he saw in print. From
views which he had formed in this way he could not be driven by spoken
words of mature and skilled experience. He had the very unusual habit of
acting upon his convictions, and the unusual is frequently funny. So
possibly in what they said about Alfred Simpson people had reason.

"I have definitely made up my mind," said Alfred Simpson one day. "I
will take no part whatever in the struggle. To struggle is vulgar. It
happens that I have just enough to live upon; but if I had not, I should
decline to earn anything. One cannot earn without beginning the
struggle. Just as I set no value on property, so do I set none on my own
rights. I would never resist anything."

Nobody minded. In spite of previous experience, nobody expected that
Alfred Simpson would be as good as his word.

Hector Brown was quite a different type of man. His friends said that
Hector was a rough diamond. His enemies said more briefly that he was a
rough. Hector Brown went to a dance, danced with Mary, took her into the
conservatory, and then and there kissed her--_contra pacem_ and to the
scandal of the Government.

Mary was very angry. She had promised to marry Alfred Simpson, and it
was to him that she complained.

"Now, what you've got to do," said Alfred's friends, "is to punch Hector
Brown's head."

"Why?" said Simpson.

"What will you ask next? For infringing your copyright, of course."

"That," said Simpson coldly, "would be quite contrary to the views which
I have already expressed to you."

So he did not punch Hector Brown's head, and Mary told Alfred Simpson
that he could go away and play by himself. Mary's decision was warmly
applauded by her parents, who had heard without enthusiasm of the noble
resolve on the part of their prospective son-in-law never to earn
anything. Three months later Mary married Hector Brown.

Now Alfred Simpson was not a coward. He was not quite so big and heavy
as Hector Brown, but he was quicker, harder, and in better training. He
had been boxing while Hector had been boozing. The instructor was of
opinion that Alfred could punch Hector when he liked, where he liked,
and as often as he liked. Of this Alfred's friends were well aware, and
it made them the more angry with him. They despaired. What could they
say to a man who banged the door on the primeval instincts and declared
that struggle, resistance, and retaliation were repugnant to him.

Alfred's subsequent refusal to secure a