which, in places, the water rippled to the east line of Michigan Avenue; while the Illinois Central ran over spiles to the station at the foot of Randolph Street. Now the railroad lies as if it had cut its way through the land, with Grant Park far beyond it into the lake, and with Lake Front Park a long settled place of lawn and statuary. When the Chicago Plan is finished there will be an outer yacht harbor spaced east of Grant Park, formed like a crescent, which will be a good place to view the sky-line of Michigan Avenue, and the Field Museum at its south, already finished, and the new Art Museum to be placed at the center, and the new Crerar Library to be built at the north; all of classic, harmonious architecture; not to speak of the great stadium already done, and the many monuments that are soon to adorn this acreage made since 1894. Far to the west, at Congress Street and Halstead, about a mile from Michigan Avenue, will stand the civic center with its administration building whose dome, like St. Peter's, will loom above the city, and from whose plaza of statuary and fountains boulevards will radiate, as from an axis, to the parks and the outer drives, many of which are already finished. In this colossal work of remaking Chicago, the acquisition of 30,000 acres of forest preserves, the building of the West Side railroad terminal, the widening of South Park Avenue and Twenty-second Street, which involved the shearing off or the wrecking of hundreds of houses—these have been items. And the work goes steadily on, wrecking and widening and building, for all of

which the money comes steadily forward out of that Chicago that was massacred but came to life, and was burned but was soon beckoning to the world with higher and nobler walls. "Roaming in thought over the universe," said Walt Whitman, “I saw the little that is good steadily hastening toward immortality, and the vast all that is called evil I saw hastening to merge itself and become lost and dead." No truer description can be given of Chicago's career.

And if it come to pass that Chicago lifts itself to be the richest and the most powerful city of the world, for which indeed its indomitable merchants and dreamers are making ready, to what shall it be attributed, outside of the man power and ambition which envision such a triumph and are working for it? It will be due to the inner properties of the air which blows about the city from the far west, from the prairies; and turning about, brings refreshment from the lake; air that in winter is cold indeed, but kindles spirits and brings energy and vigor; which in summer becomes balmy, becomes heated, changes about and sets the blood to rhythms; and in the autumns of fair days prolonged to December, quickens the pace of the money centers, and speeds the dreams of thinkers. And another thing is the soil. Chicago is a child of the soil; its feet are still in the soil, and will be till the soil gives no more of strength. Not the gods of rocky downs and granite ledges are here; but the gods of corn and wheat out of the rich loam. This makes Chicago a creature of Demeter the goddess of agriculture, of the laws and civilization.

U

NDER the elms the seniors were singing. It would have been all the same if the juniors had been singing under the maples, the sophomores warbling under the green bay-trees or the freshmen had raised their feeble trebles beneath the spreading chestnuts. George H. Cautious did not know the seniors were singing, but he did realize in a vague way that the vocal music he heard, associated as it was with trees and their foliage, meant the outward demonstration of a phase of undergraduate life. With such life Mr. Cautious had no contact in a direct or personal way. All he knew about colleges and universities was what he had picked up in conversation with his friends, what he heard at athletic contests, what he read in books, magazines and newspapers.

There came to George Cautious once more that nameless something that had shot through his mind time and again—the realization that he did not belong, that something was missing out of his life because he never went to college.

The short and simple annals of the rich are long enough to tell the story of such a life as that led by Mr. Cautious. Common school, then four indifferent years in high schoolthen work. When the other boys

were going away to college, George Cautious had felt that they were wasting their time. It was his immature decision that the thing for a young fellow to do was to begin earning money; so he got a job that grew into a position with the Midwestia Realty Company, Inc. Like so many traditionally successful men, he began at the bottom and climbed to the top of the real estate ladder.

When other young men were coming home in the spring and giving Midwestia a metropolitan air by reason of the sort of hair-cuts they affected, the slang they used and the mandolins they twanged-when these young men were showering the community with the richness of their bright college years-George Cautious was betting with himself that Midwestia was going to grow north faster than it would grow east. Accordingly he took an option on the old Teboe farm of two hundred and fifty-seven acres, more or less, and when the country club was located in that vicinity he made his first big killing. Shortly thereafter he became known as one of the realtors. In due time he was taken into the firm and eventually made its president. At forty-five, George Cautious was one of the leading citizens of Midwestia. This is no idle phrase

used merely as description. Mr. Cautious actually led. He was one of the leaders of the Community Fund, the Fresh Air Fund, the Fund for Summer Vacations for Tired Mothers, and so on. He was a director of the Chamber of Commerce, was prominently mentioned for mayor whenever the city entered one of those spasmodic periods of looking for a successful man to act as its chief executive, was hailed by his first name in the Rowanis Luncheon Club and was a patron of the various

arts.

Yes, George H. Cautious was a model citizen of Midwestia, with a spacious lawn around a house planned for beauty as well as comfort, with plenty of sound investments, with money to spare and with a taste for the better things a certain amount of well planned leisure will bring. He had, in addition to this worldly wealth and what wealth will buy, a charming and beautiful wife. All this somewhat tiresome explanation is made to bring home the fact that George Cautious need not want for anything within reason, and yet he did want something that no amount of money would bring him. He wanted a place in his youth that would entitle him to talk as did those who had been to college. He wanted that very badly, but his youth was gone and there was no way for him to recall it.

So there was the same old longing again as he skirted the campus of Freshwater University and heard the seniors singing under the elms. If he could go over there and drop down among them, nodding in a manner that said he belonged-if he could point to a frat pin and ex

plain casually that he was a member of the class of '06, they would make room for him and he would sing Freshwater songs with them. Heaven knew he had heard them often enough! But for George Cautious there was only outer darkness. Had he attempted to foregather with the upper classmen and raise his voice in joyful song, they would have eyed him and each other, and made it plain that uninvited guests were the sort of folk they rarely entertained.

As he had a somewhat methodical mind, Mr. Cautious decided to investigate a little. He walked on past the Freshwater campus and began to tabulate mentally the friends he had who had gone away to school, the nature of their work and the extent to which they were using either in business, socially or subconsciously the things they had learned from the dear old alma maters.

It came to Cautious that his professional friends were making almost daily use of their college experiences. These men were lawyers, engineers, physicians, teachers, chemists, and the like. They were putting to practical advantage the things the class-room and laboratory had given them. He thought also of a great group of merchants, salesmen of different kinds, even a few writers and an unclassified throng with whom he came in contact. He knew somewhat dimly that nearly all of them had gone to college, but he was at a loss to recall the manner in which they used their educations.

Pocket College. He recalled, for he was still thinking of this higher education business, that Smart's record was brilliant. Smart made the various teams, stood high in his classes, was chosen for the most exclusive secret societies and sang second tenor on the glee club, as well as playing leading man in the Vest Pocket Dramatic Club's most ambitious theatrical offerings.

Greetings over and the weather finished as a topic of conversation, Cautious broached the subject.

"Tell me," he said to Smart, "as a successful bond salesman and an insurance agent, in what manner do you make use of the things you learned in college?"

"I can't answer that without more time to think it out," Smart declared after some reflection. "That's something you can't exactly put your finger on. I suppose we use a lot of stuff unconsciously. Come to think of it, the contacts I made were worth a lot to me. One of the friendships of my college days led to my first job. You know I took a classical course. If a fellow had law, or medicine, or engineering, or something like that, he could hook up with an outside firm; but for the classical chaps, getting started was harder. However, I know a host of fellows, strung around over the State and other States, where I can drop in and feel at home. I can have that feeling

"Never thought of such a thing," Cautious declared. "I've been thinking about what I missed by not keep ing on through college and I've wondered what you fellows do with what you picked up in four years.

Smart studied the pattern of an oriental rug for a moment, then raised his eyes to Cautious.

"You know that's a rather funny sort of thing to wonder about, and for the time being I can't answer your question. Now then, let's think a minute. I absorbed a lot of stuff in the four years I was at Vest Pocket. Now and then I recall a classic quotation or something else we learned, as a rule. I can think of a thousand and one things that happened. I could tell you experiences and escapades from now until morning, but you want to know what it was I learned that I am using in my daily affairs now. Is that it?" Cautious nodded.

You get a contact there that hardly ever wears off. No, I can't stick a pin in some one thing I got out of my college education and hold it up for you to inspect, telling you that this is how I get along selling stocks and bonds and insurance. But I've a notion I do make a good deal more use of that college education than I realize."

Cautious talked it over with others. Some of them were hazy, some said. their four years in college were wasted, and a few-a minority he found-were quick to defend what higher education had cost themor their parents.

For the next several weeks Cautious became obsessed with the passion for interviewing men who held college and university degrees or who came near winning them. With one accord these men gave the impression that their college days were the happiest of their lives, but it was a rare occasion when one of them put his