That's the way I always found them, George in the garden and Mrs. Westbourne on the porch with her books. George invariably told me that the particular work in hand was the last thing needing to be done outdoors for a long time. "Then I'll get to my writing," he said. And he would stretch his arms and make a few flourishes, as if writing were a matter of brawn, and say, "I'll be in fine trim for it!"

The fall brought apple-harvest time. The orchard, with its heavy crop of Gravensteins, looked as gay as a field of Christmas-trees. Whenever I came near the place, in those weeks, I would hear George's voice in loud speech, from one tree-top to the next, with the man he had engaged to help with the picking. And as I went up the lane, I would see George's overalled legs emerging from the foliage far up on a ladder; and when I called, George would climb down and wave a looselygloved hand to me, set down his picking-bucket and walk to me over the rough ground, to save my shining city shoes, and pour into my ear his raptures over this culminating phase of country life.

"You don't get any thrills like this in the city!" he announced grandly. "You forget the five-o'clock traffic jam," I said.

For this he had only a flourish of the hand and was back at his ladder again.

One day in late September, failing to find George in the orchard or garden, I hallooed, and his answer came to me from the house. He met me at the stairway and led me into his little room that he called the

library. "You're just the fellow I want to see! I've got something to show you at last."

But when he handed over some sheets of paper he said, "Don't read it now. I'm getting kind of restless sitting indoors here. Let's take a walk around outside."

That evening I found his pages to be the same sort of thing he had always done, just a fragment ending in mid-career. And I could only say to him, once again, "It's all right for a start, George. Let me see it when it gets a little further on."

He promised to get on with it fast: there wasn't anything outside to interfere now. Two or three weeks later, however, he admitted ruefully, "I'm having a deuce of a time settling down to writing. You know, I got so used to being outdoors these last few months that it's the hardest work in the world making myself sit in here at the desk."

"George and I have changed places in the world," his wife put in with her quiet laugh.

George declared with exaggerated forcefulness, "I'm going to finish that story if I have to chain myself to the chair to do it!"

But the story was not finished. The season came along when the orchard trees had to be pruned; and though George knew nothing of this process, he watched every move of the man who did it for him, because, as he explained to me, a man must understand every phase of the work on his place if he expects to have it properly done.

Then it was time for plowing, and then time for the spring planting; and it wasn't long before the first year of their country residence

A few months later, on an August day when George was once more absorbed in the apple harvest, Mrs. Westbourne came to meet me on the porch with a smile that had a note of uneasiness and distress-a new note on her confident face. She led me to my usual wicker chair beside the hammock, poured my glass of iced lemonade, regarded me nervously as I sipped it, and then brought out abruptly, "I've a confession to make. I've written a book."

I set down my glass. "Well, why not? Everybody's doing it. . The Journal of an Exile? Something like that?"

She laughed uncomfortably. "Oh, nothing at all lyrical. Just something that I happen to know a good deal about. In fact, it's just a dishing-up of my own experiences. Something about woman's influence in politics."

"Good! And will you call it: Holding the Club over Politics?"

"The worst of it is," she went on seriously, "that I've found a publisher. The book will be out sometime in the winter, or early next spring."

"The worst of it!" I mocked her. "That's a strange remark from an author."

"Of course," she said, "I was glad in a way-and excited. But you see there's George."

.

Naturally, there was George. I had known all along what her doubt

"Do? Why it seems to me it's done publisher and all."

"But it isn't too late to stop the whole thing."

She really meant it. I could see that.

"I don't believe George would want that," I told her.

She looked at me as if she weren't at all sure.

"Why not tell him all about it," I said, "and see how he takes it?" "I dread to."

"Do you want me to bring the frightful tidings to him?"

"No," she said; "I'd rather tell him myself. But it will take time to gain the courage."

..

That night at dinner, when George said, "Well, I'm getting things in fine shape for the winter, so that I'll have lots of time for writing," Mrs. Westbourne met my eye for an instant and looked hastily away.

She hadn't told George her news by Monday morning, when I had to leave; so I made a special trip up there the next week-end, in my eagerness to know how George had been affected by the tidings.

The apple-picking was not yet finished, and when I turned into the lane there were George's legs on the ladder, with the rest of him invisible in the screen of foliage. I called, and he came scrambling down with his usual cheerful celerity. His round blue eyes were full of an eager merriment as he came across the plowed ground.

"We've got a real piece of news for you this time," he called out before we were within reach of a hand-clasp. "Clara's written a book."

"A book-" I repeated stupidly enough.

"A real book, and got a publisher for it already, too!" He gave a proud chuckle. "She's a good one, all right! Sitting there on the porch all the time, writing a book!"

"She certainly is a good one!" I brought out on a full breath of relief and satisfaction.

"Yes," George said, as he took off one of his broad cotton gloves to settle his eye-glasses exactly straight on his nose, "it's an accomplishment to be proud of, I tell her. And another thing," he went on, fixing me with his round-eyed serious stare, "it'll be a fine thing for me, having her established with the publishers. It will help me have access to them, you see, when I get started with my writing."

I

T Is well to consider whether the Federal Reserve Board has been granted all the necessary authority and power to handle the conditions with which it is now confronted in its capacity as the responsible head of finance in America. Many critics of the system feel that the public is kept altogether too much in the dark as to its present operations. They believe that they should know something as to the time, and the whys and wherefores, of a change in policy, on the theory that uncertainty causes speculation; and supported further by the thought that the banking system should be the servant rather than the master of commerce, industry and agriculture, they point to a growing tendency to secrecy and to apparent domination in its management.

We must recognize, first of all, the powers that are vested in the management of the system. The three great powers, outside of the influence of gold, are the discount rate, openmarket operations and publicity.

Early last February the Federal Reserve Board issued a second warning as to the credit situation. And by so doing it used one of the most potent influences under its controlnamely, publicity. Use had hereto

fore been made of the other two functions-discount rate and open-market operations-without satisfactory results. The warning statement, it will be remembered, indicated special reference to loans made for speculative purposes.

The chief function of the Federal Reserve System is the maintenance of a proper gold reserve, and control of the total volume of credit; and, of course, in the exercise of these prerogatives it necessarily must keep in touch with world gold and world credit movements, but only for the purpose of wise and competent management in the preservation of our own gold reserve and the control of our total volume of credits. No one understood in February that the gold reserve was in danger, nor was there any indication of a general rise in the commodity price level; and because of this I think that the Federal Reserve Board should not have concerned itself about the condition of the stock-market or of the securityloan market. It cannot attempt a regulation of security loans without disturbing the industrial mechanism. To disturb industry merely to restrain stock speculation seems to me an unwarranted procedure that would work a gross injustice on both the business man and the working

man.

I think there is a tendency to pay too much attention to the spectacular action of the stock-market. We should remember that the business man, the worker and the farmer as such are not greatly concerned about stock speculation. Their chief interest is in the continuity of business and the stability of general prices, which serve as guides to industrial activity and help to maintain employment, wages and profits. We have not had, however, a general increase in commodity prices, in spite of all the talk of wild speculation. When all commodity prices rise there is no general increase in productive wealth, but merely an inflation. However, stock prices should be distinguished from commodity prices since there is often a corresponding increase in value measured by an increased capitalization.

Should the indexes of employment or of prices show any tendency to decline, I think that the Federal Reserve Board should ease money

rates.

Last year the high money rates made it seem to some observers that it would be difficult to finance by bond issues. It is true that bond issues declined and that many feared a resultant decline in new construction, which would mean a slackening demand for steel and other raw materials. This result, however, did not follow for a number of reasons. Among these may be mentioned the fact that many corporations have adequate cash balances, so that they can finance themselves without creating additional debts. Another is that companies are financed by stock

issues and since the public was still willing to buy stock, brokers' loans continued to increase.

I do not think that the assumption is warranted that brokers' loans are depriving business of necessary funds, or that all of the security loans are unproductive. In my judgment there is too little known about the ultimate disposition of stock-market loans to warrant any action by the Federal Reserve designed to depress these loans. Moreover, if such an attempt is made and it succeeds in raising money rates so high that people will be afraid to buy stocks, I think that the depressing results on business will be inevitable. There is a grave responsibility in dealing with this situation because it would be easy to produce a business slump without intending to do so.

As far as I know there is no evidence that the increased volume of security loans is operating to restrict employment or business activity.

I firmly believe now as I have in the past that the eye of the Federal Reserve System should be kept on questions of commodity price level and of employment. It seems to me to be rather far-fetched to endanger the pay envelop of the working-man and the profits of the business man simply because some one gets the notion that there is too much stock speculation or that stocks should not sell as high as they happen to be selling at a given time.

There are so many matters of judgment involved in stock prices that most of the critics and experts, I believe, have erred in predicting the stock-market. If, however, the condition of corporate profits does