where "dog eats dog" is still too often the rule. When a coherent and masterful majority of our people "gets" the full significance of this issue and insists that he who produces more than he acquires is a public benefactor, but that he who acquires more than he produces is an economic parasite, then means will be found of ridding our civilization of the predatory business type, and of giving each person the full product of his toil of brawn or brain. It is to this end that all the beneficent social forces of our day are trending.

Regulated competition is unquestionably better than irresponsible and uncontrolled competition. Moreover, by the slow, sure means of experience, Federal and state control of business is becoming at once more elastic and more effective. But no perfecting of the mechanism of such control can ever overcome the inherent limitations of this method of promoting social and economic justice. To realize the higher possibilities of civilization fuller recourse must be had to the principle of coöperation.

As far back as history goes we find civilization developing as fast as and no faster than men have developed the capacity to work together with their fellowmen to a common end. The day of hybrid, involuntary coöperation by means of slavery, serfdom, or economic exploita

tion is past. As President Wilson has indicated, the time is ripe for a coöperation that is not exclusive or oppressive, but rather inclusive and beneficent, founded on the principle of the open door, and dispensing its profits among all who participate in its activities according to the measure of such participation.

Manifestly, one of the best ways to develop this spirit of coöperation during our present transition period is for the business man and the farmer to get together in spirit and in purpose, to forget old antagonisms, and, as far as possible, to infuse into the present era something of the creative, beneficent spirit of the future. Thus the business man who is on the square and anxious for better things should not only refuse to make common cause with business men who stand for the ethics of the jungle, but should line up actively with like-minded men among all classes of his fellow-citizens in an endeavor to bring about a general realization of the fact that our maximum of national efficiency and prosperity can come only when every citizen, business man as well as farmer or wage-earner, is able to feel that his success will be in proportion not to his craft and Machiavellian ability to outwit and spoil his fellow-men, but rather in proportion to the intelligence, determination, and industry that he puts. into productive work.

"IT

T 'S not that people change," said Peters, suddenly; "they just look at life. one day with what painters call a fresh eye and see for the first time real values and proportions." He flung this at me with violence, as if he were called upon to contradict a very stupid remark of mine. We had been sitting on the narrow balcony of my fourteenth-story hotel room, smoking in silence for an hour or more.

There was nothing at that height to break the sweeping line of the Palisades. to the west of us but one tall building, topped by a water-tank, on spidery legs, as black as a witches' caldron against the sky. And between the thicket of chimneystacks below and the bluffs beyond, the dim river lay like mist in a valley.

"It is n't always a great experience. Love or anguish does n't necessarily do the trick," he went on savagely. "Often it's a thing that touches us only remotely; some one else's tragedy-not close enough for us to see distinctly. Well, we follow it up, and squint our eyes trying to get the focus. Suddenly we see it plain, and we see life, too, for the first time since we were born."

He pointed to the west, where Venus shone, a white point pricked in a sky deeply and luminously blue. "I've a case in mind now. I never look at the stars without thinking of an hour in a kitchen-a kitchen in Gramercy Park it was. I had gone down to the north shore one hot glittering day last June, with a crowd of acquaintances, for an affair rather inappropriately called a housewarming. It was the usual sort of thing-music, a marquee on the lawn for dancing, pretty women in sharply tinted gowns, food, and clamor. I was n't amused. I was irritated by the too-muchness of the whole place; the house was too big, the verandas

were too wide, the drives too broad. Certainly too much of everything for this middle-aged, childless couple who had opened their doors to a multitude.

"One hates spaciousness that 's meant to be impressive. If a family decides to make the driveway large enough for the big car to pass the pony-cart comfortably, the result is somehow all right. But that sort of thing

"I was dragged about to inspect stables and dairies, squash-courts and tenniscourts, and finally the swimming-pool, where I eluded the party. This imitationmarble pool was filled with water as green as if it had been colored, was flanked by pseudo-Greek benches and stupid little trees in tubs, poor shrubs, box or privet or what-not. Cropped in the form of cheeses and cones, they looked as if they'd come out of molds; as if they 'd been so cruelly used that they'd not dare to send out another shoot as long as they lived. And all this, mind you, within plain sight of the good salt sea.

"Well, we all know which is the pet god of this age: here was a new and costly temple, and now his votaries were going through noisy rites, bowing the knee before Henrietta's black bath-room, with its sunken tub and dolphin faucets; uttering shrill pæans in the living-room, which was full of the poisonous colors the new decorators are using.

that odious animal, with his crystal and ivory manger.

"All this to explain why I went finally in search of the kitchen gardens, longing for the sight of a row of honest cabbages,

and found there a real human being who had a tale to tell. No, not a kitchen-maid with a tearful romance. Romance is either dark or bright, and you know I'm interested in half-tones. No, this was a

young lady who 'd had enough of Henrietta's housewarming, and I found her sitting in the shade of a smoke-bush, at the foot of the vegetable garden, as still as any image. Presently she looked up at me from under one of those enormous hats that let the sun splash through the brim and spatter the face with light. I had seen her before somewhere, and I made a remark about the view as I tried to place her. She was pretty enough and youngish; I could n't tell how young. Between twenty-five and thirty-eight women look about the same nowadays. She had the usual slim figure, smooth face, and tired eyes, a familiar type in the East; but there was about her something different, an expression wistful and puzzled, tired, and at the same time eager. She looked tired not because of having had too much of everything, but of never having had at all the things she wanted and did n't know how to look for. Then I realized that she was saying: 'You used to know me when I was little. I was Jessica Tatum.' And I remembered a quiet, rather colorless little girl of ten. Perhaps she had seemed mousy only because of the violent conditions that surrounded her; no child's personality makes itself heard in the din of slamming doors and tearful recriminations.

"I had known the parents well, handsome, hot-tempered, spoiled young creatures who quarreled violently. I think they even threw things at times; but they were so charming that people did n't mind. Of course it could n't have lasted forever, but they both died when Jessica was a child. They had left each other several times, and once they had come to me with tears and vociferous complaints. I did what I could; of course it was n't possible to bring about a lasting peace. I don't think they wanted it really. To some natures trouble acts as a stimulant, and, just as drunkards react only to enormous quantities of alcohol, so such people live in an atmosphere that would kill any ordinary mortal.

"After they died somebody, I'd forgotten whom, took the child and brought

her up and out. Then she had married. I remembered vaguely that it was the sort of marriage about which people added some word of explanation, and I had forgotten, if I ever knew it, her husband's name and why they had granted him a distinctly qualified approval.

"All this came back to me in an instant. as I sat down beside her on the grass, and I said:

"Of course, of course; only your hair was much lighter in those days, and where are your freckles? Well, what has life done to you, and what, my dear, have you done with life in all these years?'

"She hesitated and looked at me SO thoughtfully that I felt the way you do when you say 'How are you?' to an acquaintance and he begins to tell you how he is. I thought she was going to bore me with names and dates, but after a long pause she brought out:

. "I don't know. I've never thought about life at all before last week, and now everything seems different. I don't know what to do.'

"I looked at her sharply. I cannot endure the person who makes a morbid study of her inhibitions. But Jessica did n't apparently consider herself a 'case,' and she was honestly troubled.

"I asked her if she 'd rather be alone. She shook her head at that, and said plaintively:

"I don't seem to have happy things inside me to keep me company when I'm by myself. It never makes me lonely to watch a crowd of people having a good time, but it makes me awfully desolate to see one person going off by himself with a contented, turned-in look. You had that look when you came down here a minute ago.'

"She was very appealing as she sat there under the rosy, umber cloud of the smoke-bush, hugging her knees and looking up at me anxiously. One saw that her distress was not immediate; I thought it seemed sufficiently remote to make it safe to stay and talk without having presently to jump up and minister in some way to her comfort or happiness. And I