re for profits and dividends and graft, public
and private. But there was also a great deal of humor--of rather a
sardonic kind, but still seeing the fantastic side of this grand game
of swindle.

Two paragraphs made an especial impression on her:

"Remsen City is no worse--and no better--than other American cities.
It's typical. But we who live here needn't worry about the rest of the
country. The thing for us to do is to CLEAN UP AT HOME."

"We are more careful than any paper in this town about verifying every
statement we make, before we make it. If we should publish a single
statement about anyone that was false even in part we would be
suppressed. The judges, the bosses, the owners of the big
blood-sucking public service corporations, the whole ruling class, are
eager to put us out of existence. Don't forget this fact when you hear
the New Day called a lying, demagogical sheet."

With the paper beside her on the rustic bench, she fell to
dreaming--not of a brighter and better world, of a wiser and freer
race, but of Victor Dorn, the personality that had unaided become such
a power in Remsen City, the personality that sparkled and glowed in the
interesting pages of the New Day, that made its sentences read as if
they were spoken into your very ears by an earnest, honest voice
issuing from a fascinating, humor-loving, intensely human and natural
person before your very eyes. But it was not round Victor Dorn's brain
that her imagination played.

"After all," thought she, "Napoleon wasn't much over five feet. Most
of the big men have been little men. Of course, there were
Alexander--and Washington--and Lincoln, but--how silly to bother about
a few inches of height, more or less! And he wasn't really SHORT. Let
me see--how high did he come on Davy when Davy was standing near him?
Above his shoulder--and Davy's six feet two or three. He's at least as
tall as I am--anyhow, in my ordinary heels."

She was attracted by both the personalities she discovered in the
little journal. She believed she could tell them apart. About some of
the articles, the shorter ones, she was doubtful. But in those of any
length she could feel that difference which enables one to distinguish
the piano touch of a player in another room--whether it is male or
female. Presently she was searching for an excuse for scraping
acquaintance with this pair of pariahs--pariahs so far as her world was
concerned. And soon she found it