
 
 MAGGIE FALLS IN LOVE 239 
 
 CHAPTEE XXVII 
 
 MAGGIE FALLS IN LOVE 
 
 MAGGIE WATSON had grown into a very pretty-looking 
 and well-mannered young woman, who might have as- 
 pired to a marriage with some youth from the " higher 
 walks/' so called, if she had not inherited from her 
 father a contempt so supreme for gentlemen of that 
 circle in life that nothing could have induced her to 
 accept the attentions of one of them. Mr. Thurston, 
 she frequently said, was the only "gentleman" she ever 
 knew who was worthy of having been born a mechanic ; 
 and her manner toward those knights of the drawing- 
 room with whom business relations brought her in con- 
 tact was so standoffish at first, that her father felt 
 obliged to warn her of the imprudence of too much 
 independence in "trade." 
 
 "Business air business, Mag, an' ye don't want ter 
 bite yer own nose off," he remarked. " It's allays wuth 
 while ter do that air fur principle, but 'taint no kind o' 
 use fur the sake o' one o' them whipper-snappers the 
 Lord made o' what he had left from mankind in gineral, 
 an' don't you furgit it ! " 
 
 Maggie remembered the advice, and henceforth rather 
 delighted in practising on the whipper-snappers with 
 smiles, and rejoicing secretly at the condition of help- 
 less pulp to which she was frequently able to reduce 
 them, and from which she delighted to draw them forth 
 occasionally by a sudden and unexpected application of 
 " business woman's sarcasm," as she called it. 
 
 No one ever luxuriated more heartily than Maggie, in
 
 240 WHICH WINS 
 
 emergence from a menial condition, and her father's 
 delight in her typewritin' experiences was hardly 
 equalled by her own satisfaction therein. 
 
 At the office she was famous for her wit and unfailing 
 sang froid, and few people dreamed of the tenderness 
 which nestled in her heart, or the warmth of feeling 
 which could flame into her brown eyes, when occasion 
 demanded. 
 
 Her acquaintance with Felix Craig had strengthened 
 all the gentler side of Maggie's nature, since she admired 
 the young carpenter from the first, and felt no need of 
 restraining her admiration, as he had a trade, and be- 
 longed to the same body of the Knights of Labor as 
 herself. For Maggie was an enthusiastic agitator, read 
 Karl Marx and even some tracts of Bakunin, and 
 expressed her conviction of the dignity and value of 
 labor with an intensity which was frequently highly 
 amusing to her audience, and ought to have been unfail- 
 ingly edifying. 
 
 It certainly was the latter to Craig, and Maggie never 
 forgot the kind way in which he thanked her, the first 
 time she ever made a speech at the Knights of Labor 
 meeting, and how feelingly he assured her that if more 
 women would come to the meetings and make speeches 
 like that, the cause of labor would soon grow to huge 
 proportions. 
 
 The meetings of the Knights of Labor, in fact, were 
 Maggie's great delight. She thought over the speeches 
 she heard there, and the topics discussed, with very 
 good results as far as her own culture was concerned, 
 and certainly with a vast amount of pleasure. Politics 
 became rapidly her strong point, and after John began 
 to attend the meetings and discuss the political aspects 
 of the Labor question, he had no more attentive listener, 
 no more enthusiastic disciple, than Maggie Watson.
 
 MAGGIE'S CHAMPIONSHIP 241 
 
 Her own situation and experience made her realize 
 accurately the truth of John's proposition that the only 
 solution of the Labor problem lay in making it a national 
 question, in opening the eyes of all classes to the truth 
 that it touched all, and was not limited solely to those 
 who labor with the hands. Maggie had come in contact 
 with upper-tendom through the Thurstons and Katherine, 
 who had taken the entire Watson family under her pro- 
 tection, greatly to Ward's disgust he had a secret 
 conviction that a large portion of the family provisions 
 were privately conveyed into the Watson's larder through 
 the easy gullibility of his wife and her business re- 
 lations with the aforesaid whipper-snappers had taught 
 her a great deal. She realized in this way the chasm 
 existing between the classes of producers and consumers, 
 their poor comprehension of each other, and the neces- 
 sity of bringing them into harmony. 
 
 Thus, in spite of her private preference for mechanics, 
 all of Maggie's influence among the knights, and it was 
 not small, was thrown in the direction of John's move- 
 ment. One night in particular she did him a service 
 for which he was forever grateful. John had been 
 making a speech about the value of education in general, 
 and in urging the advantage of night schools for young 
 mechanics who had enjoyed few early advantages, and 
 were anxious to improve themselves ; dilated somewhat 
 too enthusiastically, perhaps, upon the charm of refine- 
 ment in all things refinement to which any one might 
 aspire, no matter what his station, but which the work- 
 ingman too often neglected and despised. This fact, 
 he said, was one reason for the misunderstanding exist- 
 ing between the more and less highly educated classes, 
 the workingman often scorning refinements of taste, 
 culture, and manner, and the professional man, for 
 instance, repelled by the lack of these desirable but
 
 242 WHICH WINS 
 
 unessential things in his more practical confrere, and 
 thus failing to do justice to the sterling worth of mind 
 and character which the mechanic possessed. 
 
 There was a murmur of dissatisfaction as John sat 
 down, and several hot-headed speeches were made, es- 
 pecially one by a man named Carleton, who was promi- 
 nent among the Labor Union men, and who demanded 
 fiercely that they exclude all aristocrats from their 
 membership, and tolerate no utterances which were but 
 a veiled attempt to gild the chains in which labor was 
 held by conscienceless oppressors of the poor, etc. 
 
 John sat still, feeling that it would be useless for 
 him to say a word in explanation of his meaning, while 
 such a spirit of uncharitableness pervaded the meeting, 
 when suddenly Maggie rose, and, frankly begging that 
 they would not class her among the rich and vicious 
 from the tenor of her remarks, proceeded to explain 
 John's meaning to the best of her ability. 
 
 She told the story of Rose's white table-cloth and 
 napkins, and of the enjoyment they had all gained from 
 this simple addition to their table equipage, and made 
 the whole situation so clear in a few words, that even 
 the anarchichal Carleton rose and apologized, declaring 
 that he never would stand against progress of any sort ; 
 but if there was anything he hated on this earth, it was 
 the cussed airs some folks put on, and the idea of excus- 
 ing them or advising the laboring man to adopt them 
 was more than he could stand. But he added that he 
 accepted the explanation given, and his desire for har- 
 mony was so intense he was willing to go through any 
 ordeal to reach it, from studying picture galleries to 
 waxing his mustache. This last remark raised a great 
 laugh, for Carleton's mustache was something indescrib- 
 able, and the spirit of the meeting during the remainder 
 of the evening was all that could be desired.
 
 CHIVALRY AMONG THE KNIGHTS 243 
 
 After that episode, however, John's position among 
 the knights was secure, and he could say anything to 
 them without fear of misapprehension. They under- 
 stood him, and followed his lead unhesitatingly, though 
 the idea of a political movement, which was rather 
 John's hobby, had been unpopular among many of them 
 at first. They lost their jealousy of John as a gentle- 
 man also, and of course by that very fact became 
 less eager to think ill of other " gentlemen," while a 
 conception of the power of union grew upon them 
 constantly. 
 
 It impressed John very much at these meetings to 
 see the admiration and respect with which Maggie was 
 treated, and with which all her utterances were received, 
 and he many times wondered doubtfully whether a body 
 of highly educated professional men would treat a woman 
 with the same deference. In fact, the whole attitude of 
 the laboring-men in regard to the woman question puz- 
 zled him. He found a favorable opinion on woman suf- 
 frage unanimous, and the expressions in regard to it 
 invariably warm and enthusiastic ; in fact, there were 
 several members of the Knights of Labor and the Labor 
 Union organizations who invariably went out of their 
 way to speak most chivalrously in favor of this question, 
 so mooted among men who call themselves advanced and 
 highly educated. 
 
 John wondered often why it was. Had their own 
 wrongs made them more sympathetic with the sufferings 
 of their wives and sisters ? he queried, or had enlighten- 
 ment come from experience of the fact that the political 
 disabilities of an unfranchised class force them to work 
 for lower wages, and thus crowd out the independent 
 laborer who can vote and feels able to demand more for 
 his time ? 
 
 Whatever the cause, the result was admirable, and
 
 244 WHICH WINS 
 
 John's final source of astonishment was that the woman 
 suffragists did not unite with the labor organizations 
 and sweep the country, or, at least, come nearer such a 
 feat than they had ever done before. 
 
 Meanwhile Maggie's love affair ripened with the pros- 
 pects of the people's party, and she and Felix Craig 
 promised to make an admirable two in one, provided 
 they should ever be rich enough to marry. Maggie 
 could not afford to give up her work while there were 
 so many little mouths to fill at home, and Felix was 
 romantic in his adherence to what Maggie considered 
 the old-fashioned idea that a man must support his wife, 
 exclusively. She finally told him one day that she 
 never would marry him until he gave up that pernicious 
 idea. 
 
 " Then I'll give it up immediately, of course," cried 
 Felix in dismay ; " but how do you suppose I could stand 
 it to see you wearing yourself out unnecessarily ? " 
 
 " I should not wear myself out," replied Maggie with 
 decision; "but do you suppose I want to settle down 
 into a financial nonentity after having earned my bread 
 so long in the world ? " 
 
 "You wouldn't be a financial nonentity," exclaimed 
 Felix in reply ; "I would make you the banker, and give 
 you every cent I earn." 
 
 " Hum, would you ? " cried Maggie, while her nose 
 took on a very derisive tilt ; " how long, I should like 
 to know ? How can I say how far I can trust you after 
 the honeymoon is over ? Besides, that would be giving: 
 I want to earn my own salary." 
 
 " But, Maggie," insisted Craig, " if you stay at home 
 and take care of the house and family, you earn " 
 
 " Oh, yes, I know all that ; part of it is true, and part 
 of it is stuff ! " cried Maggie the strong-minded. "If I 
 had children, I should stay at home contentedly and take
 
 MAGGIE'S INDEPENDENCE 245 
 
 your salary ; but as long as I had none, I should much 
 rather be earning something, and I can't see why it 
 wouldn't be the proper thing for me to do. It would 
 make me more independent : I know you would think 
 more of me, and you never could throw it up to me 
 that you supported me in idleness, and were in danger 
 of the poorhouse from my gowns," continued the girl, 
 thinking of what Marie had told her of Ward's occa- 
 sional tirades at his wife "so there now! you can 
 see for yourself I am perfectly just and reasonable." 
 
 And Craig was obliged to confess that there was a 
 great deal of good-sense in Maggie's statement of the 
 case, though he could not quite overcome his prejudice 
 in regard to woman's sphere after marriage, as far as 
 the home and the dish-pan were concerned, or, as Maggie 
 put it, the dish-pan and the home. 
 
 " You'd better go to England," she said one day sar- 
 castically ; " they think spinsters and widows shoujd 
 vote over there, but not the married women. Oh, no ! 
 A married woman couldn't possibly be anything but 
 her husband's echo, and so, of course, suffrage would be 
 of no use to her." 
 
 "Why, Maggie!" cried Felix in a pained tone, "did 
 I ever say I thought married women ought not to 
 vote ? " 
 
 " No," replied Maggie cruelly ; " but if it isn't proper 
 for me to earn money, of course it isn't proper for me 
 to vote ; if a husband's shadow can't have financial 
 independence, what would it want with suffrage, I 
 should like to know, and what could an automatic 
 dish-washer and house-cleaner do with ideas anyway ? 
 They wouldn't go in her husband's stomach or on his 
 back, and that's where her province begins and ends, I 
 suppose. Really, Felix, it would be so awfully tame to 
 wash dishes and darn socks all the time, that I am
 
 246 WHICH WINS 
 
 afraid I should tear holes in the roof for variety, and 
 so you'll have to let me keep on typewriting till some- 
 thing better turns up, and for the sake of the furniture." 
 It is safe to say that inherited ideas could not stand 
 such relentless storming as this, and Felix was obliged 
 to give in, especially as he gradually came to the con- 
 clusion that, in their condition, the practical sense was 
 all on Maggie's side, as it was. And when later on they 
 did consummate their union, no bride was ever happier 
 and better contented, no wife more independent and 
 perfectly comprehended than Maggie. The trust and 
 friendship of the young couple grew wider and deeper 
 with on-going time, and demonstrated the fact that in 
 marriage, as in every other sort of a contract, a perfect 
 understanding and mutual independence are the most 
 lasting articles of agreement.
 
 A NEW KIND OF POLITICS 247 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 A NEW KIND OF POLITICS 
 
 IT was fortunate for John that his political entangle- 
 ments were very absorbing during the days following 
 that memorable interview with Katherine, and that 
 various circumstances separated him from Ward for 
 some time. The latter gentleman found the springs 
 so interesting, or his health so poor, that he stayed ten 
 days, though the hotel was quite expensive, and the 
 political atmosphere at home growing more exciting 
 every day. After his return, moreover, he was so en- 
 gaged in preparation for his anticipated nomination for 
 mayor that he was seldom seen at the office, and, when 
 there, only came in to look over his mail and deliver 
 some necessary orders, and then hurried off again with- 
 out waiting to speak to any one. 
 
 John's state of mind, meanwhile, can be more easily 
 imagined than described. The certainty at which he 
 had arrived so suddenly and unexpectedly that Ward 
 had bought the mortgage on his farm, opened such a 
 vista of appalling accusations and distressing possibilities 
 before him, that he shrank from the prospect. He 
 could not but regard Ward as partly guilty of his 
 mother's death, as he had driven him to extremities 
 while understanding perfectly the circumstances in 
 which he was entangled. He had taken advantage of 
 his difficulties to wrest from him his property, and with 
 such cold-hearted reasoning from cause to effect, that 
 John shrank from the conception of his friend's char- 
 acter forced upon him.
 
 248 WHICH WINS 
 
 " I gave him ray confidence frankly," he said to him- 
 self a thousand times during that first week of painful 
 knowledge, "and he used it wittingly for my destruc- 
 tion. It would have been more human to kill and rob 
 me at once, but he has condemned me to slow torture 
 without a single pang of remorse, I verily believe. It's 
 business, that's all." 
 
 Yet when John considered the possibility of giving up 
 his place he shrank from it for the present, doubly intol- 
 erable as it had become to him. He had cast in his lot 
 so entirely with Watson that he was at present the main 
 support of the family, and rejoicing, as he did, unself- 
 ishly, in the comfort which surrounded them, through 
 the combined salaries of himself, Watson, and Maggie, 
 he dreaded to throw up his position and remain out of 
 work for any length of time, as he surely would at that 
 season of the year, with Ward's enmity to contend with. 
 He must count upon that he well knew, for he realized 
 what would be the wrath of a selfish and grasping man 
 who saw himself exposed, and faced the contempt, or, 
 rather, the comprehension of one whom he had grown to 
 look upon as a sort of dependent crank. 
 
 The torture of those days was very great. John had 
 never recovered from the shock of his mother's death, 
 and there were hours when he seemed to see her con- 
 stantly, as she had looked during the last months upon 
 the farm, and when her eyes answered his with a silent 
 reproach which was unendurable. He knew that she 
 would never blame him for what had happened, yet the 
 conviction that she might have lived many years if she 
 had remained in New York made him feel as if he had 
 murdered her. 
 
 He failed under the strain of anxiety so visibly that 
 kind-hearted Kose was alarmed, and racked her brain to 
 devise new dishes to tempt back his departed appetite ;
 
 JOHN'S POLITICAL ENTHUSIASM 249 
 
 and Watson came home one day, armed with a nauseous- 
 looking black bottle, the contents of which he recom- 
 mended solemnly for John's apparent " biliousness." 
 
 Still, politics went on, business went on, and, through 
 all, the torment of outraged confidence and treacherous 
 betrayal never ceased, so that John wondered sometimes 
 why his heart did not stop beating, or his brain snap in 
 two. He could not bring himself to see Katherine again, 
 and yet the thought of her, defrauded even more basely 
 if possible than himself, added another shadow to his 
 waking thoughts and a menace to his dreams ; for the 
 Nebraska dream, in which he had sought in vain to 
 succor her, recurred again and again during these weari- 
 some nights, with only the additional calamity of his 
 mother's death to vary it. 
 
 John was thankful, sometimes, that his consciousness 
 of other people's suffering was so keen, for in it he could 
 lose sight of his own, and the speeches he made nightly 
 to crowds of listeners were enthusiastically cheered. 
 The Labor Union party had followed his lead, and, for 
 the approaching municipal contest, had prepared a ticket 
 upon which John's name appeared as alderman, and the 
 other offices were filled by names chosen from among 
 the most honorable citizens of the town, and selected 
 from all classes. The idea of a people's ticket proved 
 wonderfully popular; and while no one had any idea 
 that the names upon it could be elected in opposition to 
 the candidates chosen by the regular parties, every one 
 was surprised by the notice the movement received, and 
 the extent to which the reforms it advocated seemed to 
 get into the air, fill people's minds, and drop from their 
 tongues. The nominations were made by vote, and were 
 preceded by a giant meeting on the public square, at 
 which John made a speech long remembered by those 
 who heard it, and in which he struck the keynote of the 
 campaign.
 
 250 WHICH WINS 
 
 " Friends and brothers," he began, " we are united by 
 a motto which is as old as civilization and as strong as 
 granite. ' In union is strength ; ' and with this in our 
 hearts we can carry all things before us. The misery of 
 the world arises not from God's providence, not from the 
 sins of our forefathers, but from man's inhumanity ; and 
 whence springs that inhumanity ? from the prejudice 
 which comes from ignorance, the coldness which is attrib- 
 utable to our own inability to realize the sufferings of 
 others. 
 
 " Dear friends, did you ever see a great audience look 
 calmly on and watch others perishing, burning, drown- 
 ing ? Did you ever witness an accident in the coal-mines 
 of Pennsylvania, where the deadly fire-damp had broken 
 out in the hidden passageways far down in the bowels of 
 the earth, and hundreds of human beings stood massed 
 around the shaft of the mine, suffering, agonizing with 
 those below, nay, offering life to save them without a 
 moment's hesitation ? Friends, I have seen such a 
 throng, and there was no coldness in it, no indifference 
 to wrong, to suffering, to human pain, yet the men and 
 women gathered there were no ideal highly sensitive 
 group, they Avere the flesh and blood of every day, which 
 does the work and suffers the pain of the world ; but they 
 saiv the pain, it was before them, visible to them, open 
 with all its agony to their living eyes. 
 
 "And so, friends, I declare to you that if you can 
 plainly tell one half of the world how the other half 
 lives, how it suffers, how it strangles and dies daily 
 under the exactions of injustice, humanity will rise as 
 one man, and strike down its oppressions, and never rest 
 until it stands free under the face of heaven, free to 
 pursue its way untrammelled on the road to health, hap- 
 piness, and knowledge. The incubus under which the 
 world struggles now is a lack of charity, of sympathy, of
 
 A PEOPLE'S CAMPAIGN 251 
 
 comprehension, and this we have set ourselves to remove, 
 joining hands in an honest endeavor to destroy preju- 
 dice, open the eyes of justice which have been blind too 
 long, and show humanity the fiendishness of a selfish 
 enjoyment gained from the limitations and torments of 
 others." 
 
 How long John talked he never knew ; but certainly 
 when he paused at last he was nearly carried from the 
 stand by the enthusiasm of his listeners, and he felt 
 that for the moment, at least, he had solved the problem 
 of class union. 
 
 The Labor Union men threw themselves into the 
 campaign with infectious spirit, and carried the war of 
 social reform into ranks which they had never thought of 
 penetrating heretofore, and the members of which, up to 
 that time, had certainly remained untouched by the craze 
 of social reform. Even Watson so far caught the conta- 
 gion of the campaign that he made several speeches, 
 which, if the truth must be told, were enthusiastically 
 received. He went over into West Kansas City one 
 afternoon on some business errand, and encountered the 
 crowd of employes in the packing-houses, just as the 
 whistles had sounded release from their long day's labor. 
 Watson knew well how hard is the lot of the packing- 
 house employe, working long hours at labor which 
 hardens the muscles and deadens the sensibilities, at a 
 rate of remuneration which leaves the victim no chance 
 except the mere prolongation of brutal existence. As 
 the men filed out with dinner-pails in their hands, the 
 cumulative effect of so many faces, sodden with the 
 curse of excessive toil, and lighted by no gleam of a 
 hope of better things, indifferent to the possibility of 
 improved conditions, it was too much for Watson. 
 He sprang upon an empty barrel, which stood conven- 
 iently near, shouting,
 
 252 WHICH WINS 
 
 " Look here, you fellers, I've got somethin' ter say ter 
 ye ! Did ye ever hear tell o' sech a thing ez workin' six 
 hours a day, an' gittin' more'n ye git now ? o' livin' on 
 the fat o' the land, with no fear o' comin' down ter the 
 lean cause ye forgot to lay aside a slice o' the fat fur 
 to-morrer? Wai, that there's wot I'm a-givin' ye, ef 
 ye'll listen a minit ; " he went on, and a general growl of 
 assent from the sullen faces about him warned him that 
 he had touched the right chord. 
 
 " I reckon ye ben trampin', ain't ye ? " cried one 
 fellow, hanging his dinner-pail on the fence and prepar- 
 ing to listen with considerable interest to what should 
 follow. " I don't know no one but tramps that lives as 
 high as ye say, without doin' nothin' ! " 
 
 " Tramps ! " exclaimed Watson derisively ; " did ye 
 ever see a tramp work six hours a day, I'd like ter ask ? 
 an' whar's yer tramp livin' in a decent house, with shoes 
 on his young un's feet an' a liberry to repose in if he's 
 took a litererry turn in his old age ? The fellers I'm 
 talkin' about hez all that, an' more too ; turkey for 
 dinner every day, with cranberry sauce throwed in free 
 ez air, an' somebody ter wash the dishes an' darn the 
 socks while yer wife rocks the baby maybe ! " 
 
 " Aw, look here ! wot ye givin' us ? " interrupted an- 
 other sullenly ; " there ain't no place whur a packin'- 
 house man gits- that kind o' livin', an' never will be, so 
 stop yer cussed foolin' ; can't ye ? " 
 
 " I never see a man that low down he hadn't no wish 
 ter git up ef he could," cried Watson earnestly ; " ef 
 ye're livin' off'n corn bread an' 'lasses, an' somebody 
 p'ints ye on to a side o' bacon, ye won't knock him 
 down, will ye, an' cuss his impidence with yer mouth 
 full o' good fat meat ? " 
 
 "No, you bet!" assented another; "go on, an' bust 
 yer head, ef ye want ter!" and thus gracefully adjured,
 
 WATSON'S DEMOCRACY 253 
 
 Watson dashed off into a spirited description of the 
 wrongs of the workingman, and the political atrocities 
 of the two great parties. 
 
 " Did ye ever elect a man ter office that cared anything 
 about ye, or wanted ter help ye up out'n the mire ye was 
 born an' bred in ? " he asked sarcastically ; " or did any- 
 thing but swill round in the saloons at night, an' tell ye 
 how much he loved the workin'man in the mornin' ? No, 
 sir ; ye put in a party man every time, a feller that does 
 good work fur the party, an' ye never seem to think it's 
 the people he orter do fur ! Ain't ye a fine lot o' fools, 
 now, livin' in a land whar ye kin hev whatever ye will, 
 an' send people to Congress that kin make laws ter give 
 ye easy work an' good pay ; an' there ye be blowin' in a lot 
 o' fellers that wants ter keep ye down ez low ez they 
 kin, an' make nothin' but cattle on ye ! 
 
 "Talk about dynamite an' bombs ter blow the rich 
 fellers inter a million flinders, wot's the use o' riots 
 when ye got the best kind o' bombs right in yer own 
 fists thar ! This here's a land whar every one on us, 
 bein' he ain't born a woman, hez a right ter vote how he 
 pleases ; an' did ye ever think wot that thar means ? It 
 means ye kin find men that'll make laws fur the poor 
 men, laws that'll legislate the millionnaires out'n the 
 track, an' that's a heap pleasanter way o' gittin' red on 
 'em than blowin' 'em out ; ain't it, now ? That's wot 
 our constitution's fur, ter give every one on us a ekil 
 chance in the country ; but these here politicians, wot 
 wants ter make money out'n mankind, they've twisted 
 an' turned things, till nobody thinks o' puttin' up a man 
 fur office cause the people wants him. They puts him 
 up 'cause they can use him ter grind their own particklar 
 axes, an' bamboozle folks inter 'lectin' him. Now, thar's 
 some on us wot's thought a lot 'bout these yer things, 
 an' we're goin' ter put a ticket in the field wot'll mean
 
 254 WHICH WINS 
 
 the rights o' the people 'g'in the millionnaires ; do ye 
 take that in? 
 
 " We're a' 'lectin' these yer men fur all you fellers, 
 fur the sake o' that turkey an' cranberry sauce I wor 
 a-tellin' ye 'bout jist now ; an' you fellows wot wants 
 it '11 vote fur 'era, I reckon. We may not bust up the 
 high mucky-mucks wot runs the trusts and packin'- 
 houses fust thing, but we'll put 'em up next time, 
 and look for you fellers to keep on votin' fur 'em till 
 six hours a day, or three maybe, looms up under yer 
 nose, with good livin' ter wash it down, an' the million- 
 naires a-puttin' in their best licks beside ye till ye're 
 plumb through! 
 
 " That's wot the new party means, an' no more boodle 
 politicians fur me, ef ye please, no more dymmycratic 
 an' republican trust companies, talkin' 'bout tariff reform, 
 an' blowin' the money inter the millionnaires' pockets, 
 till we ain't got but three dollars ahead in circulation 
 nohow, an' gittin' beautifully less at that ! I'm fur the 
 people every time, an' I'm fur the right of every son on 
 us ter a good livin', and free schoolin' fur the young uns. 
 You fellers that believes in that doctrine take these yere 
 tickets an' vote 'em, an' don't ye b'lieve none o' them 
 scoundrels wot comes round with a five-dollar bill, an' 
 tells ye their man's the man fur the people ! The 
 people's man's him wot they ain't paid to vote fur every 
 time, an' the feller the millionnaires is doin' thar best 
 ter buy out'n the track." 
 
 And Watson sprang from the barrel-head, and fell to 
 distributing his tickets, delighted to see the interest 
 glowing in several faces, which before had hardly 
 reflected a sodden consciousness of existence. 
 
 Watson's interest in the campaign was so intense that 
 it hardly allowed him time to attend to his ordinary 
 avocations, though John warned him that it was not
 
 WATSON EXPLAINS THE SITUATION 255 
 
 worth while to lose his place for the sake of the people's 
 ticket, as it would be soine time before the following of 
 the movement would be strong enough to bring about 
 that ideal government "by the people and for the peo- 
 ple," which they all desired so strongly, and under which 
 a man's physical needs would no longer demand all his 
 attention. John thought that, as a member of a 
 corporate government, a man's anxieties in this direction 
 should be partially, at least, relieved; so that men of 
 the sterling worth of Watson would no longer be so 
 ground upon the wheel of poverty that the higher part 
 of them could only develop by snatches, as it were, and 
 even then at the expense of practical necessities. 
 Watson, however, made it perfectly clear to his friends 
 why he became so absorbed. 
 
 " Ye see, it's mankind," he said ; " I git down amongst 
 the slums, whar ther's young uns playin' in the gutters, 
 an' dirty women dawdlin' on the doorsteps, with pale 
 little babies in their arms, an' it jist does me up. If I 
 could stan' all the rest, I never could stan' the babies, 
 nohow. It do look like ef anything in this here uni- 
 varse oughter hev fresh air an' plenty ter eat, it's a baby ; 
 an' when ye see 'em starvin' an' dyin' fur lack o' them 
 two things, it jist turns ye sick. I see one to-day now : 
 the mother wor a pale young thing, an' she wor a-walkin' 
 up an' down on the sunny side o' the street, the pore little 
 thing a-wailin' an' a-cryin', an' I sez to her, ' What's up ? ' 
 sez I. ' Oh, I lost my husband six months ago,' sez she, 
 ' an' sense that I ben a-tryin' to sew ; but the baby it 
 frets, an' my room's sech a little tucked-up place I can't 
 do much, an' I'm afeared it'll die too.' 
 
 " Her tears kep' a-droppin' down all the while she wor 
 a-talkin', an' I jist couldn't stan' it. I told her to bring 
 the young un over to my house till she got chirked up 
 a bit, an' she's in the kitchen this minit. I ain't got
 
 256 WHICH WINS 
 
 much," said Watson ruefully, " but I can't stan' off 'n see 
 a baby die 'thout doin' suthin' fur it, nohow." 
 
 Watson's enthusiasm was not less overpowering and 
 contagious than that of some of the regular Labor Union 
 men. One of tl^em, called Ked Barker, not from a 
 predominance of gore, either in character or appearance, 
 but simply because Redfield was altogether too long a 
 name for every-day use, came to John shortly after the 
 mass meeting, to express his interest in the cause. 
 
 He was a large, fair-haired man, breathing good- 
 nature and sympathy with every inhalation of his 
 powerful lungs, and he was eager to go to work for the 
 cause. 
 
 " I didn't believe in it at first, I do say," he confessed ; 
 "but, Thurston, you've struck the right note. That 
 speech of yours was printed in full in the Midland 
 Mechanic, and it's astonishing the people that talk about 
 it. Never seemed to see the thing that way before, but 
 the minute they do see it they know it's so. I came 
 down town this morning with Dr. Mitford ; he's one o' 
 the bigbugs xip in my neighborhood, and he says to me, 
 says he, 'Barker,' says he, 'that young Thurston hit 
 the nail on the head, and I believe I'll vote your ticket. 
 I'm a-getting awful sick of political machines myself, 
 and I'd like nothing better than to 'see a new party on 
 its feet, working straight from the people, without any 
 go-betweens to fool them out of just representation.' 
 
 " < Well, Doctor,' says I, ' that's the way I like to hear 
 a man talk, and I hope there'll be more of your class 
 that'll take a hold,' says I, ' for we mean to carry through 
 our reform till we elect the president of the United 
 States; and he'll be the president, too, and don't you 
 forget it ; and not one o' these puppy jacks that dances 
 when any one pulls a string.' 
 
 " And he laughed, and says he, ( There's half a dozen
 
 A REFORMER IN HOMESPUN 257 
 
 men I know that will vote with you, and I'll turn all iny 
 influence that way, and be glad to,' says he, and with 
 that he turned off. But I just thought to myself, that 
 kind of talk tells, don't it now ? " and the big mechanic 
 slapped his knee with an emphasis which would have 
 made a nervous man start. 
 
 John smiled sympathetically. " That's very encour- 
 aging, certainly, Barker," he said : " the idea is, of course, 
 to reach all classes, and make them understand that all 
 are equally interested in the solution of our economic 
 problem ; that it affects the millionnaire as well as the 
 workingman, and affects both not only in character, but 
 in pocket. With the present dangerous contraction and 
 limitation of currency and, therefore, business, things 
 cannot go on much longer without a crash; and though 
 the wealthy man may hoard his millions for a while, 
 when the fatal moment comes his piled-up capital will 
 have to go, as well as the cottage of the artisan, and it 
 is for his interest to prevent such a catastrophe. They 
 say Kome went to pieces when the circulation reached 
 three dollars per capita" he added thoughtfully, "and 
 ours is now only nine ; that looks rather ominous, Eed, 
 does it not ? " 
 
 Barker laughed with a roly-poly shaking of his fat 
 shoulders that was delightful to see. " I tell you," he 
 replied, " I'm mighty glad I ain't a millionnaire : I'd give 
 myself up to works of charity pretty lively, if I was ! " 
 
 Barker devoted himself to the task of spreading the 
 good news with an unctuous enjoyment, which went far 
 toward insuring the success of his propagandist efforts. 
 He loved to buttonhole a pale young man going home at 
 night with his lunch-basket on his arm, and thrust a 
 pile of tickets into his hand, with an explanation as to 
 their purpose ; and it did his heart good to see how 
 almost invariably the worn face would flush, and the
 
 258 WHICH WINS 
 
 tired eyes brighten, as he heard the story of the league 
 of honesty against fraud, of generosity against selfish- 
 ness, of the people against monopoly. Barker never 
 failed to get this in, and then add emphatically, "This 
 government of ours started out to be a government of 
 the people, by the people, and for the people; but 
 things have reached such a pass now that you can only 
 call it a government of monopoly, by monopoly, and for 
 monopoly." 
 
 He made his advances as insidiously as possible, 
 frequently asked his fore-ordained convert how much 
 wages he received, how many hours he worked, etc. 
 He was especially delighted if his victim, or protege, had 
 never thought of his wrongs, and he had the felicity not 
 only of rousing his sense of the injustice weighing upon 
 him, but of exposing to him all the attractions of an 
 incoming system, under which wrongs would not be 
 tolerated, men should be brothers practically not 
 theoretically, and it would be impossible for a capitalist 
 to suck a man's soul out, "as he would an egg," said 
 Barker explanatorily, and put it in his strong-box. 
 
 Barker had, in fact, in earlier years, confessed to 
 anarchical tendencies of rather a deep dye, but quite 
 harmless in their manifestations ; and this may explain 
 the delight he seemed to take sometimes in painting the 
 sufferings of the millionnaires upon that long-expected 
 day when the people should seize their rights, and 
 demand retribution, maybe, for their wrongs. He never 
 wearied of dilating upon the character of the millionnaire 
 in general, and upon the soulless husk which usually 
 represented his Plutonic individuality in Barker's 
 opinion. 
 
 " If you talk of human beings," he would begin, with 
 a wink of the eye which indicated that he knew what 
 he was about, " I pan't see how your capitalist comes in
 
 THE SHORTCOMINGS OF MILLIONAIRES 259 
 
 at all, for as far as ' human ' is concerned, it's human to 
 be kind to the oppressed and love your fellow-man ; and 
 it ain't that to cut down wages and go to Europe on the 
 proceeds, I guess ; and as far as ' being ' goes, it's some- 
 thing filled with the life of the universe and breathing it 
 out, I've heard tell ; and he certainly ain't that ; he don't 
 breathe nothing but himself and his money-bags, and he 
 wouldn't believe there was a universe, if you took him 
 out of it. So I reckon you'll have to call him something 
 all to himself, that the Lord ain't got nothing to do with, 
 and the Devil sent up from below as a specimen of the 
 lower regions. But it was awful bad policy on his part," 
 he would add, with a roll of his fat shoulders, which 
 illustrated his own enjoyment of the joke, " for if that's 
 the kind of society they have down there, I reckon we 
 don't none of us want to go. 
 
 " Millionnaires ! " he would add scornfully, " why, I 
 wouldn't change with 'em for all they're worth, not all 
 of 'em put together ! I'd rather be a poor man in 
 harmony with the univarse and lovin' my fellow-creatures, 
 than a high mucky-muck that has to have a univarse to 
 himself, and a individual moon and fixed stars for his 
 own particular use. That's the reason them fellows 
 suffers from ennui and gets blase," continued Red, with 
 a comical intonation indicative of his familiarity with 
 the millionnaire's die-a-way condition. " It must be 
 powerful monotonous thinking of nothing all day but 
 money, money, money, and dreaming of nothing all 
 night but cheat, cheat, cheat ; and I don't wonder them 
 fellers gets softening of the brain, and all sorts of high 
 diseases before they're fifty years old. There's nothing 
 that keeps a man young like circulation," Red would 
 conclude, " and the best thing is to be right in the midst 
 of mankind, where you can feel it comin' in and goin' 
 out all the time. It'll keep you fat and hearty, and I'll
 
 260 WHICH WINS 
 
 hire myself out to a dime museum against any million- 
 naire you can pick up, to prove if it ain't so ; " and Ked's 
 smile, as he made this daring proposition, would have 
 been sufficient to deter the most egotistical of mil- 
 lionnaires from acceptance of it.
 
 A DEMOCRATIC PRIMARY 261 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 A DEMOCRATIC PRIMARY 
 
 IT had been suggested to John that he could accom- 
 plish much good if he were really elected as one of the 
 body of aldermen, and that his success would be com- 
 paratively pertain if he were put upon the ticket of 
 either of the great parties, with the following the 
 people's ticket would give him. He therefore consented 
 to try for nomination upon the Democratic ticket. It 
 happened that the same primary to which John must 
 look for his support was the one greatly depended upon 
 by Ward, since he believed that the instruction of dele- 
 gates from this primary, which represented a very 
 large ward, would decide his nomination for mayor. 
 John was not very sanguine of the result in his own 
 case, but he was willing to make a trial for the sake of 
 his friends. He felt sure that the slate fixed up by 
 Ward's supporters would carry the primary, and he 
 doubted their willingness to vote for him, while he was 
 not strong enough to " pack " the primary for his own 
 purposes, provided he had been willing to make use of 
 such methods. He discovered, however, that there was 
 a scheme on foot by some opponents of Ward to seize 
 the primary and instruct for another man, who was quite 
 strong with the laboring classes, though he was not on 
 the people's ticket, and he easily made an arrangement 
 with these gentlemen by which they should pledge him 
 their support as candidate for alderman. 
 
 He felt very dubious as to the result, however. Ward was 
 an eminently safe candidate, as his " vested rights " were
 
 262 WHICH WINS 
 
 so large and varied that he was secure from the temptation 
 of "wild ideas," and certain to favor legislation pro- 
 tective of property rights, and, though not exactly " popu- 
 lar," he was one of those men of conventionally smooth 
 exterior who make few enemies. Besides, most impor- 
 tant of all, he could contribute a " bar'l " to the election 
 expenses, for Ward's wealth had assumed such propor- 
 tions, he had become so anxious for distinction aside 
 from that which money gives, that he was willing to 
 deviate from his usual habits of parsimony, and subscribe 
 liberally to the expenses of the campaign, provided he 
 received the nomination he desired. The liquor men 
 also were on his side, while the machine politicians were 
 pronounced in his favor, and John well knew that such 
 favor meant organization. 
 
 He went down to the meeting, however, though it was 
 a cold rainy evening, and Kose besought him not to go 
 out. 
 
 " We must be ready to die for our country, Eosebud," 
 he cried, laughing, as he drew on his overcoat. "I'll 
 wear my rubbers, and I sha'n't have a chance to make a 
 speech, so don't worry ! " 
 
 Kose did worry, however, and her mother noticed that 
 her eyes were full of tears, as she came back to the 
 dining-room to put away the supper. 
 
 " I reckon I'd cry over a man that ain't carin' nuthin' 
 for me no more'n a stick o' wood ! " remarked that 
 sympathetic female scathingly, as Eose wiped her eyes. 
 
 " Why, mother, how you talk ! " cried Eose indig- 
 nantly. " He cares for all of us ; he's just as kind as he 
 can be!" 
 
 " Oh, yes ! he's kind," drawled her mother. " He 
 oughter be, I reckon, when the hull family's jist a-layin' 
 tharselves out ter spile him ! When I wor a gal, it warn't 
 considered proper ter git mashed on a feller 'fore he
 
 THE IDEAL PRIMARY 263 
 
 courted ye, let alone popped the question, but thar's 
 them thinks differently nowadays," she added mean- 
 ingly. 
 
 Rose's cheeks flushed a deeper red at this thrust, but 
 she made no reply, well knowing that the only way to 
 parry her mother's cheerful remarks was with silence. 
 Her thoughts ran on about the rain, however, for Eose 
 was greatly disturbed on account of John's constant 
 neg^ct of himself, and considered that there was no 
 need of his giving up all his time to the people's ticket, 
 especially when his staying at home occasionally might 
 mean a resumption of those pleasant evening readings 
 which had been so profitable to her. Rose was not a 
 politician, and, all unconsciously to herself, John had 
 come to fill a place so large in her life, that if her care 
 for him, and even worry about him, had been taken from 
 her, there would have been little left just then to make 
 existence bearable. 
 
 " I'll stir up some muffins for breakfast anyway," she 
 concluded, wiping her eyes; "he likes those most 
 always." 
 
 Meanwhile a lively scene was transpiring at the 
 primary ; both parties having arrived at about the 
 same time, with the intention of " packing " the assem- 
 bly. Trouble was imminent, and it seemed to John that 
 such a crowd of supporters could hardly be said to have 
 the power of expressing the will of the people, though 
 they were its usual exponents in politics. There were 
 negroes of every shade, size, and quality; "Micks," 
 with the stains of labor on their hands, and the evidences 
 of " capitalized " liquor in their eyes and noses ; boys of 
 all ages, delighted at the opportunity they anticipated of 
 yelling their loudest ; and, scattered here and there 
 through the hall, John recognized some well-known 
 political bosses, and a sprinkling of legitimate voters,
 
 264 WHICH WINS 
 
 who had a right to choose delegates from the ward in 
 question. 
 
 It happened that some of the Ward party having gained 
 access to the hall first, one of their number sprang upon 
 the rostrum, and, seizing the gavel, called the meeting to 
 order, and proceeded to the election of a regular chair- 
 man. Both parties, of course, nominated their man 
 vociferously, and the temporary chairman, a bright-eyed 
 Irishman, well versed in political manoeuvres, measured 
 the hall with his eye, and took his cue correspondingly. 
 The Ward men, according to previous arrangement, were 
 gathered at the south end of the hall, the Fuller men 
 occupying the north end Fuller was the opposing 
 candidate and the chairman, seeing that the hostile 
 forces were most numerous, took his measures accord- 
 ingly. A division of the house being called for, the 
 chairman shouted the ayes and noes for the Fuller 
 champion, so that the north-end men moved over in a 
 body to vote " aye," sure of their surpassing numbers ; 
 but the Ward partisans who were thus behind the others, 
 and had some big men among them, put their shoulders 
 to their enemies' backs, and rushed to the north side 
 with such unexpected force, that they carried a very 
 decided majority of the audience with them, and before 
 the Fuller men could recover speech from indignation, 
 Ward's chairman was installed, and the battle of the 
 evening was practically over. 
 
 The list of delegates was voted in by acclamation, the 
 chairman taking no account of dissenting voices, and 
 some enthusiastic friend of Ward's, who hoped to be 
 City Attorney if he were elected, sprang upon an empty 
 seat, and harangued the crowd in praise of the successful 
 candidate. 
 
 " Fellow citizens ! " he cried, " I rise to say a word in 
 favor of our nominee, Mr. Ward. I cannot affirm that
 
 MR. WARD IN POLITICS 265 
 
 I have known him from boyhood, since his youth was 
 passed in New York and mine in Mississippi ; but I can 
 truly declare I have known him long enough to speak of 
 his deserts, and I say to you we can choose no man 
 whose name will so surely carry us to victory. His 
 course, since he came ambng us, has been that of a 
 modest and consistent business man. He has grown 
 rich in our midst, and has used his wealth for the 
 patronage of home industry, and no one can speak a 
 word against his fair fame as a man and a citizen. 
 
 " I have heard it whispered against him that he is a 
 ' silk stocking,' but, my friends, if we had more silk 
 stockings like him, our country would be better repre- 
 sented. Mr. Ward is a gentleman, it is true, a gentleman 
 by descent and inheritance, let me add, but never for a 
 moment does he forget that he is, first of all, an Amer- 
 ican citizen, and stands on a par with his brothers in 
 the rights of citizenship ! You all know his record as 
 a business man ; you do not all know his record as a man 
 of heart and generosity " (Ward had recently given a 
 thousand dollars to the Children's Home, feeling that it 
 would conduce to his popularity as a candidate, and was, 
 therefore, 'worth while'), "and if you did, the munifi- 
 cent donation he has just made to one of our most 
 worthy charities would be but the public writing on the 
 wall, indicative of the charity which fills his life, and in 
 regard to which it may be truly said, ' he does not let his 
 left hand know what his right hand doeth.' " (" No, you 
 bet he don't ! " whispered Watson to John ; " he'd be 
 ashamed ter let anything know ! ") 
 
 " Mr. Ward is not only the friend of the poor," con- 
 tinued his advocate growing warm with this last burst 
 of oratory, " he is the friend of the laboring man also, 
 and, while he is a consistent temperance man himself, as 
 you are aware, he is not one of those selfish and unfeel-
 
 266 WHICH WINS 
 
 ing fanatics who would deny the workingman his glass 
 of beer, while he takes his own champagne unhindered 
 by the restrictions of the law, or a meddlesome police- 
 man, who is always ready to ' run in ' the poor devil 
 that can't afford to patronize a high-toned bar. 
 
 " My friends, I will let y'ou into another secret in 
 regard to our nominee, which I am sure will win him 
 your enthusiastic suffrages. He has voted the straight 
 Democratic ticket ever since he dropped his first ballot. 
 [Wild cheers.] He has never scratched a man. [Wilder 
 cheers.] The success of the Democratic party has ever 
 been the ardent desire of his heart, and to it he has directed 
 his efforts enthusiastically, though he has never before 
 asked for an office. With such a man to head our ticket, 
 friends, we can march to certain victory, and I say, three 
 cheers for the Democratic party ! [enthusiastic cheering] 
 and three cheers for the man who has not scratched the 
 ticket for fourteen years ! " [Tumultuous cheering.] 
 
 The assembly having thus exhausted its enthusiasm 
 for Ward, the efforts of the aldermanic candidates were 
 in order, and as John listened to the various speeches, 
 he felt how very small were his hopes. The sentiment 
 of the meeting was so uncompromisingly democratic 
 that he realized what would be its intolerance for a name 
 which represented no vested rights whatever, no party 
 enthusiasm : nothing but ideas of social reform and of 
 freedom and equality for all men. As to the first, the 
 members of this assembly saw no need of it; for the 
 second, they had no desire. Freedom and equality for 
 all men meant the destruction of their political per- 
 quisites, and the annihilation of the special pots they 
 were trying to boil, and they would be certain, therefore, 
 to howl down any candidate who represented ideas so 
 dangerous. Several men, however, called for Thurston, 
 and at last one of his friends rose to suggest placing his
 
 JOHN AS A CANDIDATE 267 
 
 name upon the ticket. Immediately an excited individ- 
 ual sprang to his feet. 
 
 "Fellow citizens!" he exclaimed, "you ought to 
 know something about this scoundrel whom I am amazed 
 to hear any one mention for office in a Democratic 
 Primary. He's the head and front of this people's 
 ticket that's being talked around by a lot of traitors 
 who can't get any support from the regular parties, and, 
 therefore, try to gain a little notoriety by crying them 
 down. He's an anarchist, talks the most dangerous 
 sentiments on every occasion, and is putting more mis- 
 chief into the heads of the working-people than any 
 other man in town. He has no standing in the commu- 
 nity, and wants to get a little respectability by having his 
 name on a ticket made up of law-abiding citizens. But I 
 tell you he would kill the whole ticket, and his election 
 would mean a menace to the foundations of society. It 
 is disgrace enough that his name has been even men- 
 tioned at a regular Democratic Primary, and I hope we 
 shall hear no more of it. He represents a sentiment 
 that wants to be frowned down, or shot down, by respect- 
 able people everywhere, and that surely finds no parti- 
 sans here ! " And glaring about him with a glance 
 which certainly hinted at nitro-glycerine and all other 
 explosive substances, the defender of vested rights sat 
 down amid a chorus of cheers for the "Democratic 
 party forever ! " " Down with the anarchist ! " " Turn 
 the fellow out ! " and kindred yells. 
 
 Stung by the injustice of such a reception, John 
 sprang to his feet. 
 
 " Fellow citizens ! " he exclaimed, " I won't ask for your 
 nomination if you don't want to give it to me, but I 
 can't sit still and hear myself slandered in that way, 
 without saying a word in my own defence. I'm neither 
 a scoundrel nor an anarchist "
 
 268 WHICH WINS 
 
 " Turn him out," interrupted some one. 
 
 " Are you a Democrat ? " shouted what seemed a hun- 
 dred voices. 
 
 John stood still a moment in great excitement, not 
 knowing exactly what to do, and disliking to be beaten 
 out of his chance for defending himself, and at the same 
 time of saying a word which might have its effect upon 
 some mind present not too deeply rooted in party preju- 
 dice. 
 
 As he looked around upon the assembled faces, how- 
 ever, his heart failed him. They glared at him like wild 
 beasts, with reddened eyes and hard, hungry mouths. 
 They were evidently the off-scourings of machine poli- 
 tics, the creatures who never dream of the possibility of 
 independent thinking or voting, and hold their votes 
 ready to sell to the fellow who will pay most for them. 
 This time they were sold already, whipped in by the 
 political bosses, who had pledged the voters to stand for 
 certain names, and to fight down all others, without 
 regard to anything except strictly party considerations. 
 Such men were not going to listen quietly to a discus- 
 sion of equal rights and the abuses of monopoly. They 
 believed in monopoly; it cherished them and paid for 
 their whiskey, this time at least, and they would swear 
 by it to the bitter end. 
 
 John took in the situation sorrowfully. 
 
 " Are you a Democrat ? " came the hoarse cry again. 
 
 " No ! I'm not a Democrat ! I wouldn't be a Demo- 
 crat, or any other shameless thing that sells its vote 
 without a thought for freedom or the protection of free- 
 dom's rights," cried John fiercely, and sat down. 
 
 That settled it without a doubt, and with another 
 hoarse cry, indicative of its disappointment at not being 
 able to crush out of him that one reactionary expression 
 of disgust, perhaps, the crowd turned its attention to 
 other things.
 
 A MODEL ADJOURNMENT 269 
 
 John lingered, curious to see the outcome of the meet- 
 ing. The name of a well-known saloon-keeper was 
 mentioned, who kept one of the lowest dives in town. 
 He had been a member of the city council before, and 
 had voted consistently against every ordinance brought 
 up in favor of the people, and at variance with monopo- 
 listic rule. 
 
 O'Brien ! O'Brien ! " shrieked the crowd with wild 
 enthusiasm. 
 
 O'Brien, thus entreated, mounted a seat and proceeded 
 to address his constituents : 
 
 " Ye all know me, me friends, an' it's no introduction 
 we need, I'm thinkin'," he began, with a grimace which 
 brought down the house immediately, and called forth 
 sympathetic assurances of "That we do, Pat!" "Ye'd 
 know me in a blind alley, wouldn't ye, Pat ! " " Give 
 us a rouser, Pat ! " etc. 
 
 Waiting a moment until the excitement subsided 
 somewhat, Mr. O'Brien launched forth into one of those 
 orations of traditional stump eloquence which never 
 fails of its effect. 
 
 " It's me that's the boy fur the Dimmycratic party ! " 
 he cried, waving his hat in the air. "Sure, it's the party 
 I've voted fur iver since I landed in this blissid coun- 
 thry, an' many's the glass I've poured down me throat 
 that was dhry wid shoutin' the glories o' the candidates 
 that wint in on the top wave of enthusiasm for Dimmy- 
 cratic suprimacy. It's the Dimmycrats that's goin' to 
 save the counthry, me lads, an' put money in the pockets 
 av ivery mother's son av ye that lacks a nickel fur a 
 glass o' beer this blissid minnit. Sure, we all know the 
 Kepublicans is dhrivin' the counthry to ruin an' desola- 
 tion wid their high tariffs an' big pinsion bills. Sure, 
 it's me that wouldn't be deprivin' the poor sojer-boy av 
 a pinny that's his just dues from the land he bled an'
 
 270 WHICH WINS 
 
 died fur ; but sure, the rest av us is needin' pinsions, too, 
 an' it's the good old Dimmycratic party that ud be fur 
 givin' ivery wan av us a chance at the gowld that's piled 
 up in thim big vaults at Washington an' belongs to us 
 anyway jist as much as it does to the sojers, me lads, 
 an' not leavin' it all fur the rats an' the mice, that don't 
 need a pinny av it, an' ud be a sight better pleased wid 
 a slice o' fat bacon any day. Sure, I'm thinkin' ye'd 
 rather be dhrinkin' than listenin' to sich a old guzzler as 
 I be, an' I move we adjourn to Pat O'Brien's saloon, 
 where ye can all fill yersilves full o' the stuff that ivery 
 man's hungry fur, an' git it widout a pinny, an' all for 
 love o' Pat O'Brien an' the grand old Dimmycratic 
 party," and amid cheers tumultuous enough to have 
 shaken the stars from the firmament, or ushered in an 
 era of millennial felicity for the whole human race, Pat 
 sprang down from his perch and led the crowd to the 
 dive, where he dispensed the cheapest quality of whiskey 
 to the lowest description of throat, with huge profit to 
 himself and much damage to the community. 
 
 As the audience filed out into the street they passed 
 a small, pale, little lad, who stood on top of a very tall 
 barrel, and persisted in shrieking in a painfully high 
 key, " Hurrah for Thurston ! Hurrah for Thurston ! 
 Who is Thurston, any how ? " he demanded at last, evi- 
 dently realizing that he was in a very decided minority, 
 and, fearful of losing the crowd, he sprang from the 
 barrel and joined the procession headed for O'Brien's 
 saloon. 
 
 John and Watson separated themselves with difficulty 
 from their brother patriots, and saw with amusement 
 the immaculate tile of Ward bobbing up and down 
 among his constituents as they jostled him in their fear 
 of not being first at O'Brien's "treat." 
 
 "Watson," asked John with a sigh as they dropped
 
 POLITICS VERSUS DECENCY 271 
 
 into comparative solitude, " would I have had to do that, 
 if they had pledged for me ? " 
 
 "I reckon," replied Watson sententiously. "If ye'd 
 sunk low enough ter git their pledges, I reckon ye'd a 
 had ter git low enough fur Pat's dive. When a feller 
 gits on the down grade," he added, "thar's no tellin' 
 whar he'll stop, specially when folks like Ward and 
 O'Brien's a-leading of him on. Don't I wish I could be 
 thar though, an' see Ward set 'em up," he continued 
 with a chuckle ; " he'll take beer, ye kin bet on it, an' 
 try an' git the rest ter foller suit. The difference 'twixt 
 the cost o' beer an' whiskey, when ye got ter pay out 
 fur two weeks right along, is considable, an' Ward's bank 
 account'll suffer ef he do git in, considerin' the way he's 
 started out." 
 
 " But how he must hate it ! " remarked John with a 
 shudder; "Ward detests coarseness in others as thor- 
 oughly as any one I know, and what a price he will pay 
 for his popularity ! " 
 
 "Yes," grunted Watson ill-humoredly; "but he's 
 coarse enough inside to stand it. When a feller's 
 coarseness is all outside he may manage ter git inter 
 heaven 'thout much trouble, but when it's all inside an' 
 he prides hisself on his 'polished exterior,' he's got a 
 mighty slim chance accordin' ter my notion, an' the 
 angel Gabriel's pretty apt ter slam the door in his face 
 an' send him whar he'll git his varnish melted off."
 
 WHICH WINS 
 
 CHAPTER XXX 
 
 AN UNEXPECTED DISMISSAL 
 
 THE morning after the primary John went down to 
 the office with a prescience of misfortune weighing upon 
 him. He had hardly exchanged a word with Ward since 
 the evening of Katherine's unintentional revelation, but 
 he felt, nevertheless, that his former friend was deeply 
 irritated over his political career, and that his apparent 
 opposition to the successful candidate the evening before 
 had possibly snapped his patience. Sure enough, he had 
 not been at his desk very long when Ward came in, and, 
 favoring him with an exceedingly gruff good-morning, 
 asked him to step into his private office. John rose 
 with an odd feeling which was more than half humorous, 
 as he realized that this man who had robbed him of his 
 entire means of support was about to put the climax to 
 his own meanness and the moral absurdity of the situa- 
 tion, by dismissing him for a political difference of 
 opinion. 
 
 John's characteristic generosity rather deserted him 
 at this juncture, moreover, and he waited for his old 
 friend to speak with some curiosity as to how he would 
 introduce the subject, and determined to give him no aid 
 in approaching it. There was no hesitancy on Ward's 
 part, however. He was too full of rage at John's atti- 
 tude at the meeting of the preceding night to remember 
 anything else. It would have been bad enough if any 
 employe had dared to take an interest in politics on the 
 side opposed to his own, but that John should do it, and
 
 THE EIGHTS OF AN INFERIOR 273 
 
 actually think of standing on the contesting ticket, was 
 doubly unpardonable, for Ward had so habituated him- 
 self to look upon his equal of other days as a dependent 
 inferior of late, that he could no longer conceive of his 
 having filled any different relation toward him. 
 
 " Thurston," he said, "I think you went a little too 
 far in your political enthusiasm last night. I won't 
 keep a man in my employ who absolutely opposes me in 
 my political career, and speaks insultingly in a public 
 place of the party I choose to represent. So I prefer to 
 dissolve our business connection." 
 
 John bit his lip for an instant. Ward's words, and 
 especially his manner, were hard to swallow. But he 
 controlled himself and said even pleasantly, " I expected 
 this, Ward, and bear you no ill-will, I assure you." 
 
 " Ill-will," replied Ward coolly ; " humph ! I don't see 
 why you should, I'm sure. I've kept you longer than 
 most men would under the circumstances, and you'll be 
 paid your wages in full." 
 
 " Ward ! " cried John, for this was a little too much, 
 "you forget whom you're talking to : you have no right 
 to speak to me in that tone." 
 
 "Well, I don't think I can be mistaken in your iden- 
 tity, Parsifal," exclaimed the other, laughing disagree- 
 ably ; " there's not such another crank as you in town. 
 I suppose you would take everything I could do to you 
 without losing patience, however, as a part of the quest 
 after the wonderful Grail you are to find somewhere to 
 repay you for all these earthly sufferings and privations. 
 I remember you said once you never would be happy 
 until you were reduced to the condition of the poorest 
 beggar in the land, and so I suppose I am really doing 
 you a kindness by helping to put you there." 
 
 John's cheeks flushed. "Ward," he said slowly, "I 
 never expected to have you throw those careless words
 
 274 WHICH WINS 
 
 back to me in that way, but I deserve them for having 
 been mean-spirited enough to stay in your employ so 
 long. I have known for several weeks that you bought 
 the mortgage on my farm, and turned us out with my 
 mother in her death agony, and with that knowledge I 
 have stayed on in your employ because I had not force 
 enough to leave it. Nothing you can say to me can be 
 half so severe as my own reproaches, so do not hesitate 
 to speak freely." 
 
 Ward grew white to the lips as he heard John's con- 
 fession. He had never dreamed of the possibility of 
 discovery in his treachery, he had planned his operations 
 so cleverly. 
 
 " How did you find that out ? " he cried in a rage. 
 " You are a spy ; you are like all the rest of your sanc- 
 timonious, sneaking kind. That is of a piece with your 
 gambling in Berlin ; you have spied upon me to good 
 purpose, and now you will take huge delight in speechi- 
 fying over my shortcomings, and making capital for 
 your ridiculous people's ticket ! " 
 
 Ward stopped suddenly because he was so furious that 
 the words he wished to utter stuck in his throat, and he 
 sat angrily tearing to bits the papers on the desk before 
 him. 
 
 "I have not spied upon you at all, Ward," replied 
 John, smothering his contempt as best he could, and 
 looking around as he spoke, conscious that Watson had 
 opened the door and closed it again. " I found the matter 
 out by the purest accident. I can't say that I forgive 
 you for it, bitter as it is to me, and I should not have 
 stayed here knowing it, and saying nothing to you about 
 it. But rest assured," he added, "I shall never make 
 any use of the knowledge. I'm not the man to put my 
 personal misfortunes into a political campaign, and I 
 suppose it is a little small of me even to mention the
 
 WARD TAKES THE FINAL STEP 275 
 
 affair, under the circumstances ; but you shouldn't have 
 gone on abusing me." 
 
 Ward's color had changed from white to red and back 
 again to white several times while John spoke, and, as 
 he concluded, he took up a pen to write a check, pressing 
 his lips firmly together as he did so. " This interview 
 had better end as soon as possible," he said, handing him 
 the check ; (i it is very disagreeable to me." 
 
 " And to me also," answered John. " I want you to 
 understand, Ward," he added, as he folded the check 
 and put it in his pocket, " that I take this money you 
 proffer so insultingly as a very small portion of what 
 you owe me. I consider that you have robbed me of my 
 fortune as wickedly and dishonestly as if you had taken 
 my purse from my pocket ; but I'm free to say I would 
 rather be myself than you in the transaction." 
 
 Ward turned his back to his former friend with a 
 muttered oath, and John, pausing to take some little 
 belongings from his desk, left the office. Watson joined 
 him at the door with a countenance so angry that John 
 looked at him in astonishment. 
 
 " Mr. Thurston ! " he cried, " wot kind of a man be ye 
 anyhow ? That scoundrel took yer farm an' ye not 
 shootin' the gizzard out'n him ? wot ye made on, I'd like 
 ter know ? " 
 
 " Did you hear that, Watson ? " exclaimed John in 
 surprise. " Don't say anything about it, I beg of you," 
 and finding that Watson's wrath could not abate, he told 
 him how he had discovered Ward's treacherous conduct. 
 
 "I was as angry as you are when I found it out, 
 Watson," he added ; " but some way it doesn't seem 
 worth while to stay hot over things we can't help in this 
 world, and, though I bear Ward considerable of a grudge, 
 I'm afraid I shouldn't care to shoot the gizzard out of 
 him."
 
 276 WHICH WINS 
 
 " It's lucky ye kin look at it that way," said Watson 
 wrathfully ; " but ef he comes in my direction, I'll show 
 him a thing or two that'll let some light inter that black 
 head o' hisn," and Watson doubled up his fists in a 
 fashion that boded no good to Ward. 
 
 Meanwhile that gentleman was in far from a happy 
 frame of mind. It is not pleasant to be a knave, and 
 realize that people are aware of one's treachery, espe- 
 cially when one's manner to the enlightened party has 
 always been full of a consciousness of beneficent and 
 rather ill-deserved patronage. Ward had pleased himself 
 with thinking of John as a harmless incapable, who, 
 without his protecting care, would have been thrown 
 helpless upon an unfeeling world ; and to have a mirror 
 suddenly held up before him in which he saw himself 
 in his true character as guilty of unpardonable treachery 
 toward a generous and trusting friend, was more than he 
 could bear. He had never before been painted to his 
 own consciousness in such glaring colors, and he felt as 
 though his soul were scorching to ashes under his own 
 eyes. Presently, however, habit began to resume its 
 sway, and the motives and standards which were his 
 daily guides made themselves heard once more. 
 
 " It was merely a business transaction all around," he 
 said to himself, looking uneasily out of the window, 
 where a cat sat sunning herself on the roof ; " Thurston 
 must always put on such high tragedy airs about every- 
 thing ! As if I hadn't a right to dismiss a clerk who is 
 disagreeable to me," he added after a while, placing him- 
 self before the fireplace in his characteristic attitude ; 
 "Thurston has been making unpleasantly personal re- 
 marks for some time, and I ought to have gotton rid of 
 him before," his reflections went on. " He always thought 
 he knew a little more than any other fellow, and he's 
 put enough of his cursed nonsense into Katherine's
 
 AN IGNORANT SELF-COMPLACENCE 277 
 
 head to ruin my life ; " and Ward fell into a mood of 
 self-pity which was rather absurd, considering the amount 
 of suffering which had so far fallen to his lot in the 
 world. 
 
 " After all, Thurston would have been sold out whether 
 I bought his mortgage or not," he reflected, stroking his 
 long black mustache ; " and I don't know as there is 
 any thing particularly bad in my having the advantage 
 of it. Parsifal could never keep a penny anyway, and 
 he may thank his stars that I have saved him from 
 beggary till now." 
 
 But underneath all Ward's reflections was the unac- 
 knowledged conviction coming more and more comfort- 
 ingly to the surface, that John would never tell, that the 
 secret of his duplicity was safe, and that in the eyes of 
 the world Stephen Ward, capitalist and candidate for 
 mayor, was as honorable a man as if he never had violated 
 the confidence of a friend, nor abused the sacred trust of 
 the inexperienced girl he had married. That conviction 
 rapidly repaired the lacerations of his outraged vanity, 
 and by the time his head clerk came in with the noon 
 mail, and a deferential jest at his diligence so near 
 election day, Ward was himself again, and had quite 
 forgotten that any one could hesitate at changing places 
 with him.
 
 278 WHICH WINS 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI 
 
 A WEDDING IN THE WATSON FAMILY 
 
 THE great event of the season in the Watson family 
 was, of course, Maggie's marriage. Not that it was a 
 brilliant affair ; on the contrary, the young couple were 
 very sensible. Katheriue herself insisted on providing 
 the wedding-dress, a pretty white nun's veiling, and 
 came in person to see that it was put on properly ; but 
 aside from Katherine and a few of Felix's relatives, 
 there were no invited guests. There was a collation, 
 however, upon which Eose displayed all her skill, and 
 at which finger bowls actually appeared, since Katherine, 
 knowing Kose's weakness, loaned some of her best for 
 the occasion. Flowers were seen in abundance also, for 
 John had provided what Maggie considered an extrava- 
 gant quantity, and Felix's brother, a young printer, who 
 acknowledged a frank admiration of Maggie, sent in a 
 box at the last minute, so that really, as Eose said, the 
 flower part of the wedding was " awfully swell." 
 
 The young Episcopal clergyman who performed the 
 ceremony, and whose acquaintance Eose had made 
 through certain Sunday-school proclivities which she 
 indulged in, though they were severely frowned upon 
 by the more strong-minded members of the family, was 
 rather surprised by the evidences of refinement he saw 
 about him in a home of such humble pretensions. They 
 were evidences of rather a mixed character, to be sure, 
 for Karl Marx, and Shelley lay upon the parlor table 
 side by side with a volume of the poet Herbert, which
 
 SOME CLERICAL CRITICISM 279 
 
 the young clergyman assured Rose was excellent read- 
 ing. 
 
 " I like him," said Rose, " and so does Mr. Thurston ; 
 but father and Maggie can't see anything in him. 
 Maggie likes Shelley better than any one. She says he 
 was more of an anarchist than Karl Marx." 
 
 "And is that her reason for liking him ?" asked the 
 Rev. Mr. Brown, with a shocked expression which 
 amused Rose exceedingly ; for in spite of her simplicity, 
 and the predilection for cooking which Maggie scorned, 
 Rose was far from being a fool, and could not very well 
 help having opinions upon social reform, in the atmos- 
 phere she breathed. 
 
 " Well, I think that has a good deal to do with it," 
 she replied, laughing; "she says she ain't no use for 
 Tennyson sence he turned a lord ; she thinks poet ought 
 a ben good enough for him." 
 
 "Why, he simply accepted the distinction due his 
 genius," returned the young minister seriously. " Isn't 
 it a little narrow to object to that ? Must we all avoid 
 public recognition of our merits, to suit your sister's 
 ideas of social reform ? " 
 
 "But it seems rather a small thing to be a lord, after 
 having been such a great poet, doesn't it ? " asked Rose 
 somewhat puzzled. At that moment one of her younger 
 sisters came to whisper that Maggie was ready for the 
 ceremony, and, glad of an excuse to end the conversation, 
 in which she had not felt exactly at ease, Rose hurried 
 off to attend the ushering-in of the bride. 
 
 Rose had profited much by her lessons at night school 
 and John's assistance at home, and she was growing very 
 sensitive about her English, and anxious to drop the 
 vernacular in which she had been born and bred as 
 thoroughly as Maggie had done. People like Mr. Brown 
 always made her conscious of her defects, and brought
 
 280 WHICH WINS 
 
 the vernacular uppermost in the conversation as it 
 usually was in her thoughts. While if she talked with 
 Katherine or young Craig, her English was often beyond 
 reproach. 
 
 Maggie looked very pretty as she stood before the 
 little fireplace on the arm of her proud young husband, 
 and Katherine was led into many reflections upon the 
 real value of hereditary traits in a country where so 
 much tends to do away with them, while she looked at 
 their happy faces. As the ceremony ended, and the 
 clergyman wished them joy in their union, he could 
 not avoid speaking with unusual warmth, the bond he 
 had just united was so evidently one of hearts as 
 well as hands. A little later they all stood around 
 the table where the simple wedding-feast was daintily 
 spread, and the clergyman wondered again as he reflected 
 that the father of the bride was a hard-working man, 
 the husband a carpenter, and all present, he feared, were 
 socialists of a rather deep-dyed type ; at least, the books 
 he had seen, and the tenor of many remarks he had 
 heard, led him to that conclusion. 
 
 He stood lost in such reflections, and contemplating a 
 large slice of frosted cake, which represented the acme 
 of Rose's art, and was a grand success, as she was joy- 
 fully thinking, when some one asked him a question. 
 
 " Have you heard of our people's ticket, Mr. Brown ? " 
 said young Craig, the brother of the groom. 
 
 " Of what ? " replied the clergyman in surprise. " I 
 don't think I understand you." 
 
 " Of our people's ticket," continued the young man. 
 " You know the Labor Union men have put a ticket into 
 the field this spring, which they think will carry the 
 city against both Democrats and Republicans " 
 
 " Oh, hold on now we don't quite expect to do 
 that ! " interrupted his brother warningly.
 
 A REPUBLICAN CLERGYMAN 281 
 
 "But you don't know what we'll do; we're painting 
 the town red anyhow. Has it made any impression on 
 your congregation, Mr. Brown ? " continued the ques- 
 tioner, rather mischievously. 
 
 "I believe I have heard of it," replied Mr. Brown 
 with some stiffness ; " but I am not much interested in 
 politics, you know ; my work lies in another direction." 
 
 " But, Mr. Brown," said John, who had listened to the 
 conversation with some interest, "this is not exactly 
 politics, you see, it is rather an effort for pure govern- 
 ment, and, as such, I should think it ought to claim the 
 interest of the clergy especially." 
 
 " Yes ? " interrogated Mr. Brown ; " but I am a Repub- 
 lican, as my father was before me, and I have not yet 
 seen any reason for changing my politics. I don't think 
 it well, either, to bring politics into the pulpit. I should 
 offend many of my parishioners, you know, and thus 
 lose all chance of benefiting them, and my first work is, 
 of course, that of saving souls." 
 
 " But do you think in these days a man ought to be a 
 Eepublican because his father was one before him ? " 
 asked John courteously. 
 
 The minister flushed a little. " I do not consider 
 politics my business," he said a trifle brusquely, "and 
 really the country is governed about the same by either 
 party. The difference is not much more than a name, 
 anyway, it seems to me." 
 
 " There you are undoubtedly right," said John ; " but 
 did it never occur to you that the country could be 
 governed a great deal better than it is by either 
 party ? " 
 
 " No," replied Mr. Brown with some uneasiness. 
 " I'm not much of a radical, Mr. Thurston, and am 
 greatly inclined to take things as they are." 
 
 " But you are a Christian, and an earnest one, I
 
 282 WHICH WINS 
 
 think," responded John with some eagerness, "and are 
 therefore concerned in the spiritual development of the 
 whole people." ' 
 
 "Of course," replied the young clergyman; "but I 
 don't see what that has to do with the Republican 
 party." 
 
 "Everything," said John earnestly. "Do you like 
 the flavor of this cake ? " he added, pointing to the 
 crumbs upon Mr. Brown's plate, which alone remained 
 to testify to his relish of the large slice he had eaten. 
 
 " Indeed I do," replied the clergyman, with more 
 decision than he had shown upon any topic before men- 
 tioned; "and as I understand that Miss Eose is its 
 baker, I should like to eat another slice in her honor." 
 
 " You certainly shall have the privilege," cried John, 
 laughing, as he seized a passing plate of cake; " and now 
 do you think you could have succeeded as well as Eose, 
 with the same ingredients to work with, and turned out 
 an equally delicious compound ? " 
 
 " I ! " exclaimed the clergyman, " why, I never made 
 a bit of cake in my life ! I never thought of such a 
 thing ! " 
 
 "Exactly," said John smiling; "so I say that the 
 Democratic and Eepublican parties have never thought 
 of the problem they are supposed to be solving. They 
 hold in their hands the government of the people, and 
 it has never occurred to them apparently that governing 
 the people does not mean filling the offices, distributing 
 the patronage, and spending the money of the people ; 
 but it does mean developing our resources to their 
 highest point, taking every trammel from the growth of 
 our civilization, putting our lands in the hands of the 
 nation do you think it ever has ? " he asked, stopping 
 himself hastily with a feeling that he was giving his 
 clerical vis-a-vis an unnecessary shock.
 
 SOME POLITICAL MORALITY 283 
 
 " But I don't see what all this has to do with spiritual 
 development," remarked Mr. Brown with a superior 
 air. 
 
 "It seems to me you will, if you think of it a 
 moment," responded John, feeling that he must be on 
 his guard and not speak too earnestly to this careful and 
 conservative young ecclesiastic. "One's spiritual de- 
 velopment must stand on a very material foundation. 
 You do not find St. Cecilias upon the cannibal islands ; 
 you see them springing from races which have reached 
 the highest pitch of social development and aesthetic 
 refinement ; and it seems to me natural, therefore, that 
 the more widespread you make comfort and ease of 
 living, the broader you will lay the substructure for a 
 development of spirituality." 
 
 " I can't agree with you, really, Mr. Thurston," replied 
 the clergyman with considerable sharpness. " The 
 Lord touches the hearts of whom he pleases, and his 
 choosing is not guided by the material prosperity of any 
 class. All men are alike in the eyes of the Lord," he 
 added with a saintly air. " He would be the last to 
 favor the well-to-do in spiritual things." 
 
 "You don't understand me, Mr. Brown," said John 
 with a hopeless feeling. "I should be very far from 
 imputing such narrow-mindedness to the All-father, but 
 surely as you make culture and refinement more general, 
 you lift the masses to a point where comprehension of 
 the Over-soul, and all which that implies, becomes 
 possible." 
 
 " I think differences of outward condition are a part 
 of our life here, Mr. Thurston," said the minister, still 
 more coldly, " and God never intended them to be 
 abolished. I should not care to take part in any organi- 
 zation for that purpose. Miss Rose ! " he cried, detaining 
 the young woman pointedly as she came by, " let me
 
 284 WHICH WINS 
 
 congratulate you once more upon your cake ; the second 
 piece was better than the first." 
 
 John bit his lip and muttered something not exactly 
 complimentary about ministerial obtuseness, but turning 
 suddenly he caught Katherine's eye. He had not seen 
 her since that memorable evening of her revelations, 
 and the handclasp they had exchanged a few moments 
 before had been the first expression of sympathy they 
 had been able to give each other. John had thought of 
 her often with deep pity for her condition, and longing 
 for her companionship, but he had felt it impossible to 
 seek her under the circumstances. Moreover, his rela- 
 tionship with her had been always so largely ideal 
 and imaginary, that he had grown accustomed to a 
 thought communion which he took it for granted was 
 mutual, and did not so much need an opportunity 
 for explanation and confidence, the lack of which had 
 been keenly felt by Katherine, without acknowledging 
 it to herself. She had wondered why John did not send 
 her some manifestation of his continued interest and 
 friendship, and in her forlorn and friendless situation 
 the entire cessation of his visits had been a real loss. 
 
 Therefore she looked forward eagerly to Maggie's 
 wedding, and the chat they would be sure to have, 
 which would quiet some doubts and queries. They 
 were unrecognized, but still occasionally announced 
 their presence in her consciousness. Did he understand 
 her mood the other night, and forgive the confidences 
 regarding her husband into which she had dropped, or 
 did he condemn her for them, and consider her false 
 and indelicate ? Such questions tortured Katherine, in 
 spite of her knowledge of Parsifal's character, and added 
 to them was the never-ceasing wonder as to the cause of 
 the excitement in which he had left her, and which she 
 could not but connect in some way with her husband's
 
 A CLASP OF THE HAND 285 
 
 irritated feeling against John. As he sat down beside 
 her, she extended her hand once more, while her eyes 
 rilled with tears. 
 
 "You don't know how good it seems to see you 
 again," she said simply ; " it is so long since you were 
 at the house, and so many unfortunate things have 
 occurred since then." 
 
 " Don't let us think of them now," John said, looking 
 so happy and at rest that Katherine had not the heart to 
 suggest any disturbing thought. 
 
 " You have not found a position yet," she said with 
 some hesitation. 
 
 "No," he answered quickly; "but I cannot tell you 
 how happy I am to get out of that broker's office. It 
 has been a weight off of my shoulders. After next 
 week, when the election is over, I shall look about me." 
 
 " What a pleasant wedding this is ! " said Katherine, 
 observing the happy faces, and realizing suddenly that 
 the world is not a wearisome place, if one can but find a 
 corner of it filled with the sweetness of friendship and 
 kind thoughts. 
 
 " Ah, yes, it is pleasant," replied John with a little 
 sigh, " and the bride and groom have much happiness in 
 store for them, I think." 
 
 "It is one of the marriages made in heaven, is it 
 not ? " cried Katherine with something like a tremble 
 in her voice. " There are such marriages, Parsifal, but 
 it seems difficult to realize it sometimes." 
 
 John's eyes rested sympathetically on the sweet face 
 beside him for a moment, and during that moment he 
 seemed to see, as in a vision, the future which might 
 have been, if another marriage, which surely would have 
 been made in heaven, could have come about. Was 
 there any provision in another existence for the cement- 
 ing of those unions which might have grown so fruitful
 
 286 WHICH WINS 
 
 of good in this ? he thought. His heart leaped at the 
 suggestion, and touching Katherine's white fingers, as 
 though his hand dared not close over them, he said, 
 
 " Perhaps, after all, the outward union is not every- 
 thing, Katherine; there may be more real satisfaction 
 in the union of interest, sympathy, and friendship than 
 in many marriages." 
 
 John's eyes sought Katherine's as he spoke, forgetting 
 for an instant what he was always so careful to remem- 
 ber, that she was Ward's wife, and in the glance she 
 returned him, it seemed that she also had forgotten the 
 fact, so that for a single moment perhaps in a lifetime 
 they were free and belonged to each other. They sat 
 thus silent for a time, withheld from conversation per- 
 haps by a subtle fear of saying something which might 
 remind them of their bonds, and destroy the odd, unreal 
 happiness they felt, which must have such a very short 
 duration at best. 
 
 " Parsifal," said Katherine after a while, as Kose came 
 to her with a cup of tea, " you will be surprised when I 
 tell you what I have done. I have written a song for 
 your people's movement, and I want to go to that big 
 meeting advertised to-morrow night, and sing it." 
 
 " Why, that would be magnificent ! " cried John with 
 great delight, "but what would Ward think of such a 
 performance as that? Besides, it would get into the 
 papers. I am afraid it would never do. You would 
 have trouble about it," he added doubtfully. 
 
 " Yes," replied Katherine, " I shall do it. Kose will 
 go with me, and no one will recognize me. I shall wear 
 an old dress, and appear as an obscure musical crank, for 
 whose idiosyncrasies no one is responsible. But I want 
 to sing it myself. You can simply announce that a lady 
 musician, who has written the song, wishes to sing it, 
 and I shall remain entirely unsuspected."
 
 KATHERINE GROWS DARING 287 
 
 John's doubts as to the wisdom of the performance 
 were decided, but finding Eose emphatic in Katherine's 
 favor, and himself in an insignificant minority, he yielded 
 to such pleasant insistence, and the arrangement was 
 made. 
 
 Meanwhile the bride and groom were saying good- 
 night. They were going to spend the next day at some 
 springs in the neighborhood ; and though their wedding- 
 trip was short, it should be glorious, Maggie said, and 
 not marred by the -inadequacies of any second-class 
 hotel. So the rice and slippers were thrown after them, 
 and John had the felicity of walking home with Kath- 
 erine, for she had not ordered the carriage. 
 
 Was it not delightful, that walk through the quiet 
 streets in the moonlight ! John thought of those nights 
 in former years on the prairie, and the face which always 
 peeped from the fleecy clouds with my lady moon. 
 Which was nearer, he thought, as he glanced down at the 
 beautiful countenance beside him, this face, or that ? 
 And which is more melancholy, the dream which flies 
 ever before one, with no suggestion of reality, or the 
 realization which leaves unfulfilled the most longed-for 
 element of our fancy ?
 
 288 WHICH WINS 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII 
 
 A LABOR UNION MEETING 
 
 IT was a cold, rainy evening when Katherine, Kose, and 
 John started for the Labor Union meeting. It was a 
 mass meeting, held in one of the large halls of the town, 
 and it promised to be unusually well attended in spite of 
 the rain, owing to the interest felt in the people's ticket. 
 Katherine experienced with deep pleasure the sensation of 
 being one of a throng of men and women united by 
 strong purpose and warm enthusiasm. It was the first 
 time she had ever breathed such an atmosphere, and she 
 felt its tonic. The meeting was far from being a fash- 
 ionable assembly. Many of those present were workers 
 in one way or another, all of them had suffered from the 
 inequalities of fortune, and showed the traces of that 
 suffering in their thoughtful eyes and compressed lips. 
 As Katherine cast her eyes over the sea of faces, she was 
 almost startled by the intensity mirrored there, and it 
 seemed as her gaze passed from face to face as though 
 she could read the life histories which had brought 
 them finally to this meeting, and the determination 
 which lay behind it. 
 
 The assembly had been called to order, and the list of 
 speakers read, before John's party entered the hall, and 
 the audience was already on the qui vive for the treat in 
 preparation. Upon one side of the wall hung a huge 
 placard apparently just printed, upon which appeared 
 the words, " Land products are lower than they have 
 been in a hundred years the globe over. Debts are
 
 A SUGGESTIVE FUNERAL 289 
 
 greater than they have been in a hundred years the 
 globe over. Money is higher than it has been in a hun- 
 dred years the globe over, and each of these statements 
 is true of our country. The effect of these conditions 
 upon the country and upon individuals is ruin. The 
 remedy lies with the people." 
 
 Many eyes besides Katherine's sought the placard and 
 pondered its statements, and presently, after various for- 
 malities had been gone through with, cries for the speak- 
 ers began to be heard. As she looked over the assembly 
 Katherine fancied she could identify the men who burned 
 most eagerly for an opportunity to voice their sentiments, 
 and she watched with deep interest the countenances of 
 the leading men in the movement whom John pointed 
 out to her. 
 
 There were cries for " Thurston ! " " Barker ! " and 
 several others, but the voices finally joined in a general 
 yell for " Burnham ! " and a painfully homely man with 
 a curious shambling gait and wonderfully bright eyes 
 came forward. He stood smiling at the assembly for a 
 moment, and Katherine could not but notice the full lips 
 of his decidedly Kabelaisian mouth, which, in contrast 
 with his remarkable eyes, formed a striking physiognomy. 
 
 " I ain't anyways in a hurry, ye see," he began still 
 smiling after a moment ; " I know ye're waitin' on me." 
 
 The expression with which he spoke was so absurd 
 that the audience broke into a laugh immediately, and 
 this seemed to be the inspiration for which the orator 
 had waited. Without hesitating a moment longer, he 
 launched into a discourse, the equal of which Katherine 
 had never heard for many qualities lacking frequently 
 in more profound and intellectual orations. There was 
 a warmth sometimes descending to coarseness in the 
 speaker's language, but the audience roared with laughter, 
 or hung breathless upon his lips, by turns, as he painted
 
 290 WHICH WINS 
 
 some pathetic incident, or drew in vivid terms the con- 
 trasts and striking inconsistencies of what he named " our 
 truthless times." The peroration with which he finished 
 brought down the house. 
 
 " My friends," he said, "I ain't exactly murderous in 
 my tastes, but I want to go to a funeral. 'Tain't that I 
 enjoy funerals, for I will confess there's some things I'd 
 rather do than go to a funeral, but this funeral has a 
 peculiar interest. We all want to be there, and we'd do 
 the mourning in great shape, set out a collation an' have 
 a wake that ud raise the dead most anywheres, I reckon. 
 This funeral I'm talkin' about is the obsequies of a 
 monstrosity that's been troublin' the country a good 
 many years. It's a two-headed monstrosity that done 
 some good in its day, but that's entirely wore out, ain't 
 got a tooth in its old jaws, an' goes round a-mumblin' an' 
 a-mawin' 'bout things that don't concern no one but old 
 women a-settin' in the corners, an' scarecrows a-grinnin' 
 in the fields. One side o' this here old fraud wears a 
 bloody shirt, an' t'other is rigged out in a English flag, 
 an' the hull combination's called the Democratic-Repub- 
 lican party, an', my friends, it's deader than a door-nail. 
 I'm tired seein' it layin' round corruptin' the atmosphere, 
 an' I want to be one o' the fellers to bury it. I tell ye, 
 boys, I'd like to dig a big hole an' put it in deep, an' 
 the way to do would be to bury it face downwards, with 
 its paws out, so it won't have no trouble a-grubbin' its 
 way to the place where it belongs." 
 
 The laughter over Burnham's speech had scarcely sub- 
 sided before another man was on his feet, and it was 
 evident immediately to which side he belonged. 
 
 " Ladies and gentlemen, brothers and sisters in our 
 great cause," he began in a deep, mellow voice with a 
 solemn ring to it, which made one feel as if the end 
 of all things were coming ; " I appreciate the humor of
 
 A DANGEROUS ORATOR 291 
 
 brother Burnham's remarks as much as any one present, 
 but I nevertheless feel impelled to recall to you that 
 this is no time for laughter. There are burning questions 
 before us, as you may be reminded by reading the pla- 
 card on the wall over yonder, and they are questions that 
 demand an immediate solution. We cannot wait to" 
 ponder our answer very long, my friends, for while we 
 wait, we are being enslaved. You can hardly take up a 
 newspaper without reading of the organization of new 
 trusts. Syndicates are forming every day which render 
 honest labor and personal enterprise impossible. There 
 are twenty billions of foreign capital in the country upon 
 which the people must pay interest with the sweat of 
 their brows bloody sweat sometimes and it is in- 
 creasing every day. It is no longer possible for the 
 laborer to own his spot of ground, and his cottage, nor 
 to go west upon a farm of Uncle Sam's, providing, when 
 driven from the cities by the press of injurious competi- 
 tion ; for the greed of the land-grabbers and monopolists 
 has made free land a thing of the past so idyllic in com- 
 parison with the present, that its recollection already 
 seems a vestige of Arcadia or fairy-land. 
 
 "The cry of the oppressed goes up to heaven from 
 every side, and will you listen to it ? Will you stretch 
 out a helping hand to succor those who are lying crushed 
 under the iron heel of monopoly ? I would like to paint 
 to you the fate of the toilers, the slaves whose every 
 moment snatched from sleep and food is seized by the 
 greedy money power and turned to its own aggrandize- 
 ment. I would like to make you see their sordid lives, 
 maimed and dwarfed from the moment they breathe, by 
 the curse of poverty ; the children forced half-clad into 
 the streets when scarcely more than babes, to earn that 
 which will keep them from being the prey of death, the 
 young men and women sinking into crime, because they
 
 292 WHICH WINS 
 
 weary of the struggle for a mere existence, a struggle 
 endless and hopeless. I would paint you the entire 
 human being, treated from the beginning as though life 
 were a crime to all those who do not meet it with money, 
 to all those whom circumstance, accident, has not sur- 
 rounded by the glamour which the possession of lucre 
 gives, lucre, that magic thing, soul-dwarfing to those who 
 have it as to those who long for it in agony. 
 
 " I would like to take you over to Argentine, my 
 friends, and introduce you to the Smelter, where you 
 may see men working twelve hours a day, seven days in 
 the week, for the accumulation of millions in which 
 they can have no share, to provide others with the 
 means to purchase knowledge, luxury, refinement, from 
 which they are debarred by no decree of God, but by the 
 successful robbery of man ! 
 
 " I would like to take you to the coal-mines, of which 
 you have heard so much recently, and sjiow you men in 
 the bowels of the earth, deprived forever of God's sun- 
 shine, and suffering the torture of galley-slaves : for 
 what ? To earn a pittance which does not provide their 
 families with the necessaries of life. 
 
 " I tell you, friends, if you do not lift your hands, if 
 you do not take measures which will be efficacious to 
 bring a different set of conditions into the world, the 
 oppressed will rise ; they will not bear their slavery much 
 longer ; their endurance has reached its limit ; and if 
 the money power stubbornly refuses to make conces- 
 sions, stubbornly continues to claim the world as its 
 own, and denies the rightful owners, the producers, more 
 than that subsistence of crusts which does not even fill 
 their famished stomachs, I tell you, friends, your streets 
 will suddenly run with gore, you will wade in blood to 
 your knees, the world will be bathed in it, and what will 
 it be ? It will be blue blood, the blood of capitalists, of
 
 A SUFFERER FROM MONOPOLY 293 
 
 money kings, and it will so enrich the world that a race 
 of giants will spring from soil thus saturated with 
 retribution." 
 
 Katherine shuddered as she listened to these wild 
 words. She had never heard such talk before, and she 
 found it very shocking. She had no love for capitalists, 
 but she did not dream of hearing them denounced in 
 such incendiary fashion, and she looked at John, expect- 
 ing that he would rise and say something to destroy the 
 effect of this inflammatory speech. John sat quietly by 
 her side, however, giving no evidence of excitement, and 
 no demonstration followed the speaker's remarks except 
 the earnest murmurs of approbation which ran around 
 the audience at some of his statements, and the hearty 
 applause which followed his conclusion. 
 
 Katherine had been interested in the attitude of a 
 young man who sat beside her, and who had followed 
 the remarks of the last speaker with much excitement. 
 His cheeks flushed at the orator's recital of the wrongs 
 of the workingman, and he clinched his hands at his 
 mention of the sufferings of children. 
 
 " I work in the Smelter," he said, nodding to her as 
 the orator finished. " I know all about that." 
 
 "Why don't you say something ? " whispered Kather- 
 ine sympathetically. " Tell them your experience. I am 
 sure it would do good." 
 
 "I ain't had much experence," he replied doggedly, 
 "not more'n lots of others. I knows a mighty nice girl, 
 an' I'd like ter git married, that's all ; but I ain't a-goin' 
 to marry an' bring children into the world to be tramps ; 
 they's too many o' them here now," he added with a 
 melancholy shake of his head. 
 
 Katherine was conscious that some one else was speak- 
 ing, and turned away, anxious not to lose a word of this 
 teaching which was so novel, and she felt sure so true.
 
 294 WHICH WINS 
 
 The subject under discussion now was land monopoly 
 and the evils of speculation in real estate. The land 
 should belong to the State, the speaker said, and he 
 went into a discussion of rents and land values which 
 Katherine was not quite enough of an economist to 
 follow, but from which she drew at least a keen concep- 
 tion of the miseries of the farming population, and the 
 wickedness of making " corners " in land. 
 
 Then a thin, delicate-looking man rose. He said he 
 was a "hireling," who was supposed to have no right to 
 ideas ; but he had them, nevertheless, and he wanted to 
 supplement his friend's remarks, and show to what an ex- 
 tent the railroads of the country are monopolists, and 
 how they draw interest on nine billions of watered stock 
 from the necessities of the people. The speaker was so 
 impassioned, his pale face and deep eyes made such an 
 impression of intense feeling upon Katherine, that she 
 wondered the audience was not more stirred at his words. 
 
 " I should think they would rise in a body, go to the 
 railroad offices and tear them down, or take possession 
 and run them for the people. That would be best," 
 she whispered excitedly to John ; " why do they listen 
 so coolly ? " 
 
 John smiled at her fervor. "They know it all," he 
 said; "they have heard it many times, and they are 
 preparing to act upon it. Our people's ticket is a small 
 thing, Katherine, but it is significant of a great deal. It 
 shows that a feeling is abroad in the land which will 
 come to the surface so strongly before long that it will 
 sweep these abuses from the face of the earth, and do it 
 without the blood our friend was speaking of. We'll do 
 it in time," he added with a little deepening of the flush 
 upon his cheeks ; " it can't be staved off much longer." 
 
 At that moment the pale young man beside Katherine 
 rose to his feet, and began speaking. " I can't make a
 
 THE HEART BEATS UNDER BLUE JEANS 295 
 
 speech," he said. "I ain't never ben to one o' these 
 meetin's before, but I've read a good many books, an' I 
 heard o' this people's ticket, an' I thought I'd like to 
 come round an' see wot ye've got to say. Ye can't none 
 on ye tell wot I ain't ben through in this world, I guess, 
 an' I reckon I've more hard knocks yet before I'm done ; 
 but I jist want to say that anything I kin do to help on 
 this here thing, I'm in fur, an' ye kin count on me every 
 time. I was turned out on the street when I was seven 
 year old, an' I've paddled my own canoe ever since, an' 
 I reckon I know most everything except how to live easy 
 and do nothing and that I don't want to know. Only I 
 would like to git whar I could be sure o' makin' a livin' 
 that 'ud support a family, an' keep a-doin' it. I don't 
 think it's exactly graspin' in a man to want to be sure o' 
 the bread in his mouth for himself an' her that he'd like 
 ter ask to share it, an' it seems to me kind o' hard that 
 after knockin' round fur nigh on to twenty-five years, he 
 ain't nowhars near certain o' that. There is gals," he 
 added, the flush on his cheeks deepening, " as would go 
 in on onsartainties an' marry a feller, but I ain't the one 
 to let 'em do it. An' if thar's anything I could do to 
 help things along and hurry 'em up a little, ye kin count 
 on me, if it keeps me up all night. I ain't any longin' 
 fur blood, an\I don't want to hev to wade in gore up to 
 my knees," he concluded slowly, "but it riles a man 
 mighty bad to feel he can't git nary one o' the things 
 that makes it wuth while to live ; an' ef he ain't never 
 hed a home to begin on, I s'pose he minds it wuss when 
 he can't hev one to end up on, specially if he knows a 
 girl that 'ud made it jist the ticket!" he concluded 
 earnestly. 
 
 John had watched the young man with sympathy as 
 he spoke, and when he sat down he glanced at Kather- 
 ine. Her eyes were full of tears. She entered readily
 
 296 WHICH WINS 
 
 into the feelings of others, and the simple love-affair 
 which was unrolling its tragic pages in the life suddenly 
 revealed before her touched her deeply. 
 
 " He has just begun to realize that something can be 
 done," said John, nodding at the young fellow with 
 encouragement and meaning in his glance, " and the idea 
 that it may be done speedily fires him, you see. But he 
 won't wait for it," he added, shaking his head sadly, "he 
 can't ; he'll do as all the rest do, marry her and struggle 
 on till children come to be turned out on the world as he 
 was, and repeat the story their father learned before 
 them, of want, deprivation, and despair." 
 
 "But, John," whispered Katherine eagerly, for like 
 the young workman she had just begun to feel that some- 
 thing might be done, " how can you speak so despair- 
 ingly in an audience like this ? Surely, this is only one 
 audience ; there are thousands like it all over the country, 
 and will they do nothing ? I would not be afraid of my 
 children's fate," she added excitedly ; " by the time their 
 needs became crying, there would be a change. The 
 world can't go on reiterating lies and repeating wrongs, 
 when most of the people in it have found out how inhu- 
 man they are, and demand new life. That man was 
 right : there will be a change. Why don't you get up 
 and say something, Parsifal ? None of them have said 
 just the right thing yet ; they've left it for you." 
 
 John smiled back at his friend without much desire to 
 say anything, for he had made so many speeches lately 
 that he felt talked out, and it seemed to him there was 
 nothing left to add to what he had repeated so many 
 times. But as the cries for " Thurston ! " became louder, 
 he rose, and, making some apology for saying over again 
 perhaps what they had heard so many times, he de- 
 manded their attention for a few moments. 
 
 " Dear friends," he began, "you have enumerated so
 
 THE MIRACLE OP LOVE 297 
 
 many elements in the make-up of our wonderful era, 
 to-night, that I feared there would be nothing left for 
 me to say. The oppression of the poor, the sufferings of 
 the laboring classes, the selfishness and greed of the 
 wealthy, the dangerous growth of the money power, of 
 trusts and organized capital in every way, all have been 
 touched upon, and your eyes have been opened to the 
 need, the crying need, of an immediate remedy against 
 all this, a remedy which will put bread in the mouth of 
 the starving, enlightenment in the brain of the ignorant, 
 and hope into the heart of the despairing. But, my 
 friends, you have none of you mentioned one element, 
 one striking tendency in this marvellous, fearful age in 
 which we live, an element which impresses me con- 
 stantly, and which is going to point the way toward 
 that solution for which we are all anxiously looking, 
 and that element is love. 
 
 "It may not strike you at first that in an era of 
 open selfishness and greed such as ours this is upper- 
 most, or even pronounced, but it is the latter at least. 
 Do you realize that we have never yet had a golden 
 age ? That since the world began, during all the black 
 centuries which lie heaped behind us, oppression has 
 been dominant, man has beaten, robbed, and murdered 
 his brother, and the world has taken for granted that 
 it must be so ? The nations have acquiesced in brutality 
 with no idea that it would be possible to maintain the 
 bulwarks of civilized society without it. 
 
 " In the patriarchal age, which we like to think of as 
 one of simplicity and fraternal love, there was no limit 
 to the power of the strong. The husband and head of 
 the family owned his wife and children, and could sell 
 or murder them as he pleased. In the feudal ages 
 violence was so generally the rule, that none thought of 
 questioning it. The lord of the manor beat, abused, or
 
 298 WHICH WINS 
 
 starved and murdered those under his care, without 
 hindrance from any outward authority, or, at least, that 
 hindrance was offered so seldom and with such difficulty 
 that it was of no import to the cause of humanity. 
 
 " As we follow down the course of history, we meet 
 with occasional insurrections, which represent the recoil 
 of man against intolerable oppression, but there is no 
 meaning in them ; they never reveal the spirit of the 
 age. Even the French Kevolution, that great uprising 
 which has been worn bare as an illustration of what 
 dangerous results are the culmination of theories of 
 social equality, even that was an ignorant revolt which 
 only accomplished a small portion of what it should 
 have done, and then stopped short because the age was 
 not intelligent enough to carry it to the limit of organ- 
 ized good. 
 
 " But what do we see about us to-day, my friends, in 
 the midst of the despairing conditions we all know so 
 well, the grinding power of life and pressure of monop- 
 oly ? We see a marvellously expanding sympathy of 
 man for man, an unprecedented knowledge of the per- 
 niciousness of a selfish system which exalts one class to 
 the destruction of another, a growing comprehension 
 of widespread suffering which must be redressed. Men 
 can no longer starve unknown; they can no longer 
 suffer unheard, and die unavenged and unpitied. The 
 cry of their agony has gone abroad and is filling the 
 world, is sounding in the heavens, and this alone will 
 bring redress. It is the spirit of love that has made it 
 audible, made it listened to, and the spirit of love will 
 answer it. There is no need to talk of blood, for the 
 insurrection which is to come, and come soon, will be 
 bloodless, and will be brought about by the silent and 
 irresistible power of universal knowledge of this damna- 
 ble condition of things. Love will make that possible,
 
 KATHERINE'S SONG OP FREEDOM 299 
 
 will find the remedy for our evils, and I am sure you 
 will not call me sentimental when I ask you to count in 
 your enumeration of the signs of the times this growth 
 of the power of love." 
 
 John spoke with such enthusiasm that he carried his 
 audience with him, and, in the midst of the general good 
 feeling that prevailed, he led Katherine forward and 
 presented her as the author of a song which should 
 voice the new movement, and which she wished to sing 
 to them. 
 
 Katherine seated herself at the piano and played a 
 little prelude, and then standing erect and touching the 
 chords, sang the first stanza of her people's anthem, 
 asking the audience to join in the chorus. The melody 
 was so bright and ringing that those present caught it 
 immediately, and such a volume of sound rolled forth 
 as Katherine sang the chorus for the second time, that 
 she felt almost carried out of herself. She never forgot 
 the sensation of that moment. It seemed to her she 
 was singing life and liberty, not only into the crowd be- 
 fore her, but into herself, and as she finished and turned 
 from the piano, the applause burst forth so tumultuous 
 and overwhelming that she was quite startled out of her 
 usual self-possession. She went back to the piano, and 
 sang the " Star Spangled Banner," the whole audience 
 joining with her, and the meeting broke up, singing 
 with such a wildly enthusiastic spirit, that John 
 declared if she could only reach the whole city as she 
 had that audience, the people's ticket would be voted in 
 with a rush that would petrify the millionnaires. 
 
 The rain was coming down in sheets as John and his 
 friends left the hall, and the trio had some difficulty in 
 making their way home. Katherine insisted that Rose 
 should spend the night with her, and so John went on 
 alone, feeling suddenly with all its force the cold gusts
 
 300 WHICH WINS 
 
 which tore at his overcoat, and the puddles into which 
 his feet sank at every inadvertent step. With Katherine, 
 he had hardly been conscious of the rain; alone, he sud- 
 denly became aware that he was cold and miserable, 
 that he had eaten no supper, and that a general forlorn- 
 ness seemed to surround him, for which he could only 
 account by recognizing one by one the physical dis- 
 comforts which he usually ignored at all hazards. 
 
 The melancholy speeches he had heard at the meeting 
 kept drifting through his mind. He could not forget 
 the pale-faced young laborer who dared not marry his 
 sweetheart, and the mellow voice of the man who 
 expected to wade in gore sounded in his ears, throwing 
 an ominous tint over his thoughts and his dreams. 
 
 "What is life worth," he thought bitterly, as he 
 dropped to sleep, " if both love and achievement are 
 denied us ? "
 
 THE BEGINNING OR THE END 301 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII 
 
 THE BEGINNING OR THE END? 
 
 THE excitement was over at last; the election was 
 ended, and Ward was mayor of the town. The people's 
 ticket had called forth a following sufficient to bring 
 upon it the animadversions of the leaders of both the 
 great parties, but its nominees were, of course, defeated, 
 and John was more than defeated. The excitement 
 and strain under which he had labored for the past few 
 weeks had exhausted his strength; the shock of his 
 interview with Ward had told upon him more than he 
 would have been willing to confess ; and a severance so 
 rude of a connection founded upon the relations and 
 friendship of early years carried with it, of necessity, 
 something deeply painful to one of John's tempera- 
 ment. The last day or two of the campaign found him 
 so ill that he was only able by sheer force of will to 
 keep from sinking under the strange lassitude which 
 oppressed him, and when it was all over, and the re- 
 sult made public, John succumbed to a severe attack 
 of pneumonia. 
 
 No one supposed that his illness was dangerous, and 
 John was principally annoyed because, having been 
 without a position for the past few weeks, he felt the 
 need of immediate activity. Still he did not recover 
 from the attack as his physician expected, and one 
 morning the latter gentleman was surprised to find his 
 patient much worse. He came out of John's room 
 looking anxious, for John was a friend of the doctor,
 
 302 WHICH WINS 
 
 who was much interested in his character as well as 
 his aspirations. 
 
 " Has Mr. Thurston any trouble weighing upon him ? " 
 he asked Watson as he drew on his gloves with a 
 troubled air. 
 
 " Wai," replied Watson, " he ain't much to make 
 life cheerful or give him a longin' ter live, I do allow. 
 That thar broker's office hev weighed on him awful, an' 
 he ain't never got over his mother's death; he allays 
 thought he wor to blame fur it somehow." 
 
 "Didn't he have some trouble with Mr. Ward re- 
 cently ? " asked the doctor as he tucked the robe in 
 carefully about his feet. 
 
 Watson muttered something decidedly wicked before 
 answering. "Ward hed a row with him" he replied 
 earnestly. " He turned him off 'cause Thurston were 
 on the people's ticket, an' it made his etarnal highness 
 mad to think he warn't a-goin' to vote fur him fur 
 mayor." 
 
 The doctor looked serious. "I didn't feel alarmed 
 about Mr. Thurston before," he said, " but he seems to 
 have no recuperative power. I can't account for it with 
 his physique, unless he has been under a strain which 
 has exhausted his vitality ; " and chirruping to his horse, 
 he drove off with a thoughtful countenance. 
 
 Watson stood staring after the doctor until his buggy 
 was lost in a turning of the street. It had never oc- 
 curred to him that John could die. He had grown so 
 accustomed to his gentle sympathy and unostentatious 
 aid that it seemed as if they had always been together, 
 and should never be separated. Watson knew well 
 how hard and disappointing John's life had been, and 
 how deeply he had grieved over his mother's death ; but 
 John was usually cheerful and uncomplaining and talked 
 little of himself, so that even Watson had not perceived
 
 A DESPAIR WHICH KILLS 303 
 
 that he had grown hopeless, and that the unceasing 
 contemplation of other people's misery with " no let-up 
 on his own," as Watson phrased it, had eaten his 
 strength away. John did not realize, perhaps, how 
 little life meant to him in those latter days ; and when 
 Watson came into his room with a lugubrious counte- 
 nance and asked him if he thought "there warn't no 
 use in tryin' ter git well," he smiled with that instant 
 perception of the absurdity of hypochondria and its 
 recognition, which is the instinctive concomitant of a 
 healthy mind. 
 
 "Why, Watson," he said, "I'm afraid that hasn't 
 much to do with pneumonia or convalescing. I don't 
 suppose I should get well any faster if I had a million 
 dollars to win by recovery." 
 
 " Don't you believe it," cried Watson eagerly ; " ye 
 need ter get cheered up in yer mind, an' that'll cheer 
 yer body up, I reckon. I'm a-goin' to send fur Mrs. 
 Ward," he added ; " she allays knows wot ter do." 
 
 Katherine, meanwhile, was shocked to learn of John's 
 condition, and lost no time in hastening to his side. 
 For several days she was hardly absent from the sick- 
 room, though Ward stormed angrily at her absorption 
 in the condition of a shiftless, impractical crank, as he 
 chose to designate his former friend. 
 
 John grew steadily worse, however, and Katherine felt 
 that humanity, if nothing more, required that she should 
 not hesitate in soothing the last hours of one who had 
 always been willing to give himself for others. Those 
 quiet days of illness seemed very strange to John, and 
 he looked at Katherine so oddly sometimes that she 
 thought his mind must be wandering. But alas ! his 
 thoughts were singularly clear at such moments ; and 
 as his glance rested on the fair face so near him, his 
 fancy went back with torturing distinctness over all 
 the facts of their friendship and connection.
 
 304 WHICH WINS 
 
 This woman had been for years the ideal of his waking 
 perception and of his dreams, yet he had scarcely passed 
 an hour alone with her, had hardly dared to clasp her 
 soft, white hand ; and now in his dying hour she was 
 his. She bent over him with tender solicitude, her 
 hands smoothed his hair, rested gently on his brow; 
 her face was often so near his own that his eyes gazed 
 far down into the depths of hers those soul-depths 
 where the secret thoughts hide shrinking from the 
 insolent recognition of strangers. And John felt that 
 recovery meant an entire absence of this sweet presence. 
 She belonged to another, and however superficial her 
 relation with that other might be, John knew that as 
 far as this world was concerned, she was lost to him. 
 He had never stopped to think before how much that 
 meant, but then he had never fancied the delight of such 
 gentle ministrations. As he lay there watching her, 
 he speculated sometimes whether death might not bring 
 him nearer to her than life. 
 
 "My soul could not hurt her surely," his thoughts 
 ran on feverishly ; " I could haunt her, think my 
 thoughts to her, quite unsuspected by any one, even 
 herself, whereas in life I must never see her again. If 
 I recover, I must avoid her. I could never bear to meet 
 her with the conventional barrier that must always rise 
 between us." 
 
 Then his mind would go back to the broker's office, 
 and his distress at poor Kobinson's misfortunes, to his 
 mother's death, and Ward's treachery ; and always when 
 these thoughts came he lost control of himself, and 
 muttered words which startled Katherine sadly. Some- 
 times, in the midst of a despairing exclamation, he 
 would fix his glittering eyes upon her face, and stop 
 suddenly, crying, " But you must not know that, 
 Katherine, you must not know!" and as consciousness
 
 PARSIFAL'S DECISION 305 
 
 of her presence brought his fancy into a saner channel, 
 the other train of thought was resumed, and he lay 
 gazing into the eyes before him, and speculated again 
 of death as of union with her. 
 
 Katherine learned more of Parsifal's life in those few 
 days than she could have discovered in years of ordinary 
 intercourse. Sympathy enabled her to pierce the thin 
 veil of his thoughts, and surmise the remainder of what 
 he half betrayed, while the broken words let fall by 
 Maggie and innocent Rose enabled her to piece together 
 into a noble whole the fragments of the unselfish exist- 
 ence which was breathing itself out before her. To 
 Watson, John had been a thoughtful, sympathetic friend ; 
 to Maggie, like a helpful elder brother; while in the 
 warm, girlish heart of Eose, he had roused that ideal, 
 which is only possible once to the fresh, unspoiled 
 imagination of a young maiden. It seemed to Kather- 
 ine, realizing all the possibilities of the man before 
 her, that she could not see Parsifal die, and she tried, 
 as she sat beside him, to wake him to that struggle for 
 life which physicians well know is often the last foot- 
 hold of safety in the crisis of disease ; but she little 
 dreamed of the thoughts beating behind the feverish 
 eyes which looked so gently into hers. 
 
 " I'm down, Katherine," he would respond ; " there's 
 no chance in this practical world for an idealist who is 
 down, and I couldn't stand it to exist as a useless 
 nonentity. I'd rather stop living." 
 
 It happened one day Katherine had been prevented 
 from filling her usual place by John's bedside, and as 
 evening approached, Rose came to tell her that John 
 was much worse and wanted to see her. Ward was in 
 the drawing-room when Rose appeared. 
 
 " Katherine ! " he cried, " do you mean to say you are 
 going out again to-night to nurse that fellow ? "
 
 306 WHICH WINS 
 
 " I am going to see Mr. Thurston, Stephen, if that is 
 what you mean," replied Katherine gently ; " he is prob- 
 ably dying." 
 
 " Dying ? Stuff and nonsense ! " cried Ward more 
 furiously than before. " And what is it to you if he is 
 dying ? Do you know that you are my wife, and have 
 no business taking care of another man ? " 
 
 " Stephen," said Katherine, flushing deeply, " the man 
 was your friend, and if he were nothing to you or me 
 I would not refuse his dying request to see me." 
 
 Ward's anger blinded him to everything except the 
 jealous rage he felt, and had felt for some time, at 
 Katherine's evident sympathy with John's misfortunes, 
 and, as she tried to pass between him and the door, he 
 seized her arm. 
 
 " There's just this about it, Mrs. Ward ! " he cried, " if 
 you go out of my house to visit that man to-night, you 
 will never enter it again ! " 
 
 Katherine forcibly withdrew her arm from his detain- 
 ing clasp, and passed on with Kose, vouchsafing no reply 
 to this last insulting speech. 
 
 One of John's feverish phrases had been running 
 through her mind all day, 
 
 " Ward, Ward ! " he cried, " it was bad enough to 
 turn poor Robinson out, but to buy the mortgage on your 
 friend's farm, and betray him, that was worst of all ! " 
 
 Katherine, in spite of herself, had been pondering 
 those words and their connection with John's excite- 
 ment when she told him of Ward's investment of a 
 portion of her own fortune, and the relation was mani- 
 fest. There was something which still escaped her about 
 the matter she felt sure ; she could not unravel the 
 entire mystery. Parsifal kept repeating so often a 
 phrase about the foolishness of one individual trying to 
 right eternal wrongs, and that this expression referred
 
 PARSIFAL'S EYES UNCLOSE 307 
 
 in some way to Ward and herself she had no doubt, but 
 she could not understand it. 
 
 She hurried along with Kose, while the torturing 
 sequence of her thoughts went on and on, and she shud- 
 dered as she pictured the reality of her marriage with 
 Ward, and the suffering they two had helped to pour 
 into the life of their dying friend. As they reached the 
 house, Katherine found the front door half open, and 
 they passed unannounced up-stairs to John's room, 
 where the last moments of their friend were evidently 
 passing. 
 
 He lay with his eyes closed, and Katherine felt com- 
 forted to see how the look of pain and anxiety had 
 disappeared from his features. As she sat down beside 
 him and took his hand, he pressed it gently and opened 
 his eyes. 
 
 " It's all right," he said in a whisper almost inaudible. 
 " I've seen my mother." 
 
 " His mind wanders," murmured Katherine, bursting 
 into tears ; " he will not know me ! " 
 
 John opened his eyes wide once more. " Oh, no ! " 
 he said earnestly, " dear Katherine, I saw her ! She 
 said I did wrong to worry ; she never blamed me for" 
 he paused all at once, the eyelids fell, and Katherine 
 buried her head in the pillows a moment, but soon raised 
 it, unwilling to lose an instant of this last communion 
 with her departing friend. 
 
 There was something very sweet and peaceful about 
 this passing away, she thought ; if it was death, it was 
 much more restful than living had been to Parsifal, and 
 the wondrous significance of death as an ushering into 
 another life grew upon Katherine as she sat there, 
 obliterating all the horror, all the false prescience of 
 agonized extinction which we usually associate with the 
 birth of a soul into its broader and grander existence.
 
 308 WHICH WINS 
 
 Suddenly the wan, pale face upon the pillow seemed 
 transfigured with wondrous brilliant life. Parsifal raised 
 himself from the couch, his eyes fixed upon the empty 
 space before him. 
 
 " Wolfram von Eschenbach ! " he cried, in strong, 
 clear tones, as if the old knight stood greeting him, 
 " My master, can I go with you ? " 
 
 A moment he sat thus erect, and then, with no fading 
 of the glory from his face, it seemed to Katherine, he sank 
 back lifeless upon the pillows. Katherine laid her cheek 
 close to his in that moment, with the feeling that she 
 dared do it at last, but with no consciousness of the cold 
 presence of death. With the warmth and fire of his 
 final words in her memory, she could never think of 
 Parsifal as dead. There was no suggestion of inanition 
 or failing consciousness in the eager joy with which he 
 recognized the knight of his fancy and his dreams. 
 
 But to the others he was dead, and with a cry of 
 despair Watson threw himself upon the body of his 
 departed friend. 
 
 " I never thought to lose ye ! " he exclaimed with 
 simple pathos, " an' I'll not find yer like agin, I know ! " 
 
 As to Katherine, it seemed to her as she left the 
 death-chamber as if the harmonies of life had suddenly 
 grown discordant. " I didn't know what he was to me 
 until he died," she said sorrowfully. " Now I feel that 
 my ideals have disappeared in some way." 
 
 Katherine thought often of the strange vision which 
 had filled the dying moments of her friend, and though 
 she spoke of it as an illusion, she asked herself some- 
 times if it really were that alone. " Could it not be," 
 she pondered, " that the great powers who govern the 
 visible and invisible world permit our ruling fancies to 
 take form and shape in the dying hour, and usher us 
 into the realm which must be but a lonely void to un-
 
 A LOVE BEYOND DEATH 309 
 
 tutored eyes ? Or could the old knight really have 
 come down to earth once more ? " Sad questionings 
 which brought no solace to Katherine's melancholy 
 thoughts, and could not make the absence of her friend 
 more tolerable. 
 
 In those first days the loss of that one friend seemed 
 almost unendurable. There was no sense of the spiritual 
 nearness of the departed one to console her; and Kath- 
 erine felt that if Parsifal still lived, he had gone very far 
 away from the world where he had known little but 
 suffering. 
 
 " And I wouldn't have had him stay here," she said 
 often with a sob ; " but, oh, if I could only have known 
 him better while he lived ! "
 
 310 WHICH WINS 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV 
 
 A FITTING CONCLUSION 
 
 AFTER John's death there was nothing to keep 
 Katherine in Kansas City. Her husband had forbidden 
 her return to his house, and though she knew well that 
 after his anger had passed he would have no intention 
 of enforcing such a command, and would expect her as 
 a matter of course to come and "make up," especially 
 as the annoying cause of their contention was safely 
 removed to another world, she felt that such a course 
 was impossible. John's death had opened her eyes 
 more widely than ever to her husband's character, and, 
 understanding him as she did now, she knew that she 
 could never again bear the relation of wife to him. At 
 the same time, he had rendered her position in his 
 household so irksome and intolerable, that she was glad 
 to seize the valid excuse he had given her to be freed 
 from its burden, and, taking Marie Leifert with her, she 
 went to New York, determined to recover her fortune if 
 possible, but at any rate to resume her former indepen- 
 dent life as a teacher and musician. 
 
 One of her first visits was paid to Mr. Allworth, the 
 old lawyer who had apprised her of the inheritance of 
 her fortune, and to whom she naturally turned for 
 advice in recovering it. She found him unusually de- 
 pressed, and when she explained to him her marital 
 and financial difficulties, he seemed greatly excited. 
 
 " Mrs. Ward ! " he exclaimed, " there can be no harm 
 now in your hearing the truth about the fortune you 
 inherited so opportunely. The story I told you in regard 
 to it at the time was purely fanciful. The money was
 
 KATHERINE LEARNS THE SECRET 311 
 
 left you by a romantic young fellow named Thurston, 
 of whose death I have just heard. He was one of the 
 noblest men I ever knew but what is the matter?" 
 he asked pausing suddenly, and noticing how pale 
 Katherine had grown. 
 
 She motioned him impatiently to go on, and he added, 
 "At the time he made the money over to you, his expec- 
 tations were good, and he had no prospect of real pecu- 
 niary suffering on account of his action, though I think 
 he would have done the same if it had meant giving up 
 everything, with his temperament. But I learn to-day 
 that he has just died in absolute poverty, and I hope he 
 never knew the results of his self-sacrifice in your case." 
 
 " He did know ! " cried Katherine, sobbing ; " he knew 
 all about it ! " And as the meaning of Parsifal's constant 
 repetition of that phrase about trying to right eternal 
 wrongs, flashed upon her, she wished, oh, so earnestly, 
 that he had never learned from her the heights and 
 depths of Ward's perfidy and selfishness. 
 
 "If I could only have borne my burden without 
 speaking of it, he would have suffered so much less ! " 
 she said sorrowfully, as she told Mr. Allworth the story 
 of Parsifal's sad life. Her desire to recover her fortune 
 lessened visibly as she talked to the old lawyer, though 
 the latter was very determined to leave no stone un- 
 turned to place it in the rightful hands. 
 
 " You owe it to Mr. Thurston, Mrs. Ward," he said, 
 " to deprive your husband of your fortune, if he is the 
 man he has shown himself to be. And he will find con- 
 siderable difficulty in keeping it." 
 
 Meanwhile how did Ward feel over the death of his 
 friend and the loss of his beautiful wife ? Was there 
 any heart-break in the sensations with which he read the 
 lines of farewell she sent him after her departure for 
 New York, and in which she upbraided him gently for 
 his constant injustice to her ? Not in the least. By the
 
 312 WHICH WINS 
 
 act of leaving Ward's elegant mansion and aristocratic 
 surroundings, Katherine became a crank and a fool in 
 her husband's eyes, and he was too sensible a man to 
 mourn the absence of such a disturbing element from 
 his environment. 
 
 The rising regrets which rose from the remnants of 
 his passion for her were soon stifled in the excitement 
 of a " new deal " he was making, and he congratulated 
 himself that with his rapidly increasing wealth and 
 political prominence it would be a very easy matter for 
 him to obtain a divorce from Katherine, and win a more 
 docile wife, not dominated by troublesome ideals. 
 
 As he sat in the club-room recently, a friend was 
 laughing with him about his speculations. 
 
 " Oh, I'm into everything," replied Ward easily. " I've 
 just bought out Hark & Norcross, one of the biggest 
 coal-firms in town." 
 
 " You don't say so ? " cried his friend in surprise. 
 " Has Mr. Norcross gone entirely out of the business ? " 
 
 " Oh, not entirely," replied Ward, opening and closing 
 his palm as if delighted in the sensation of getting he 
 received thereby, " but I own him, I own 'em all ; I'll 
 own the town pretty soon, if you don't look out ! " he 
 added chuckling, as if he thought it intensely amusing 
 to deprive others of independence. 
 
 " I used to think coal-dealers were an awfully unprin- 
 cipled set of people," he continued, "but I've changed 
 my mind entirely. I'm sure they never overcharge nor 
 oppress their employes. Oh, no ! they're the most moral 
 creatures in the world ! Ha ! ha ! " 
 
 And Ward laughed a laugh in which there was no 
 hollowness, no bitterness. Stephen Ward, capitalist, had 
 every reason to be satisfied with himself, and with the 
 universe as far as he knew it.
 
 HQMAS ]/y. HIGG'NSON'S yyORK 
 
 TRAVELLERS AND OUTLAWS. EPISODES IN AMERICAN 
 
 HISTORY. 12mo. $1.50. 
 
 " Apart from their historical value, these sketches have all the delight- 
 ful qualities of Colonel Higginsou's literarv style." 
 OUT-DOOR PAPERS. 16mo. $1.50. 
 
 "That wise and gracious Bible of physical education." Prof essoi 
 M. C. TYLER, in Bromiville Papers. 
 
 " The chapters on ' Water Lilies,' ' The Life of Birds,' and ' The Pro 
 cession of Flowers,' are charming specimens of a poetic faculty in de 
 scription, combined with a scientific observation and analysis of nature." 
 London Patriot. 
 
 MALBONE: AN OLDPORT ROMANCE. 16mo. $1.50. 
 
 " As a ' romance,' it seems to us the most brilliant that has appeared in 
 this country since Hawthorne (whom the author in some points has the 
 happiness to resemble) laid down the most fascinating pen over held by 
 an American author." JOHN G. SAXE. 
 
 ARMY LIFE IN A BLACK REGIMENT. 16mo. $1.50. 
 
 "His narratives of his works and adventures, in 'The Atlantic Monthly,' 
 attracted general attention by their graphic humor and their picturesque 
 and poetical descriptions." London Spectator. 
 ATLANTIC ESSAYS. 16mo. $1.50. 
 
 " A book which will most assuredly help to raise the standard of 
 American literature. Mr. Higginson's own style is, after Hawthorne's, 
 the best which America has yet produced. He possesses simplicity, di- 
 rectness, and grace. We must strongly recommend this volume of 
 essays, not to be merely read, but to be studied. It is as sound in sub. 
 stance as it is graceful in expression." Westminster Review. 
 OLDPOBT DAYS. With 10 heliotype illustrations. 16mo. $1.50. 
 
 " Mr. Higginson's ' Oldport Days ' have an indescribable charm. The 
 grace a-jd refinement of his style are exquisite. His stories are pleasant ; 
 his pictures of children, and his talk about them, are almost pathetic in 
 the'/ tenderness; but in his descriptions of nature he is without a rival." 
 - oston Daily Advertiser. 
 COMMON SENSE ABOUT WOMEN. 16mo. $1.50. 
 
 " A thoroughly good and practical book, from the pen and heart of 
 Thomas Wentworth Higginson. If one of its short chapters could b 
 read aloud every day during the year, in the millions of homes in the 
 land, its power for good could scarcely be overestimated." Chicago 
 Inter-Ocean. 
 
 YOUNG FOLKS' HISTORY OF THE UNITED 
 STATES. Square 16mo. With maps and over 100 illustrations. 
 $1.50. 
 
 " This book is for American youth what Dickens's ' History of Eng- 
 land ' is for the children of our cousins beyond the sea. Like it, it is so 
 clear and charmingly written, that it is scarcely fair to call it a ' Young 
 Folks' History;' for we are sure that the old as well as the young will 
 read it. Members of the C. L. 8. C. may take it, instead of the book re- 
 quired, if they so desire." J. H. VINCENT, D.D., President Chuutauquu 
 Literary and Scientific Circle. 
 
 /OUNG FOLKS' BOOK OF AMERICAN EXPLOR- 
 ERS. Illustrated. 16mo. $1.50. 
 SHORT STUDIES OF AMERICAN AUTHORS. Small 
 
 quarto. 50 cents. 
 WENDELL PHILLIPS. Contributed to "The Nation" by T 
 
 W. HIGGINSON. 4to. Paper. 25 cents. 
 
 THE MONARCH OF DREAMS. Cloth. 50 cents. 
 HINTS ON \v KITING AND SPEECH MAKING 
 Cloth. 50 cents. 
 
 told by all booksellers, or sen! by mall, postpaid, on receipt of pricA 
 
 LEE AND SHEPARO. Publishers. Boston.
 
 f I TROWBRIDGFS 1 1 m 
 u. NOVELS UNIFORM EDITION 
 
 FARNELL'S FOLLY. 
 
 As a Novel of American Society, th.s book has never been surpassed. 
 Hearty in style and wholesome in tone. Its pathos often meltingl t 
 tears, its humor always exciting merriment." 
 
 CUDJO'S CAVE. 
 
 Like "Uncle Tom's Cabin," this thrilling story was a stimulating 
 power In the civil war, and had an immense sale.' Secretary Chase, ol 
 President Lincoln's cabinet, said of it, "I could not help reading it: it 
 interested and impressed me profoundly. ' 
 
 THE THREE SCOUTS. 
 
 Another popular book of the same stamp, of which " The Boston Tran- 
 script " said, " It promises to have a larger sale than ' Cudjo's Cave.' 
 It is impossible to open the volume at any page without being struck by 
 the quick movement and pervading anecdote of the story." 
 
 THE DRUMMER BOY. 
 A Story of Burnside's Expedition. Illustrated by F. O. C. DARLET. 
 
 " The most popular book of the season. It will sell without pushing." 
 - Zion's Herald. 
 
 MARTIN MERRIVALE: His X Mark. 
 
 " Strong in humor, pathos, and unabated Interest. In none of the booki 
 Issued from the American press can there be found a purer or more deli- 
 eate sentiment, a more genuine good taste, or a nicer appreciation and 
 brighter delineation of character." English Journal. 
 
 NEIGHBOR JACKWOOD. 
 
 A story of New-England life in the slave-tracking days. Dramatized 
 for the Boston Museum, it had a long run to crowded houses. The story 
 to one of Trowbridge's very best. 
 
 COUPON BONDS, and other Stories. 
 
 The leading story is undoubtedly the most popular of Tuwbridge'i 
 short stories. The others are varied in character, but are either intensely 
 Interesting or " highly amusing." 
 
 NEIGHBORS' WIVES. 
 
 An ingenious and well-told story. Two neighbors' wives are tempted 
 L 'vond their strength to resist, and steal each from the other. One i* 
 discovered in the act, under ludicrous and humiliating circumstances, 
 but is generously pardoned, with a promise of secrecy. Of covrse shs 
 t*u<"B her secret, and of course perplexities come. It is a capital story. 
 
 12mo. Cloth. Price per volume, fl. 60, 
 
 Sold by all totkstllert and newsdealers, and sent by mail, postpaid, 
 on receipt of price 
 
 LEE AND SHEPARD Publishers Bostou 
 
 2 ,
 
 OF NOTED- 
 
 TRAVELLERS 
 
 GERMANY SEEN WITHOUT SPECTACLES; or, Random 
 Sketches of Various Subjects, Penned from Different Stand- 
 points in the Empire 
 By HENRY RUGGLES, late United States Consul at the Island of Malta, and 
 
 at Barcelona, Spain. $1.50. 
 
 " Mr. Ruggles writes briskly: he chats and gossips, slashing right and left 
 with stout American prejudices, and has made withal a most entertaining 
 book." New-York Tribune. 
 TRAVELS AND OBSERVATIONS IN THE ORIENT, with 
 
 Hasty Flight in the Countries of Europe 
 By WALTER HARRIMAN (ex-Governor of New Hampshire). $1.50. 
 
 " The author, in his graphic description of these sacred localities, refers 
 with great aptness to scenes and personages which history has made famous 
 It is a chatty narrative of travel." Concord Monitor. 
 FORE AND AFT 
 A Story of Actual Sea-Life. By ROBERT B. DIXON, M.D. $1.23. 
 
 Travels in Mexico, with vivid descriptions of manners and customs, form a 
 large part of this striking narrative of a fourteen-months' voyage. 
 VOYAGE OF THE PAPER CANOE 
 A Geographical Journey of Twenty-five Hundred Miles from Quebec to tha 
 
 Gulf of Mexico. By NATHANIEL H. BISHOP. With numerous illustra- 
 tions and maps specially prepared for this work. Crown 8vo. $1.50. 
 
 " Mr. Bishop did a very bold thing, and has described it with a happy 
 mixture of spirit, keen observation, and bonhomie" London Graphic. 
 FOUR MONTHS IN A SNEAK-BOX 
 A Boat Voyage of Twenty-six Hundred Miles down the Ohio and Mississippi 
 
 Rivers, and along the Gulf of Mexico. By NATHANIEL H. BISHOP. With 
 
 numerous rnaps and illustrations. $1.50. 
 
 "His glowing pen-pictures of ' shanty-boat ' life on the great rivers are 
 true to life. His descriptions of persons and places are graphic." Zion's 
 Herald. 
 A THOUSAND MILES' WALK ACROSS SOUTH AMERICA, 
 
 Over the Pampas and the Andes 
 By NATHANIEL H. BISHOP. Crown 8vo. New edition. Illustrated. $1.50. 
 
 " Mr. Bishop made this journey when a boy of sixteen, has never forgattea 
 it, and tells it in such a way that the reader will always remember it, and 
 wish there had been more." 
 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES 
 Being the Adventures of a Naturalist Bird-hunting in the West-India Islands. 
 
 By FRED A. OUER. New edition. With maps and illustrations. $1.50. 
 
 " During two years he visited mountains, forests, and people, that few, if 
 any, tourists had ever reached before. He carried .his camera with him, and 
 photographed from nature the scenes by which the book is illustrated." 
 Louisville Courier-Journal. 
 ENGLAND FROM A BACK WINDOW; With Views o 
 
 Scotland and Ireland 
 By J. M. BAILEY, the " ' Danbury News' Man." izmo. $1.00. 
 
 " The peculiar humor of this writer is well known. The British Isles have 
 never before been looked at in just the same way, at least, not by any one 
 who has notified us ef the facV Mr. Bailey's travels possess, accordingly, a 
 value of their own for the reader, no matter how many previous records of 
 journeys in the mother country he may have read." Rochester Express. 
 
 told by all booksellers, and sent by mail, postpaid, on receipt of pries 
 
 LEE AND SHEFAKO Publishers Boston
 
 TUP VHIPF HOW T0 TRA1N IT 
 
 IE, VUlUL HOW TO CARE FOR IT 
 
 ByE. B. WARMAN, A.M. 
 
 With illustrations by MARIAN MORGAN REYNOLDS. 
 
 Quarto. Cloth. $2.00. 
 
 THE author, who is an authority on the subject 
 chosen, has written a very useful book, telling 
 how to train and how to care forthehuman voice. 
 The voice is one of the most beautiful and marvellous 
 of all human endowments. We all know how the 
 world pays homage to a sweet voice, and, like " a 
 thing of beauty," it is absolutely "a joy forever." 
 No matter how rich and eloquent the language, if 
 the voice be deficient in cultivation, the effect is, in 
 a large degree, lost. Prof. Warman's book teaches 
 how to so cultivate the voice as to achieve the best 
 results by those who speak or sing in public; and 
 whether used in public speech orprivate conversation, 
 a well cultivated voice is a choice personal acquisition 
 of the greatest value, and all who desire to attain to a 
 
 a work suited to their purposes. The full-page illus- 
 trations by Marian Morgan Reynolds give added 
 interest and worth to the volume. 
 
 The Voice. 
 
 Specimen illustration reduced. 
 Size of book, 7 x 9% inches. 
 
 N HOUR WITH * 
 ** DELSARTE 
 
 A 
 STUDY 
 
 Illustrated by ROSA MUELLEF 
 nd MARIAN MORGAN REYNOLDS,' 
 
 By ANNA MORGAN, 
 of the Chicago Conservatory. 
 
 SPRAGUB 
 . irithfull 
 page figure illustrat 
 
 Quarto. Cloth. $2.00. 
 
 " TTHISbeautiful quarto volume presents the 
 I ideas of Delsarte in words which all 
 may understand. It is explicit and 
 comprehensible. No one can read this book or i 
 study its twenty-two graceful and graphic) 
 illustrations without perceiving the possibility/ 
 of adding strength and expression to gestures^. 
 and movements, as well as simplicity and 
 ease. Mr. Turveydrop went through life with 
 universal approval, simply by his admirable 
 deportment.' Every young person may 
 profitably take a hint from his success, and this 
 book will be found invaluable as an in- 
 structor." Woman's Journal, Boston. 
 
 An Hour with Delsarte 
 
 Specimen illustration reduced. 
 Size of book, 7 x 9J< inches. 
 
 LEE AND SHEPARD Publishers Boston
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
 Los Angeles 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
 MAYl 
 
 N0N-RENEWM 
 
 i 
 
 DUE2WKSFROMOA1EKEC 
 
 arm L9-Series 444 
 
 IVED
 
 1 158 01258 0725 
 
 11